8 The Moon When the Chokecherries Are Black
The Moon When the Chokecherries Are Black
JULY 16–AUGUST 12
I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.
Humility of heart is born in a person from two sources: full awareness of one’s sins and contemplation on the humility of our Lord.
BEING HONEST ABOUT YOURSELF AND THE WORLD AROUND YOU
The seventh Lakota virtue is Wowicake, “truth.” Here is how this virtue is described: “Truth is being honest about yourself and the world around you.”
What a wonderful way to think about this virtue. Honest about myself. Honest about the world around me. That’s what I need.
IKTÓMI, THE TRICKSTER
In The Lakota Way Joseph Marshall writes, “I asked my grandfather once, when he was in his sixties, . . . if he could tell me what truth was. ‘I don’t think I’ve lived long enough to know that,’ he said, ‘all I know is that without it Iktómi would be the most powerful being on earth.’”
In Lakota lore Iktómi is the Trickster who promises an illusive reality but in truth delivers an opposite reality.
Marshall then adds, “We Lakota have heard Iktómi sing several times. At the Fort Laramie Treaty Council of 1851, as thousands upon thousands of white emigrants made their way along the Oregon Trail from Missouri to Oregon and passed through Lakota territory, the United States peace commissioners told us, ‘They are only passing through and need only as much room as the width of the wagon wheels.’”
Next Marshall references the Fort Laramie Treaty of 1868 which “established the Great Sioux Reservation—the entire western half of the current state of South Dakota—for ‘as long as the sun shall rise, as long as the rivers shall flow, as long as the grasses shall grow.’”
Iktómi, the Trickster, has once again spoken an illusion and run roughshod over the truth.
HUMILITY IN ITS MOST FUNDAMENTAL FORM
I arise at 6:00 a.m. with the hopes of getting on the canyon trail by 7:30. Even so, it is quite warm at the trailhead. I am the second person on the trail this day so it is a solitary hike . . . except for that first person. He is a jogger that takes to these trails at a rather good clip. After half an hour I see him heading toward me. I give him a wide berth and tip my hat to him. For about ten seconds I envy his athletic prowess and wish for it for myself. On the eleventh second reality strikes me: “He is a twenty-something and I am a seventy-something!” Humility, I think, involves recognizing my place in the scheme of things. At seventy-nine I am grateful just to be walking these trails, if even at a slower pace these days.
I decide to take the route that Nate and I took when he was here a couple weeks ago. This adds an extra loop up along the base of the western canyon walls by the cave. I have a special reason for returning to this trail. I am looking for one particular log step that the park service had installed some years back. I do indeed find it.
Two weeks ago as we were hiking up toward the cliff walls I spied this log and saw carved into its side “KKK.” I pointed with my trekking pole and groaned in disgust at the white supremacy impulse that is growing in our day. Nate, however, simply reached for the back of my daypack and took out my knife hanging from a carabineer. The knife is old—not used for probably a decade—and had to be quite dull. Regardless he opened it up and without a word started carving out the offensive three letters.
After finishing he commented simply, “Some African American couple might be hiking here and become genuine frightened by what . . . or who . . . might be out in these woods.” Exactly! I had looked at that log and saw only offense. Nate looked and saw the potential for pain, fear, and the wounding of human relationship.
Indeed. What Nate did was totally instinctive . . . a quiet example of service to others. I rather think this is humility in its most fundamental form.
THE STORY OF NO MOCCASINS
I was surprised to learn that Joseph Marshall’s book The Lakota Way is organized around the twelve Lakota virtues, humility being the first. Marshall opens the book with the lovely story of “No Moccasins,” a brave and wise Lakota woman who in the end is distinguished for her humility.
No Moccasins lived before the coming of the horses—that is, prior to 1700. Originally her name was “Carries the Fire” and she certainly put the fire into the heart of a young warrior of sterling reputation by the name of Three Horns. After proper Lakota courtship, Carries the Fire and Three Horns are married, have children and grandchildren, and live into old age. By her sixty-seventh winter No Moccasins’ “hair was the color of new-fallen snow” and “the lines in her face seemed to show the many trails she had walked in her life.”
