Oh Lord, It’s Hard to be Humble

“The proud man may learn humility, but he will be proud of it.” — Mignon McLaughlin

That’s one of my all-time favorite quotes. I have always been fascinated by the concept of humility. What exactly is it? A state of mind? A lifestyle? Is humility something you have? Or is it something you are. Can a person be humble in some things, but not in others? Or do you have to be one hundred percent totally humble to have humility?

I once heard a preacher say that humility is the strangest virtue of all because the moment you think you finally have it, you’ve lost it! For my part, I can only paraphrase a famous saying. I can’t define true humility, but I know it when I see it. I used to think humility was living a life of service to others without caring if you received any credit or acknowledgement. But after having the privilege of a lifetime of observing some truly humble people, I have come to see it goes deeper than that.

Real humility is a mission of serving others without even realizing there is credit or acknowledgement to be had. The truly humble seem to just live right for the sheer joy that it brings. Most often I have found it connected to a person’s spiritual relationship. In the Bible, the book of James states “Humble yourselves before the Lord and He will lift you up.” Psalm 149 says “For the Lord takes delight in His people. He crowns the humble with victory.” Sure enough, that seems to work for the authentically humble folks that I know. They just live a life of unselfishness because they are secure the love will come back to them. You could, in fact, make the argument that the only way to achieve real humility is through faith in such a higher power.

If you’re lucky, you know people like this. You’ve seen it modeled. You recognize it right away, don’t you? It sticks out like car headlights on a dark street. People who do for others so consistently and quietly, that they might even be a bit surprised and puzzled by any notice or credit.

Here’s an example. United Ability, located off Lakeshore Drive in the Homewood area, provides programs for people who are genuinely disabled. The teachers in those classrooms work very hard and deal with a lot of adversity. But you probably knew that. What you may not know, is that there is a separate staff, whose full time job is to take the participants to the bathroom and, if necessary, help them to execute their bodily functions, clean them up and return them to the classroom. That’s what they do. Every day.

They are called PCA’s, which stands for personal care attendant. You would not expect these workers to be particularly happy campers. You would be wrong. Most of them go about their jobs with a smile on their face, a sweet disposition, and the offer of a helping hand wherever it is needed, while going largely unrecognized by the general public. They are angels of mercy not only to the special needs people they tend to, but to the teachers they assist. I know this to be true. For two years, I was one of the substitute teachers they ministered to.

Seeing humility like that modeled in real life brings home my distance from it. I still get offended when I open a door for someone and they don’t respond with a “thank you”. It’s not for lack of wanting to be humble. (Is it even okay to want to be humble?) I enjoy service to others, and I like to think I have done a bit of it. But alas, I must sheepishly confess that I enjoy, maybe even need, a little acknowledgement once in awhile. Just a little pat on the back. An occasional “attaboy”. I guess I want to be humble, but I want everyone to know that I’m humble.

Thomas Merton said “Pride makes us artificial and humility makes us real”. I suppose that’s what makes true humility so easy to spot, but so hard to emulate. We only approach it when we are content to just be the real person we were created to be, instead of laboring hard to be someone admired by others.

So find the real people in your life. Watch them blush as you tell them how much you love and appreciate their humble walk. You don’t even have to mention you got the idea by reading this column.

See? I’m getting more humble already.