2 The Moon When Trees Crack from the Cold
The Moon When Trees Crack from the Cold
What does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?
All the virtues are interconnected; the truly humble man is also truthful and courageous.
THE FIRST VIRTUE
The first of the twelve Lakota virtues is Unsiiciyapi, “humility.” Honest. I did not change the order; humility is the first virtue of the twelve. Here are some comments about this virtue: “The first and most important step in life and especially on the spiritual path is humility which is the opposite of pride. In terms of spirituality, if the step of humility is skipped it results in delusions of grandeur. Humility is the foundation of all the other virtues. If you brag about your generosity then it spoils the generosity.”
I find these thoughts to be quite consistent with a Christian understanding of the moral life.
A ROARING FIRE
It began snowing this morning and is supposed to continue all day and into the night. There is no sense in clearing a way out to the road until tomorrow, hence this is a good day for me to stay in and turn the time into a one-day retreat. Hopefully, this can allow me to dwell on some of the many biblical passages that deal with the theme of humility. A couple days ago I brought in a good stock of firewood in anticipation of the snow coming. So, I have built a roaring fire downstairs in my study and went upstairs to let Carolynn know that I am in retreat for the day. She is delighted to leave me alone so she can give her full attention to income tax matters (bless her).
The snow comes down in absolute silence. No wind whatsoever. This, of course, quiets everything out in the woods. Outside my study window I can see the deer scratching and grazing. A layer of snow covers their backs but they seem oblivious to it all. The temperature is supposed to drop down to zero as the evening comes on. I am quite cozy with my fire warming the entire downstairs. Just now I take a cup of coffee and sit in my chair, which faces the fire. The logs pop and crackle a bit but even these sounds seem subdued. I sit still until the coffee cup is empty, quietly considering various passages on humility and arrogance and related themes. I wonder . . . where does arrogance rear its ugly head in my life? How may I cultivate humility of heart more fully? Can I learn simply to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God?
I end my retreat with my brain feeling fried and go to the treadmill for a little exercise. Today going out in the weather is not wise, though that is where I would rather be!
TWO SPECIAL WORDS
A special word enters our New Testament from a vast background in Greek philosophical thought and tradition. The word is aretē and the normal English translation is “virtue.” The apostle Peter, for example, uses aretē as he provides us with a progressive list of how we are to grow in grace: “add to your faith virtue (aretē); and to virtue knowledge; and to knowledge temperance; and to temperance patience; and to patience godliness; and to godliness brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness charity” (2 Pet 1:5-7 KJV).
Another word that enters our New Testament is dikaiosynē and it is often translated as “righteousness.” In what we have come to call the Sermon on the Mount Jesus teaches us, “unless your righteousness (dikaiosynē) exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 5:20). Actually, both words mean the same thing: “to function well.” Plato tended to use dikaiosynē and Aristotle used aretē. Aristotle won the linguistic battle and even today we speak of “virtue ethics” to describe efforts to understand ethical or virtuous behavior.
Now, this understanding of aretē meaning “to function well” is genuinely important for us today because we have become so accustomed to the normality of “dysfunction.” Indeed, we can hardly even conceive of a person who functions well!
The concept of virtue was developed considerably in Greek thought, especially by Aristotle in his Nicomachean Ethics. Indeed Aristotle had an entire list of virtues. Interestingly, humility was not on his list.
THE PANTHEON OF VIRTUES
The idea that “humility” should be placed among the pantheon of virtues is deeply Hebraic and Christian in origin. In the Greek and Hellenistic world “humility” (tapeinos in Greek) was far from something to be valued, or even desired. Humility was almost universally used in a pejorative sense meaning “insignificant,” “servile,” “lowly.” Gerhard Kittel, in his exhaustive Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, writes, “The Greek view of humility exalts freedom and despises subjection. Hence it qualifies tapeinos negatively.”
However, the life and teachings of Jesus place humility in an entirely different light. Jesus declares, “The greatest among you will be your servant. All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted” (Mt 23:11-12). And Paul in his magnificent hymn in Philippians 2 writes about the signal action of Jesus who humbled himself unto death, even death on a cross. The New Testament writers use tapeinos some thirty-four times, always with a positive ring.