But now for the reason for her name change. It is a story that had never been told until Three Horns, at seventy winters, was nearing death. Many had come to pay him honor and he asks the elders—both men and women—to come to his lodge. Once everyone is gathered, he requests the elders to share the story he is about to tell them in all the campfires in the village. He then proceeds to tell how “Carries the Fire” became “No Moccasins.”
As a young man Three Horns had gone with five other warriors to rescue two young women who had been captured by an opposing raiding party. Moving quickly they track the raiding party south for half a moon into a land unknown to Three Horns. Finally they catch up with the raiding party just as they were arriving at their village. Three Horns and his companions devise an ingenious rescue plan which works perfectly . . . with the single exception that Three Horns is captured. The other five warriors assume Three Horns has been killed in the rescue raid and in great haste they returned north to their village with the heartbreaking news about Three Horns to Carries the Fire.
Carries the Fire grieves bitterly for her husband . . . but somehow, even strangely, she begins to doubt the account of Three Horns’ death. So, she learns where the enemies’ village is located and late one night she dresses in her husband’s clothes, slips out of the village unnoticed, and makes the long and dangerous journey to the enemy camp.
Meanwhile, the enemy tribe takes out their rage . . . and embarrassment . . . at the successful rescue of the Lakota women on Three Horns. He is reduced to a cruel slavery. By day he is forced to drag poles like a dog until his hands and knees are bleeding. By night his hands and feet are tightly bound and stretched between two stout poles. Three Horns admits, “I began to feel lower than a dung beetle.”
Three Horns says, “One night it was cold and rainy, and I was naked and shivering. There was no one about; it was too cold. Even the dogs curled up out of the rain. My heart was sad as I thought about my young wife and that I would never, ever see her again. I thought about her so much that her face appeared to me. After a moment I realized it was real; she was there! While I lay there in disbelief she cut my bonds with her knife, pulled me to my feet, and guided me out of the enemy’s village.”
With the rain covering their tracks they walk quickly through the night. By dawn they arrive at a hiding place Carries the Fire has prepared for them. They hide there and eat and rest until Three Horns regains some of his strength.
Cautiously Carries the Fire and Three Horns start back home knowing that a party of the enemy’s best warriors is hunting for them. Finally, they hide in an old bear’s den to allow Three Horns a chance to rest. As he sleeps Carries the Fire slips out, returning that evening soaking wet and barefoot. She had placed her moccasins near a creek to lay a false trail for their pursuers. Almost being spotted she slips into the creek and hides inside a beaver lodge.
Upon returning to their village days later Carries the Fire refuses to allow Three Horns to tell their story, only allowing him to say that he had escaped from his captors. But Three Horns does give her a new name, “No Moccasins,” never explaining the reason for it.
But now, around his lodge fire he at last shares with the elders the story behind her new name.
Three Horns concludes by saying, “I have known good people in my life. Many were wise, honorable, generous, and brave. But none, except this old woman who sits beside me as always, had the one strength that gives true meaning to all the others—humility.”
THE BURDEN OF HUMILITY IS LIGHT
In concluding the story of No Moccasins, Marshall observes, “The burden of humility is light because a truly humble person divests himself or herself of the need for recognition. The burden of arrogance, on the other hand, grows heavier day by day. In sharing the journey of life, travel with the humble person on the quiet path.”
I love this story of No Moccasins because it takes me in a direction I hadn’t expected. I had been expecting that Three Horns would be held up as the prime example of humility—yet as it turned out, his wife was the one praised. How delightful, and how instructive for our patriarchal culture.
JESUS’ MASCULINITY
Historian Kristin Kobes Du Mez has written a challenging book titled Jesus and John Wayne. It is actually a study in masculinity and she takes special aim at evangelicals’ efforts to define Christian men as “rugged, aggressive GI Joes for Jesus.”
