Dear Friends at Trinity,
The root word from which we derive the words – humble, humility, and even
humiliation – is the word for – ground…the earth…soil. A humble person is
one who keeps his head lowered and his eyes focused on the ground. He does
not look up. How did this particular posture of the body come to be associated
with a feeling of unworthiness?
Dogs roll over on their backs so you can scratch their belly. This posture is
indicative of submission. The dog exposes to his owner his underbelly which,
if attacked, is his most vulnerable spot. This gesture makes sense. It is as if the
dog rolled over on his back is saying: “I place myself into your hands. I
present myself as totally vulnerable to you and exposed so as to show you that
I trust you completely and am confident in your good will.”
And we say: “Oh look, he wants you to scratch his belly.” We miss the full implication of the gesture. But there remains; even if we miss it, a logic behind the dog’s posturing.
But what’s the logic behind looking ground-ward and an inward sense of someone’s self-worth? Is it a gesture to decline to meet someone else eye-to-eye? If so, then there is, by implication, a sense of self-dignity in looking another person in the eye. It is as if by meeting another individual’s gaze we declare our belief that we are at least the other person’s equal. “I can look at you. I can peer into your eyes wherein I behold your humanity.” The eyes are the window to the soul. “I am not awed by your humanity because I, too, am a human being.” (Incidentally, the word ‘human’ comes from that same root word as humility and humble – from the word for – dirt – because Adam was formed from the dirt.)
Here’s another thought. It’s sort of a “which came first – the chicken or the egg?” – question.
Psychologically speaking, do people who feel inwardly humble instinctively bow their heads to the
ground, or, do people who keep their heads bowed tend to be humble?
I would have guessed that it’s more the former. And I might still hold to that thought. But it occurred to me that there might be, at the same time, a good deal of truth to the latter: that a lowered head may promote a sense of humility.
I cite as my test-case the parable of the Pharisee and the publican, recorded in Luke 18. The Pharisee
proudly prays thanks to God that he’s not like other men…not like that tax-collector there in the back. The publican, in the rear, is described as keeping his head bowed to the ground. What is he afraid to look up at?
Presumably he doesn’t wish to look up because he is fearful due to his abasement before God. The text literally says: “…he does not lift his eyes to the sky” – or heaven (they are the same word). But do we expect to look up and see God eye-to-eye? Can we hide our face and our guilt from God and avoid His attention by looking downward? Do we behave like schoolchildren who haven’t done our homework and wish to avoid the teacher’s glance so that we won’t be called upon and embarrassed?
Another possibility occurred to me. I have to credit Ken Haselhuhn for giving me the clue. What would the tax-collector see if he raised his face? He would see the pompous Pharisee who is thankful for his superiority over the tax-collector. What would be the effect of seeing such? Could it perhaps be resentment or anger? Envy perhaps? I can imagine any of these. Does anyone enjoy feeling degraded? Do you feel admiration or respect for the one who denigrates you? You may feel fear; fear from the wrath of one who is insulted that you would dare to meet him eye-to-eye as if to imply that you were his equal.
But – how about this? Whatever instinctive impulse prompts you to lower your head, the effect of your gesture is that you are not paying attention to others around you. You have quit the comparison game. You are not measuring yourself against anyone else.
So maybe humility, in a certain sense, is not so much about self-denigration (denigration in comparison to whom?). Maybe humility is to consider yourself only before God and the image that He represents of that which is good and true and – what you should become; in other words – your highest & truest self. That is the only true measure.
So, in other words, humility bows its head for much the same reason as that given to you as a little child when you asked: “Why do people bow their heads when they pray?” The answer was – “so as not to be distracted.” With your eyes open and looking around, you engage yourself in a social scene and a social setting that too easily captivates your attention and draws your focus away from prayer.
Maybe with our heads bowed in a posture of humility we become humble (self-considering more than self-abasing) because the social scene squashes humility. In a social setting we are tempted either toward pride (thinking we’re better) or resentment (due to feeling debased).
The upshot of all of this is to recognize that humility is not simply a concentration upon one’s faults and deficiencies but, equally, upon one’s possibilities because the standard to which we aspire is not the Pharisee in front but the image of God. The image of God is a much higher hope and a greater expectation.
So, although our shortcoming before that standard is more pronounced, it also implies that we have
the highest of hopes for ourselves because what we aspire to is not an unattainable goal; only one as of yet not attained. What our Lord hopes and wants for us, rather than being out-of-reach, is the promise we live under. We don’t just hope to reach the image of God (all the while conceding that we don’t believe that we’ll ever really arrive there) – it is promised to us by the One who keeps all of His promises.
You’ll get there. Just don’t look up at the Pharisee and set your sights too low.
In Christ,
Pastor Picard