|
|||||||
|
A study on the modern "virtue" pride and it's ancient antidote - humility.
|
|||||||
|
It was Mary’s perfect humility, says St. Alphonsus, that became a ladder between heaven and earth. In admiring Mary’s humility, St. Bernard speaks beautifully: “O Lady, how could so humble an opinion of yourself be united in a heart with such great purity, with such innocence, and so great a fullness of grace as you possessed? And how, O Blessed Virgin, did this humility, such great humility, ever take such deep root in your heart, seeing yourself honored and exalted by God in this way? O blessed one, from where did your humility, such great humility, come?”
Lucifer, seeing himself endowed with great beauty, aspired to exalt his throne above the stars, and to make himself like God: “I will ascend to heaven above the stars of God. . . . I will make myself like the Most High” (Is 14:13–14). What would that proud spirit have said, and to what would he have aspired, had he ever been adorned with the gifts of Mary?
The humble Mary didn’t act that way. The higher she saw herself raised, the more she humbled herself. St. Bernard concludes that by this admirable humility, Mary rendered herself worthy to be regarded by God with a unique love; worthy to captivate her King with her beauty; worthy to draw, by the sweet fragrance of her humility, the Eternal Son from his rest in the bosom of God into her most pure womb.
The saint says that although this innocent virgin made herself dear to God by her virginity, yet it was by her humility that she rendered herself worthy, as far as a creature can be worthy, to become the mother of her Creator: “Though she pleased by her virginity, she conceived by her humility.” St. Jerome confirms this insight, saying: “God chose her to be his mother more on account of her humility than all her other sublime virtues.” An ancient author sums it up: “Mary’s humility became a heavenly ladder, by which God came down into the world.” —St. Alphonsus Liguori, The Glories of Mary
IN GOD’S PRESENCE, CONSIDER . . . Am I seeking to cultivate the kind of humility that will draw the Son of God down from heaven to make his home in my heart?
CLOSING PRAYER From a prayer of St. Lawrence Justinian: Mary, you are the ladder of paradise, the gate of heaven, the most true mediatrix between God and man.
Thigpen, Paul. A Year with Mary: Daily Meditations on the Mother of God (pp. 236-237). Saint Benedict Press. Kindle Edition.
26 Proud of My Humility Humility — the one virtue that, if you think you have it, you don’t. Tongue planted firmly in cheek, I talk on my radio program about my years-long pursuit of the coveted humility award, which I finally captured this past year. My winning strategy was simple: While the other contestants attended the finals, awaiting the judges’ ruling, I stayed home, knowing that, were I to win the award and then accept it, I would automatically lose it. Tricky stuff, this humility. What is humility not? It is not thinking of oneself as a spiritual worm, unworthy of God’s or anyone else’s love. It is not disavowing one’s gifts and talents given by God. It’s not swatting away compliments with an attitude that says, “I’m undeserving.” In short, humility is not thinking less of oneself; it is thinking of oneself less. The modern self-esteem movement has relentlessly devalued humility. What now matters most to one’s psychological well-being is not a humble self-image, but a robust one. We all deserve stickers, trophies, and awards. Why? Because we do. I am a special person because I declare me so. It’s critical to my emotional fitness to be always in tune with my own significance. Christians agree — sort of. We are indeed good, valuable, and special, though not because we say so, but because God says so. He awards the life stickers that matter in the end. His declaration of our worth is true self-esteem. It never rises or falls with our social approval numbers or our accumulation of skills, achievements, and education. One can have a truly humble spirit while at the same time being fully self-assured of one’s infinite value. Tricky stuff, this humility. Humility parallels reality. It is a clear-eyed assessment not only of one’s weaknesses and sins and failures, but also of one’s strengths and virtues and successes. If I am a master chess player, then I am a master chess player. It’s not a humble move to deny that. Should I lose to another player, it is right to admit, “He beat me. He may be the superior player.” “He is better than I am” is honest. Humility parallels reality. A humble spirit is not something that can be grasped in itself. It’s the fruit of a mindset: gratitude for all God has dispensed, in talents, achievements, successes, maturity, morality. To humbly acknowledge any gift is to be ever mindful of the giver. Even the desire and effort to maximize those gifts derives from God’s prompting. Humility is not a virtue one can proclaim. “I feel so unworthy.” “I’m not the sweet person you think I am.” “If you knew me better, you wouldn’t think I’m such a good Christian.” Any of which may be a well-meant confession, but would a simple “Thank you” be humbler? It doesn’t say, “Come to think of it, I am most deserving of this honor.” It is a straightforward, “I appreciate your kindness.” Humility underlies all manner of admirable qualities. It leads to an easiness in sincerely uplifting others. Any impulse to compete, to measure up, to show myself superior, or to advertise my intelligence, knowledge, or competence is weaker. As you tell me about your vacation to Europe, I don’t anxiously await my turn to regale you about my three vacations to Italy, with its two Swiss Guard-guided visits to the Vatican and my personal papal audience. Thinking of oneself less leads to thinking of others more. Have you ever met someone, chatted awhile, and formed a favorable first impression? Later you realized why: She was genuinely interested in you. Not nosey, but eager to hear all about your family, your job, your interests. She wanted to know the bits and pieces of who you are and was much less invested in giving you her story and opinions. Somehow she deftly kept the focus on you. Such individuals are appealing, even if they unwittingly corrupt your humility by animating you to talk about yourself. They are anything but self-absorbed; they are other-absorbed. Humility is at the heart of likability. Humility is a safeguard against insecurity, the sense of not being as good as another. It restrains my measuring myself against you, in faith, parenting, housekeeping, finances, lawn care, doubles badminton. Rather than looking at how I compare with others, humility nudges me to look at how I compare with what God wants of me. Of course, I’d better not think, “I must be pretty humble because I really don’t compete with others all that much.” Again, if you think you’ve got it, you don’t. A wistful ditty: “I want to be famous, so I can be humble about being famous. What good is my humility when I’m stuck in this obscurity?” The greater one’s status in the eyes of the world, the greater the need to keep focused on the Author of it all. Humility is a hedge against easy offendedness. It asks, “Who am I to expect respect or recognition for what I do?” Of course, it’s human to want positives, but reality intrudes: We will never get them from everyone, consistently, always. Humility doesn’t demand. It tempers the expectation to be treated as well as I treat others — or as well as I think I treat others. It makes me less sensitive to critical remarks and hurtful conduct. It is the unspoken belief, “Who I am in God’s eyes matters infinitely more than who I am in others’ eyes.” A willingness to forgive accompanies a humble spirit. Realizing my humanness, with all my faults, failures, and fumbles should lead to more tolerance of others’ humanness. If I am merciful to me, I must be merciful to them. I am slower to judge when I know I too may be capable of similar conduct. Should I think, “I’m glad I’m not like that,” then I’ve just lost a bit of humility and might have to exchange my award for a participation trophy. One more time: Humility is seeing who one is through the eyes of all-seeing love — God. It does not seek to lift the self, contrary to modern psychological enlightenment. It seeks to “count others better than [oneself]” (Phil. 2:3). Do so, and you may be nominated for the Humility Award. Of course, you can’t accept it. Tricky stuff, this humility.