Early Christian scholars took this radical rethinking of humility and classified it under the notion of aretē, virtue. John Cassian, for example, calls humility “the mother and mistress of all the virtues.” He adds that, in contradistinction to the pagan understandings of virtue in his day, humility “is the precise and magnificent gift of the Savior.”
Our contemporary culture views humility in much the same negative manner as the ancient Greek and Hellenistic world. So, the Christian witness to the enormous value of humility as a central virtue is just as countercultural today as it was in the first century.
HUMILITY COMES FROM ELSEWHERE
Augustine of Hippo is the key theologian to insist on humility as a specifically Christian virtue. He explained that the other philosophical traditions of his day—Epicurean, Stoic, and Platonist—simply disregarded humility. Even the great Aristotle does not include humility in his list of virtues. Why? Well, Augustine’s answer is simple: “Humility comes from elsewhere, from the One who, being the Most High, wished to empty Himself for us.”
It is stunning to think that Christ, in his life and teachings, turned the human understanding about humility on its head. All the more important for we who seek to follow in his steps to value this central Christian virtue.
HUMILITY AND SERVICE
I will need to interact much more with the biblical witness, but already I am struck by the close connection between humility and service. Right after resolving a dispute among the Twelve over who is the greatest, Jesus states, “I am among you as one who serves” (Lk 22:27). And the wise apostle Paul writes, “For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned” (Rom 12:3). With this as a backdrop Paul then launches into a teaching on how we are to live in unity: “We, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are many members one of another” (Rom 12:5).
Anyway, this paring of humility and service feels like a helpful concept to consider. I think I shall experiment with it for a while and see what I can learn.
SERVICE AND ANGER DON’T MIX
Today I learned the hard lesson that service and anger don’t mix. I was working in the kitchen cleaning this and that. Indeed, I was rather proud of my little act of service!
Just then Carolynn made a remark that did not sit well with me. I quickly responded in anger . . . and, of course, I got back exactly what I deserved. Our anger only lasted a short time and we quickly made up. But by this point any thoughts of humility were out the window.
It did underscore for me how destructive anger is to any genuine service. The incident helped to solidify in my mind how the virtues are all interrelated. Kindness, patience, gentleness, humility, service, and more; they all work in concert.
SERVICE WITH CHILDREN
I am seeing that service with children often needs to take the form of play. Not doing things for them or teaching them, but simply playing with them. Also, singing with little ones. I rather imagine that humility grows more easily in this environment because of the absence of pretense that we experience with children. Perhaps we can say that the lack of pretense purifies our actions of service.
THE COURAGE TO SERVE
Humility, I think, has a way of giving us the courage to serve. Courage. At first I thought the word I really wanted was insight or wisdom or even strength. But, no, courage is the word I am after. I often hesitate to serve out of a concern about what others may think about my act of service. Anyway, I think it is humility of spirit that at times infuses us with the courage to serve in good and life-giving ways.
SERVICE AND MOTIVES
I think I am detecting a difference between acts of service that are done with mixed motives as opposed to service with more pure motives. Perhaps we could say, the purer the service the deeper the humility. Of course, we can never have completely pure motives about most anything. So, this is not something to fuss over. It is simply something to observe and step back from whenever the mixture of motives becomes too toxic.
A CRITICAL CONNECTION
In The Rule of St. Benedict we find his “twelve steps of humility.” I’ll plan to return to this material in due time, but right now I notice that many of these steps are working on service in one form or another. The focus is either on service to God or loving service to others in the community. So, even Benedict saw a critical connection between humility and service.
THE DANCE OF THE SNOWFLAKES
It is snowing lightly this afternoon. The flakes are quite individualized falling from the sky. Actually they seem to be not so much “falling” as “dancing” as a frosty breeze tosses them hither and yon. The breeze appears to reverse the descent of some flakes tossing them up higher and then permitting them to descend. Others are twirled around and around on a downward spiral. Every flake will eventually come to rest on the ground covering the pine needles, but they do seem to be taking their time. In my home office I have pulled up all the shades so I have a completely unobstructed view through all four windows of the dance of the snowflakes among the trees. I have yet to build a fire as I was out on errands with Carolynn in the morning hoping to return before the snow came . . . and we have succeeded! Now I have the afternoon and evening unencumbered to watch patiently as the snow, with various detours, descends.