Commenting on Jesus and John Wayne, Episcopal priest Noah Van Niel notes that this way of defining masculinity leaves out central elements of Jesus’ masculinity like “compassion, humility and purpose.” Discussing humility he writes, “Jesus doesn’t use his power to show off or control others; he rejects Satan’s offer of the splendors of the world. His power is for the powerless, made great by being given away. To the poor, the oppressed, and the persecuted he proclaims, ‘Yours is the kingdom of heaven.’” Van Neil argues that Jesus’ masculinity shows us how to “renounce the drive for supremacy and dominance, stop glorifying our own strength and authority, and pursue humility and service, lifting up others, not ourselves.”
Kobes Du Mez and Van Niel are spot on. But, so often, I too am attracted to the tough-guy machismo found in so much of contemporary culture . . . even contemporary religious culture. My heart becomes hardened against a masculinity that would stress “compassion, humility, and purpose.”
May I learn a new way, a Jesus way, as I seek to live with family and friends and neighbors. And, yes, even enemies. Teach me this new way, dear Lord.
THE TRIAD OF QUALITIES
Ephesians 4:2 is a familiar passage to me, but this afternoon it struck me in a new way as I encountered it in the NIV, “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.” Maybe it’s the triad of qualities that caught my attention . . . “humble” . . . “gentle” . . . “patient” . . . combined with the defining phrase, “bearing with one another in love.” Anyway, I think I shall memorize this passage, writing it out on a three-by-five card and carrying it with me for perhaps a month, and see if there are ways it might enhance my understanding of humility.
GOD WATCHES OVER THE HUMBLE PERSON
This afternoon I am sitting with Thomas à Kempis’s marvelous book, The Imitation of Christ. I am using the William Creasy translation that I find the most satisfying. I’ve just turned to book two, chapter two and come upon a meaningful discussion of humility. I have underlined parts of it from past readings, but I don’t remember it. It instructs me exactly where I need help these days in allowing others to observe my faults. Even more, Thomas draws me in close to understand how much God watches over the humble person.
The passage is best quoted in full:
The fact that others know our faults and disapprove of them is often a great help in deepening our humility. When a person humbles himself for his failings he easily satisfies others and he appeases those who are angry with him. God protects and delivers a humble person; he cherishes and consoles him. God gives himself to a humble person; he bestows great grace on him, and after his humiliation he raises him to glory. God reveals his secrets to those who are humble, and he sweetly draws them and calls them to himself. The humble person in the midst of trouble is filled with peace, for he depends on God alone. Do not think that you have made any progress unless you feel truly humble before God and others.
Right now I am struck by the concluding sentence: “Do not think that you have made any progress unless you feel truly humble before God and others.” What a marker for progress in the spiritual life! I’m going to have to live with this statement for a while.
HUMILITY AND OTIUM SANCTUM
I am wondering if there is a connection between humility and what the devotional masters described as otium sanctum, holy leisure. In holy leisure we are set free from the need to control, to push, to earn, to achieve. Holy leisure refers to a sense of balance in life, an ability to be at peace throughout the activities of the day, an ability to rest and take time to enjoy beauty, an ability to slow down and enter the cosmic patience of God.
When people try to define us only by what we produce it takes a deep humility of spirit to move in another direction. Humility gives us the strength to turn from “the frantic scramble of panting feverishness” we see all around us and instead quietly enter otium sanctum, holy leisure.
THE FINEST FLOWERING OF HUMAN VIRTUE
Way back in 1908 W. S. Bruce in The Formation of Christian Character wrote, “The Christian man [he means “human being”] is man at his highest moral efficiency. He is the man with the richest ethical experience. Christian graces are the finest flowering of human virtue. When the Spirit of God begins to quicken and nourish the roots of piety, obligation becomes joyous service, and duty changes its name to delight.”
This reality is so seldom seen in our lived experience because we have so often divorced “Christian” from “character.” We no longer think in terms of the Christian becoming like Christ. Bruce unpacks this problem in careful detail and then directs us to confess, “I hope yet to be like Him, and to see Him as He is.” In so doing, Bruce says, the Christian “feels the power of the moral imperative to purify himself ‘even as He is pure.’”
