The Need for Humility

I know I’ve used this word a lot, and I think it’s time to start unpacking it.  Humility seems to keep coming up in most of my posts, granted there aren’t that many, and I’m sure most of you who are reading already know me enough to know how I try to remain humble.  However, it’s time to try and get at the nuances of this oft-used, oft-misused, and oft-misunderstood word.  Likewise, it’s probably one of the most important words we should remember when we are trying to speak into our world.

I say that because words can often carry as much pain as healing, especially when we are talking about God.  In faith, we attempt to speak as prophets into a given situation, hoping to bring forth some wisdom from source of our own peace, and we can be slammed by people both inside and outside the church.  Then, we respond with the emotions that well up inside of us; feelings of hurt, anger, and the need to defend ourselves and the God we have declared.  Before long we have an argument where lines are being drawn and sides are being taken while others walk away shaking their heads.  Our good intentions become nothing more than another battlefield where rhetoric is the hill to be claimed.

So, where does humility fit in this equation?  Why should we care at all about being humble when we speak what our experience has told us is truth?  Here’s where it can get very challenging for many of us.  I think we should begin this discussion by trying to look and see just exactly what is meant by the world “humble.” 

When I try to employ humility in my life, I think about correlating it to the word “wisdom.”  Socrates has a great story about wisdom where he is told to be the wisest man in the world by an oracle.  In order to prove or disprove her statement, he travels around to other wise men and poses the same question.  Their answers are uniform in that they believe themselves to be the wisest person in the world.  Socrates then decides that he must be the wisest person, because he knows he is not wise. 

In my mind, humility is similar to this.  Once a person says they have, they have just lost it.  Therefore, in essence, by writing this post, I am not humble, but that can be a philosophical discussion for another day.  What we can continue on with is this idea that humility is illusory at times, and fragile at best.  As a Christian, I also find humility to be similar to patience, in that if I as God for it in prayer, then I don’t actually get humility.  Instead, I get circumstances that allow me to build my humility. 

But we still need a definition for what actually IS humility.  The Merriam-Webster dictionary lists humble as:

1: not proud or haughty : not arrogant or assertive

2: reflecting, expressing, or offered in a spirit of deference or submission

3a : ranking low in a hierarchy or scale : insignificant, unpretentious

b : not costly or luxurious

Easton’s Bible dictionary says that humility is a great paradox in Christianity because it is the avenue to glory.

What do we do with so little to discuss?  There is the real question.  As a Christian, I was often told that humility had everything to do with how human beings viewed themselves before God.  That in relation to the greatness of the infinite, the finite should remember their place.  Maybe here is where we should begin.  Thomas Aquinas wrote in Suma Theologica that the only thing we can say about God with any certainty, is what God is not. 

These ideas remind me that I have to temper my statements about what God wants, how God works, or what God is doing with the idea that I might be totally wrong.  That is, if I’m going to remember my place in front of God as a part of the Creation, then I have to be willing to change as I come to understand what is the infinite magnitude of that which I worship.  Yes, I do have Holy Scripture to guide me, and the Holy Spirit to counsel me, but I’m still human. 

We can look at our history and see this.  There were pastors on both sides of the debate on slavery and civil rights in America, and now we have them on both sides of the LGBT debate.  I won’t say that one is following the Bible and the other is not, but I will say that we should be humble when we begin to declare that something is God’s way of looking at an issue.  Maybe this way we can have a conversation and not just a shouting match.

Everyone Take a Breath

Americans love, no crave, simple answers to complex situations.  We see an issue, like poverty, and say, “Well, if people just work harder,” or “The wealthy are hogging all the money,” or “It’s pure racism.”  None of those answers are totally wrong, but they do not encompass the entire issue.  Some problems that humanity confronts require responses as nuanced as the initial problem.  To dismiss these issues with short, platitudes negates the real issues and the people who are affected by them.

