Wednesday, April 6, 2016

Do We Have The Wrong Idea About Humility?


It's problematic that our understanding of humility and being humble has gotten rather entangled with our notions about self-esteem and confidence--that it, that being humble means having low self-esteem or lacking confidence, that humility is thinking "we're just not much good."  This doesn't seem quite sufficient though.  And maybe it's misleading.  After all, Christ is our ultimate example of humility and for him to think that he's "just not much good" is ridiculous.  So it must be something more.  Or something else.

Maybe the problem with thinking that humility means thinking "I'm just not much good" is that it's still a lot of thinking about "I."  Our focus then becomes the self, our own worth or lack thereof, how well we are managing to maintain the notion that we are lowly.

C.S. Lewis (of course!) so cleverly illustrates this in his work, The Screwtape Letters.  The senior demon instructs young Wormwood:

You must therefore conceal from the patient [that is, the Christian the demon is trying to tempt] the true end of Humility.  Let him think of it not as self-forgetfulness but as a certain kind of opinion (namely, a low opinion) of his own talent and character. (70).
 Instead, Wormwood is to undermine any attempt at humility on the part of the Christian by drawing his attention to it: "Catch him at the moment when he is really poor in spirit and smuggle into his mind the gratifying reflection, 'By jove!  I'm being humble,' and almost immediately pride--pride at his own humility--will appear" (69).  In Mere Christianity, Lewis further explains that if you meet someone who is truly humble, "he will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all" (128).  So, it seems that humility cannot be this inward focus on our own lowliness (whether accurate or not!).

What does humility look like then?  I think it has something to do with identity--our own self-perception of our identity and the rights and privileges thereof.  I think it might look like a cop wearing pink fairy wings.

A Facebook friend of mine posted a picture of her husband, a big, tough cop, playing with their young daughter.  He was very obligingly wearing pink, sparkly fairy wings.  The fairy wings were not in keeping with his identity as a big, tough cop, but he laid aside the rights he has as a big, tough cop to be perceived as a big, tough cop in order to love on his little girl.

I've observed similar occurrences.  The president of a university, whose position entitles him to more luxurious venues, eating at the cafeteria with students.  My dentist, laying flat out on the asphalt, changing the tire of a patient in his parking lot.  The missionary who leaves behind the comforts and security of their former lives to venture into new waters.  The shy, reserved church member performing on stage.

In each case, the individual chose to lay aside some aspect of their identity in order to serve someone else.  They could have said "That's not me."  Or, "Not my job, someone else can do it."  But they forgot themselves in order to love someone else.

What's the basis for this definition of humility?  Christ (of course!)  Paul instructs the Philippians:
Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. (ESV Philippians 2:5-8)
Let's be clear.  Jesus is God.  Becoming human did not change the fact of his divine identity.  What happened was that he laid aside the rights and privileges associated with that divine identity--he "emptied himself" of those rights in order to become a servant.  His humility was demonstrated by the ultimate act of love--dying for us.

As followers of Christ, we know that we will also be called to suffer.  And rejecting some privilege can often be uncomfortable, or even painful.  But I think that, ironically, the experience of humility may have more to do with joy.  The author of Hebrews tells us that Jesus "endured the cross" "for the joy that was set before him" (Hebrews 12:2).  My friend's husband, the big, tough cop, was certainly more concerned with the joy of loving his child than any sense of his own sacrifice.

C.S. Lewis (again) points to happiness as the ultimate outcome of humility:
The point is, He wants you to know Him: wants to give you Himself.  And He and you are two things of such a kind that if you really get into any kind of touch with Him you will, in fact, be humble--delightedly humble, feeling the infinite relief of having for once got rid of all the silly nonsense about your own dignity which has made you restless and unhappy all your life. (Mere Christianity 127)
 Contact with God will naturally result in humility.  And, it is only through humility that we can be close to God.  Our dignity, self-perceived identities, and estimations of ourselves are lost in the reality of who God is.

Lewis, C.S. Mere Christianity.  1952. New York: Harper Collins, 2001.
--. The Screwtape Letters. 1942. New York: Harper Collins, 2001.