In this way, says Bruce, “ethics receives a new baptism. It gives to all virtuous activity stability, encouragement, and permanence.” The virtues “give firmness to . . . the fabric of Christian character.”
Yes, indeed. And for the follower of Jesus humility is first among the virtues.
THE GREAT EQUALIZER
Today, I went to the memorial service for Larry Crabb. A moving service on multiple levels. The experience causes me to reflect on death as the great equalizer. It comes to us all. It overtakes the powerful just as surely as the impotent, the famous as surely as the obscure, the strong as surely as the weak, the rich as surely as the poor. To say “death happens” would not make a peppy bumper sticker. But, say it we must . . . it happens to me . . . it happens to us all . . . death happens.
But for the follower of the Way death does not have the last say. Through the power of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection, our death is ultimately defeated:
Death has been swallowed up in victory.
Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your sting? . . .
thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Cor 15:54-57)
I sit throughout the service quiet and pensive. It is moving to consider the reality of my death and the death of all those sitting around me. But how much more moving to contemplate the ultimate defeat of death in Jesus Christ, our Lord. It is a humbling reality.
WISDOM AND HUMILITY
Is there a connection between wisdom and humility? When we have thoughtful reflection on our multiple experiences in life—both good and bad—it provides us with knowledge. But knowledge, by itself, is not wisdom. So, how do we move from knowledge to wisdom? I’ll think on it for a while.
MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF HUMILITY
When we thoughtfully apply the knowledge that comes through years of experience, we learn ways to overcome our arrogance and impatience and willfulness and anger . . . the list could go on for some time. In The Lakota Way Joseph Marshall writes,
Life demands that we exercise perseverance, face adversity with courage, demonstrate fortitude in the midst of temptation, tell the truth no matter how painful, walk in humility, sacrifice for our families, practice generosity to be truly rich, respect all who are part of the Great Circle of Life, choose honor above personal gain, act with compassion toward the needy, strive for harmony in personal relationships, and otherwise demonstrate the virtues that give meaning to life.
When we make these life-giving choices, it allows us to travel from knowledge into wisdom. Wisdom is choosing the right thing to say and do . . . at the right time . . . in the right place . . . and with the right inner motivation. For us to be able to exercise wisdom in this way requires that we possess massive amounts of humility.
HUMILITY CONTENDS WITH GREATER ENEMIES
In my early search for resources to help me understand how the heart, mind, body, and soul can be formed into the likeness of Christ, I soon realized that a Great Conversation had been going on for centuries on this very subject. One of my early discoveries was a book by William Law (1686–1761) under the rather foreboding title A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life.
Bonhoeffer’s Cost of Discipleship was actually my very first exposure to genuine Christian discipleship. For me it was a goldmine and kept me in the faith throughout my teen years. William Law and his Serious Call came next. What this book did is hard to calculate. For me it enlarged and deepened my understanding of “devotion,” taking it out of merely a pious exercise and placing it squarely in daily life and daily activities.
A Serious Call is not a quick read. I have been in and out of it for decades. The other day I came across an insight into humility which I had never seen before . . . or if I had seen it, I paid scant attention. But this morning the words gripped my heart and awakened my spirit. Here is Law in his own words: “Lastly, courage and bravery are words of a great sound and seem to signify a heroic spirit; but yet humility, which seems to be the lowest, meanest part of devotion, is a more certain argument of a noble and courageous mind. For humility contends with greater enemies, is more constantly engaged, more violently assaulted, bears more, suffers more, and requires greater courage to support itself than any instances of worldly bravery.”
LET EVERY DAY BE A DAY OF HUMILITY
One final teaching on humility from A Serious Call. Like the old writers were known to do, Law includes a rather long sentence of forty-eight words . . . so we need to be patient in unpacking it: “Let every day . . . be a day of humility. Condescend to all the weakness and infirmities of your fellow creatures, cover their frailties, love their excellencies, encourage their prosperities, compassionate their distress, receive their friendship, overlook their unkindness, forgive their malice, be a servant of servants, and condescend to the lowest offices to the lowest of mankind.”