Today, the biggest issue is gun control, and none of the bills that failed were small or simple.  Likewise the issues they are attempting to address, escalating social violence, change in cultural understanding of firearms, and the fragmentation of our populace, are not questions we can answer with one new piece of legislation.  These times are ones to discuss and talk about how to make new paths for the future and try to unpack some of these issues.  There are parts of our lives that, while not directly impacted by policy, will still feel the impacts of our choices, and all of these need to be taken seriously.

When it comes to firearms, it looks like gun owners have won.  While you are celebrating, my question to you is, “What is the cost?”  While I know that there were letters written by many individuals, and rallies by people at state capitals across the country, the public depiction is one of lobbying groups grabbing the microphone in order to portray themselves as victims.  This is the image that has been given to our culture, and it will be how people know you from here on.  The work of the individuals who came together as a community are lost amidst the image of the suit-wearing lobbyists who spout legal and political jargon like the senators who voted.  Is that the image you want shown to the world?

And, when everything was voted down, where there things in there that could be seen as positive steps?  The bill that would have added veterans who required a fiduciary due to mental health issues to the background check pool may have been something to talk more about.  During the months leading up to this vote, there was no real public discourse about the merits or faults of this particular piece of legislation.  While not wanting to cast a disparaging view on veterans, should we have reconsidered this?  The bill does not remove their ability to buy a firearm, just their exempt status from state run background checks.  Can we continue to talk about this for future reconsideration?  What is the issue.

On the other side of the issue, there are considerations that need to be addressed as well.  The “universal background check” bill was supposed to seal the cracks that allowed bad people to acquire a firearm.  Since the tragedy of Newtown, CT, this has been a focus on those who suffer mental infirmities, as well as others, but we will focus on the mental health issue.  If we are to include mental health declarations in the database used for firearms purchases, do we have to change HIPPA?  Those things would, in a sense, violate doctor-patient confidentiality, and therefore personal privacy.  If you say you are not going to change HIPPA, then you will not have the information you are wanting, and will make the law impotent other than to take away a private individuals power to control their own possessions.  Does this mean we have to legislate what is a private mental health matter and a public information issue?  To be egalitarian, would we want for everyone’s mental health to be a matter of public record?  As someone who has been to therapy in the past, I do not want you knowing what I talked about with my therapist, and I think many would agree tot hat sentiment

While not going into specifics or taking sides, I read the proposed bill, and that was one issue that was never addressed.  Now, you are angry and think there are 46 people who you should be summarily voted out for not approving this bill, but harsh language will not fix this matter either.  President Obama tweeted, though I’m sure he was not the one who sent it, that 98% of Americans favored the bill that was used.  I’m sorry, but I was never asked.  Where does this information come from?  That questions would require pages to address saber-metrics and how those things are measured.  I do not have the expertise to address such an issue.  Besides, this is a blog post, and shouldn’t be that long.

The real issue is that the sun has risen again, and we have to live in this world that rose with us.  We may be angry, or we may be rejoicing, but we need to slow down and look at the people around us.  The issue that lies before us is that both groups are worried about their personal security.  One wants the freedom to take that upon themselves, and the other wants to have a government that is big enough and powerful enough to do it.  Neither is right, and neither is wrong.  Both are a collection of people trying to discern the best for the future of the United States.  May we have the wisdom to see ourselves in the other.

What is Your Response?

As a white, middle-class, American Christian, suffering does not come to my door all that often.  Still, what I might call suffering may not be seen as suffering in the context of another. While newly married and struggling with all the things that come with being young, struggling to meet my financial responsibilities would probably not count as suffering.  My life has never been threatened, I've never had to hide my beliefs from an oppressive social government.  And contrary to the rants of some, my ability to worship as a person has never been stifled in the public square, and though there may be contentions, this is not persecution or suffering.

What is suffering, though, is when a horrible thing like the bombings in Boston takes the life of a young child.  People innocently gathering to enjoy a test of endurance and physical discipline only to become the victims of a terrible act.  In the aftermath, people are left broken, both physically and emotionally, and we as a society have a dark shadow of fear thrown over us.   We search for answers of who did this, why did this happen, what do they want, and how do we respond? 

