Defining Humility, Part 1: "Lived Humility"

The biggest problem with my master's degree thesis, according to the University of Louisville history professor from my board, was that it was attempting to define the wrong word.  Without getting into too much detail, my thesis was an attempt to define the concept of "lived orthodoxy" according to the medieval author St. Bede (673-735 A.D.), as exemplified in his Ecclesiastical History of the English People.  My point was that the Venerable Bede, through retelling the stories of English saints, kings and laypeople, was attempting to show what it should mean to actually live out true faithfulness to the gospel message in one's own time and geographical location.  I am still unsure whether "orthodoxy" is the right word to cover this issue from a medieval-studies perspective (partly because neither I nor the three professors on my board could come up with anything better), but I bring it up because I think the idea of a "lived" or practical definition is something we should all consider when we throw around terms like "orthodoxy" or "humility."  We have to have some idea of what the concepts would look like if we actually hope to encounter them in our own lives. 

As for the practical definition of "humility," I think that the World and even most faithful people (including myself) have a few mistaken beliefs--or at least instincts--about it.  Perhaps the most obvious misconception about humility is that it is merely a process of self-deprecation.  The idea here is that because humility involves acknowledging shortcomings, the person who puts himself down constantly must be accomplishing the goals of true humility.  A lot of people do this, at least some of the time.  There are at least two problems with this view of humility.  The more naturalistic problem with it is that there is not much attraction to this type of self-thought.  No one enjoys feeling constantly criticized by others; it does not make things better when the critic is the self.  Human nature suggests that this practice of "humility" will ultimately turn out to be toxic and unsustainable.  The more spiritual problem with this method, it seems to me, is that the negativity of consistent self-deprecation is at odds with God's plan of salvation.  If we are meant for eternal life, there is much we will have to leave behind.  But we can become more holy than we are.  If we look at ourselves objectively, we will find that there is bad, which we must call "bad," and there is good, which we must call "good."  The example of the saints tells us that we must give credit for the good that we do to the presence of God with us and in us, but this does not mean that the good is not still part of us.  True humility must also mean embracing the good as a sign of the promise of a future eternal union with God.

Objectivity can help mitigate the first misconception, but it can be taken to extremes as well. François de La Rochefoucauld said, "humility is the worst form of conceit," and whatever his own purposes in making this observation, I think that his words all too often (though certainly not always) ring true.  Humility can become conceit when we participate in another major misconception about humility.  This misconception happens when we look at ourselves objectively, but still within the limiting sphere of humanity--our peers, our generation, our ancestors, or the World in general.  In this case, we apply a relative standard to our objective view of ourselves based on our objective view of those around us.  We rank ourselves as being worse than some and better than others.  The attraction of this view is that it goes along with the standards set by most of life.  As the saying goes, "You don't have to outrun the hungry bear; you just have to outrun the person who is with you."  When we look at ourselves with this kind of objectivity, we can come up with all sorts of ways to feel superior to others while "graciously" admitting that we are not the best.  In the end, this way of thinking rarely constitutes motivation for self-improvement because becoming the best version of ourselves has nothing to do with how good or bad others may be.

True humility needs a standard that is not relative.  This standard is Christ.  And if Christ is the standard, then it only makes sense to observe Christ to see what true humility should "look" like.  This is how I take Jesus' words in Matthew 16:24, "Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me."  When we are truly living out humility, we will be capable of following this directive. Our own lived humility must "look" like the kind of purposeful suffering that our savior took upon himself for the sake of those he loves.