My wife and I have a standing joke. She loves the word "cute" and I'm still trying to decide. Before marriage, I didn't know the multitude of things that could be considered cute: a puppy, shoes, an over-stuffed chair, artwork, and an over-forty husband. For me, cute was reserved for girls but not guys so when my wife would say on a Sunday morning as I'm walking out the door, "You're cute," I didn't know what to say. "Thank you" felt odd and "You think so?" felt worse. So I went with, "I know" and we have a chuckle. Why? Because we generally disapprove of anyone who would reply that way. Even if we think it's true, it smells arrogant, like a woman who is proud of her designer perfume and uses it too generously.
Pride stinks. At least in others. I can always recognize it in "those people" but it's more subtle in myself. I find it an absolute turn-off in a prospective friend and the way to kill a long-term camaraderie. I mean, when have you listened to someone talk non-stop about themselves for an hour and said, "Wow, I can't wait until we do this again." Nope. We look for ways to exit. We try cues. We pray for a text, a phone call, anything to give reason for escape. Pride in others is repulsive.
But do I excuse it in myself? "Hey, it's my turn." And how do I acquire pride's polar opposite--that elusive trait of humility? There are no quantum leaps to humility. No conferences to attend: "Join the top leaders in America and learn how they achieved humility." But it's a beautiful quality. At least the kind of humility that is truly Christian.
It's easier to describe what humility isn't than what it is. It isn't groveling. It isn't self-deprecation (which is closer to pride than we are prone to admit.) Neither is it necessarily shy. Even shyness can be connected to self-preservation. Rather, Christian humility is others-focused.
Some of C.S. Lewis' snapshots on humility help us. Like this one,
"Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will be what most people call “humble” nowadays: he will not be a sort of greasy, smarmy person, who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody. Probably all you will think about him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him...He will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all." (C.S. Lewis, "Christian Behavior, 1944, p. 49)
A humility test might be, "When I leave a conversation, did I spend more time thinking about myself, my words, my experience, or them, their experience, their heart?" That may be the test, but how do I get there? How do I acquire such a beautiful characteristic?
Here's what I can do. I can practice putting others first by considering their desires. I can serve and give anonymously. I can practice gratitude for others' abilities both in public and in private prayer. I can celebrate my enemies' success. (Ouch. I was doing okay until that last one!)
Most importantly, I can embrace humility by frequent reminders to worship the Creator more than the creature. I can gather in worship as one of many on the common ground of grace before the throne of God--where I don't deserve to stand yet take my place among the millions of blood-washed recipients of a holy God's kindness.
So are you with me? Will you register for our next conference on humility? The speakers are gonna be great. The music will be off the chain...
Just kidding.