Many of those questions can not be answered by those who have to find a way to live in the aftermath.  Instead, we should focus on how we will respond.  Voices have already called out over the noise to say what we will or should do as a response.  The cries for retribution have come from all levels, including the president.  I'm sure that as this next Sunday arrives we will get responses from all across the spectrum from ministers who will tell us that its either judgment for some sin or an act of evil that calls for a swift response, and others will ask us to pray for the peace to heal the broken.  The name of God will be bandied about in order to support these perspectives, and we are left to find where we stand in this situation.

While I did not suffer directly, and will not call myself a sufferer because I am a citizen of the country where this happened, people are suffering unjustly.  Bodies have been damaged, emotions are raw, and some are mourning.  This forces us to look at ourselves and marvel at those who respond positively in the moment with courage and compassion, but we should also analyze what it is about ourselves that wants to see these graphic pictures of broken people as well as why we should have to call for more violence as a response.  The smoke is still rising and surgeons are still working.  Evidence of who did this and why has not come forward, but we are ready to strike.  Why?  What compels us to have a response so soon?  As a Christian, is this good?

Since I call myself by the name of Christ, which in and of itself can be problematic, I must look to the example of Jesus' to find a place where I can live in this new present.  I am continually drawn back to this verse.

  “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’  This is the greatest and first commandment.  And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’  On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” Matthew 22:37-40 NRSV

It is incredible how we can use, and misuse this statement.  It's not a "good" commandment, or a "great" commandment, but the "greatest" commandment.  I have to start here.  I want to respond with anger, I want to be the avenging angel of God, at least in my own little movie of how my life works, but that is not what Jesus lays out as my path.  While it may be uncool to look at the Christian Bible, that's where I'm led, and so I will not apologize for it.  I think there are things we NEED to remember about life.  It's just that important. 

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’  But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,  so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.  For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same?  And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?  Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.  Matthew 5:43-48 NRSV

While I will overlook the discussion of who is and who is not a Gentile, and why that word can be offensive, this seems so much like a way to ignore the real power of the verse.  "Love" is supposed to be our response.  This love is greater than violence exactly because it does not respond with violence.  It's like trying to break the cycles of familial violence.  If we want to see a new future, we should live a different present.  Continually reacting with more violence and taking of life will change nothing.  Though Osama Bin Laden is dead, we have another attack that kills more.  Though we have ended one war, we have scaled up another.  We say we are fighting terror, while our drones terrorize people half-way around the world.  

Our newsfeeds will be flooded with images of the bloodied and anguished.  Some will win awards for the raw images they can show us of the "moment," and our society will take them in with hands on hearts saying, "we must do something."  Why do we need/want to see such things?  Is not the pain of a person a private thing?  Is it exploitation of the individual to flash these things on the cover of Time and the broadcasts of Fox and MSNBC?  Are we so inhuman that we must see horrific pain in order to feel a connection?  Isn't this just as violent a treatment of these people as the initial act?

I believe there can be love in just letting people weep and wail in private.  I think we can feel empathy without being forced to sickness by the gratuitous.   Human beings are an incredible animal in our ability to perceive beyond ourselves.  I can feel pain without having to have my body destroyed by fire and ball-bearings, and I can also feel pain over loss without having to be shown death.  Can these images be our only motivator for response?

So, now I am on the other side of yesterday.  There are more hurting people in the world, and I have to respond.  I could respond in the vein of past statements that it is our imperative to work on the part of God to remove violence. (This is a summary not a direct quotation.)  Unfortunately, if I am to structure my ethics on the foundations of the teachings of Jesus, then violence can not be my response.  The violent actions of Boston cause me to mourn, and I want to join with those who hurt in solidarity.  I weep for you, and I pray that the peace of the God who mourns is with you and your families.  Peace be with you.

Can we break down our barriers and build bridges?

As a member of Generation Y, or the Millennials, or whatever you want to call it, I have watched my immediate predecessors, Gen X, deconstruct the institutions of the church in response to the fragmentation of society. As we have drawn lines between, conservatives and liberals, fundamentalists and progressives, we have used deconstruction to tear down both the institutions with which we have contended, but also the traditions and doctrines to which we owe our theological heritage. The exercise in itself is a therapeutic and has helped many to see that there were misplaced assumptions taking central roles in our theological proclamations.