The devotional masters always taught us to read two books: the Bible and the Book of Nature. I wonder if the Book of Nature has anything to teach me about humility. I don’t know, I’m just wondering.
I FELT AN EMPTINESS
I write this in the middle of the night because I can’t sleep. In the afternoon we received the sad news of Bruce’s death. Upon hearing it Carolynn wept a bit and I . . . well, I felt an emptiness the rest of the day.
I remember well when Bruce came to the university to teach psychology. We—Bruce and I—soon developed a collegial relationship, and Carolynn quickly fell into a close friendship with his wife, Judy.
Our relationship deepened when Bruce was hospitalized with a serious brain aneurysm. Together Carolynn and I went to the hospital to pray for him. Not just for comfort or peace but for total healing and complete restoration to normal functioning.
Now, over the years I have prayed with many dear folk for their healing. I have had to walk with some of them to the grave. Others have improved over time, though never fully. Still others have had rapid and relatively complete recovery. But Bruce’s healing could only be described as miraculous. As we were praying it felt like the healing light of Jesus surrounded Bruce, and the aneurysm began dissolving as the body began restoring itself to health and well-being. Over all the years of ministry and prayer for physical healing I can count on one hand the number of “instantaneous” healings of this nature.
I think of Bruce and Judy as two of the most humble people Carolynn and I have ever had the opportunity to know. No strutting. No name dropping. No efforts to impress. No parading of academic credentials. It made them easy to be with.
Eventually they moved to Springfield, Illinois, so Bruce could take a professorship in their denominational seminary. Later they relocated to Urbana, Illinois. All through the years we have stayed in touch and visited each other. I loved the visit we had with them in Springfield, where Bruce showed me around all the Abraham Lincoln sites. Bruce was something of a lay historian in the field and so our tour included a running commentary on a multiplicity of intriguing and obscure details in the Lincoln story.
Over the years Bruce sent me a couple of books he had written in his chosen field of psychology. They were too technical for a general audience but I found them intriguing . . . at least the parts I could follow. (Our oldest son holds a PhD in clinical psychology, and I have the same difficulty with his writings.)
Tonight I consider Bruce and the way in which humility seemed to permeate him through and through. So many in his academic specialty seem entirely self-focused and arrogant. His loving service to others, most especially his students, and his complete personal self-forgetfulness were truly amazing. Knowing him has immeasurably enriched my life.
HUMILITY AND REPENTANCE
Tomorrow is the beginning of that season in the Christian calendar known as Lent . . . the forty days of preparation for the central event of our faith—the resurrection of Jesus, the Christ.
I’ve tended to have a rather dim view of the contemporary practices surrounding Lent. Often these practices are embarrassingly trivial . . . perhaps fasting from coffee or chocolate or other equally trite things. And for me the liturgical traditions that have grown up around Lent seem to be little more than efforts at “organized gloom,” with no genuine rationale for the gloom. I’m often sorely tempted to tell earnest folk that for Lent I plan to fast from prayer. (And I confess that now and again I have yielded to this temptation.)
However, this season I am drawn to a particular practice found in the Eastern Orthodox Church, a practice that seeks to nurture an interior posture of “humility and repentance” for the Lenten season. (It was the characterization of “humility and repentance” that caught my attention.) Three weeks before Lent begins the Eastern Church observes “the Sunday of the Publican and the Pharisee.” This, of course, is drawn from Jesus’ well-known parable recorded in the Gospel of Luke (18:9-14).
Luke observes that this parable is specifically directed to those “who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt” (v. 9). Wow, is this ever an indictment of today’s modern state of affairs . . . trusting in ourselves that we are righteous and regarding others with contempt. This is the very spirit that saturates the internet and floods talk radio and blogs without number.
In the parable the “prayer” of the Pharisee is far less a prayer than a self-righteous rant: “God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income” (vv. 11-12). Then the contrast of the publican (a tax collector) could not be more striking. He stands far off, keeps his head down, beats his chest, and cries out, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” (v. 13). If we are searching for a model of profound humility, this is it.
This Lenten emphasis on “humility and repentance” keying off of Jesus’ parable of the publican and the Pharisee feels worth exploring. So, I will give some thought to a fitting subject for a Lenten experience of humility and repentance.