However, after deconstruction we are left with a pile of rubble and a lot of cynicism about the future. Our language that has developed in its wake makes it almost impossible to start a new discussion. It's almost as if we can do nothing more than just talk about what we have torn down. "Look at all that junk. Isn't it great that we don't have to live under such a pile of rubble built on air and faulty foundations? I'm so glad we moved away from this horribly destructive idea of foundationalism and modernity."

While there is something valuable to be had in taking apart our unchallengeable proclamations, how do we really be peacemakers in its wake? In this regard, both sides of the argument, those defending the old structures and those who have destroyed them, seem to just want to walk away or convert the other. Agreeing to disagree, while such an uplifting statement 10 years ago, will not truly grab hold of the Gospel and incarnate it. If we are agreeing to disagree then we just walk away and leave the tension of our conflict between us. How can we really be peacemakers and reconcile the world to Jesus if we can not reconcile ourselves to other Christians?

Somehow, someway, we have to break this cycle. Disparaging the other Christian just because we think we are right and they are wrong will never fix it. Just talking about it will only bring about more words and more language, but it will never heal the wounds. The hurt of being told we have lost the Way is painful, but if we can not take the steps to sharing love for healing, then we are stuck in pain. Liberating ourselves from this narrow us-them, right-wrong, left-right vision of the world is imperative to continuing to follow God. We have to start walking again.

What are we doing?

I recently had an experience that brings the disputes amongst Christians into a very sharp focus.  I had joined a discussion group for Confessing Christians and joined a conversation on what is the biggest issue facing the American church.  Topics such as these should be happening on a daily basis in order to help us see what is in front of us everyday.  The argument was limited to four choices that were seen as the big ones.  All of them focused on doctrinal issues, the use of creeds of confessional statements, or focusing on the Bible as the sole authority in of ecclesiology.  I, however, disagreed with all of them and made an argument that the biggest issue facing the church is a lack of humility from church people.

I believe we spend to much time preaching AT people rather than living WITH them.  I tried to temper my statements with the idea that we are fallible human beings who need to remember that we serve an infinite God.  In essence, "Now, we see in part and we know in part, but then we will know, as we are fully known."  This isn't an argument against anything in particular or for anything in particular.

The responses however were not as equitable.  I was told that I should read my Bible more, and then given a list of verses to support a specific argument.  I tried to politely respond with Scriptures of my own and then added that I wanted to avoid throwing the Bible at each other in a hope to achieve an "I Gotcha" moment.  I was then told that that was the real problem.  Because I wanted to avoid using the Bible because I didn't want to misuse it, I am then endorsing putting away all Scriptural authority.  I got really upset and had to remove myself from the group because I didn't want to say something hateful.

It's this black-and-white mindset that I really want to discuss.  Have we become so fragmented as a body of Christ that we cant think outside of our little communities.  Now, before we start saying that this is the problem with conservatives and then spout invective at them, we need to see that this goes both ways.  It's too easy to tear down and walk away from an argument, but to rebuild is even more difficult.  I shouldn't have walked away, as I look back.  It doesn't mean that I'm right and they are wrong, but how do we make peace if we are always walking away from these discussion?  Things will only get worse, and never get better if we continue to build walls between each other.  We say that from both sides. 

I'm not a conservative Christian, I know that is a real shock, but we progressives, liberals, moderates, whatever we want to call ourselves are just as guilty of erecting barriers.  We can just as unforgiving in the way we say the world works, and accepting no alternatives.  If we want to forgive and accept people, then we need to forgive and accept those who do not do that for us.  Jesus is supposed to be our example, and that means we have to go to them. 

This brings me back to the title of the post.  What are we doing?  Are we actually building things and making peace, or are we retreating into our labels and hiding from others?  We have to tackle this issue seriously and with compassion.   The greatest issue I see facing the church is that we are too busy pushing people away, and these are the people who are, in essence, our brothers and sisters in Christ.  We have to do something to build bridges and bring healing to our body.  It's suffering.