Guarendi, Ray . Thinking Like Jesus: The Psychology of a Faithful Disciple (pp. 70-72). Sophia Institute Press. Kindle Edition.
Humility is essential to all the other virtues, St. Alphonsus teaches, and Mary had humility in perfection.
Humility is the foundation of all the virtues, as the holy Fathers of the Church have taught. Let’s consider, then, how great was the humility of the Mother of God. “Humility,” says St. Bernard, “is not only the foundation, but also the guardian of virtues.” He says this with good reason, for without it no other virtue can exist in a soul. Even if a soul has all the virtues, they all will depart when humility is gone. On the other hand, as St. Francis de Sales wrote to St. Jane de Chantal: “God so loves humility, that wherever he sees it, he is immediately drawn there.” This beautiful and so necessary virtue was unknown in the world. But the Son of God himself came to earth to teach humility by his own example. He willed that in this virtue in particular, we should endeavor to imitate him: “Learn from me, because I am meek and humble of heart” (see Mt 11:29). Mary, being the first and most perfect disciple of Jesus Christ in the practice of all virtues, was the first also in the virtue of humility. By it she merited to be exalted above all creatures. It was revealed to St. Matilda that the first virtue the Blessed Mother especially practiced, from her very childhood, was that of humility. —St. Alphonsus Liguori, The Glories of Mary
Thigpen, Paul. A Year with Mary: Daily Meditations on the Mother of God (p. 185). Saint Benedict Press. Kindle Edition.
Nov. 17, 2021 |
A sure way to be humble is to contemplate how, even without
talents, fame or fortune, we can be effective instruments if we go to the
Holy Spirit so that He may grant us his gifts. The apostles, though they had
been taught by Jesus for three years, fled in terror from the enemies of
Christ. But after Pentecost they let themselves be flogged and imprisoned,
and ended up giving their lives in witness to their faith. (Furrow, 283) |
In his preaching, Our Lord Jesus Christ very often sets before
our eyes the example of his own humility. 'Learn from me, for I am meek and
humble of heart' [1], so that you and I may know that there is no other way,
and that only our sincere recognition of our nothingness is powerful enough
to draw divine grace towards us. St Augustine says: 'It was for us that Jesus
came to suffer hunger and to be our food, to suffer thirst and to be our drink,
to be clothed with our mortality and to clothe us with immortality, to be
poor so as to make us rich' [2]. 'God resists the proud, but gives his grace to the humble'
[3], the apostle St Peter teaches. In any age, in any human setting, there is
no other way, to live a godly life, than that of humility. Does this mean
that God takes pleasure in our humiliation? Not at all. What would he, who
created all things and governs them and maintains them in existence, gain
from our prostration? God only wants us to be humble and to empty ourselves,
so that he can fill us. He wants us not to put obstacles in his way so that —
humanly speaking — there will be more room for his grace in our poor hearts.
For the God who inspires us to be humble is the same God who 'will refashion
the body of our lowliness, conforming it to the body of his glory, by
exerting the power by which he is able also to subject all things to himself'
[4]. Our Lord makes us his own, he makes us divine with a 'true godliness'.
(Friends of God, 97-98) [1] Matt 11:29 [2] St Augustine, Enarrationes
in Psalmos, 49,19 (PL 36,577) [3] 1 Pet 5:5 [4] Phil 3:21 |
Humility*
17 My son, conduct your affairs with humility, and you will be loved more than a giver of gifts.
18 Humble yourself the more, the greater you are, and you will find mercy in the sight of God.
20 For great is the power of the Lord; by the humble he is glorified.
21 What is too sublime for you, do not seek; do not reach into things that are hidden from you.
22 What is committed to you, pay heed to; what is hidden is not your concern.
23 In matters that are beyond you do not meddle, when you have been shown more than you can understand.
24 Indeed, many are the conceits of human beings; evil imaginations lead them astray.
Bible: New American Bible, Revised Edition 2011 (Kindle Locations 32025-32032). . Kindle Edition.
Meditation of the Day
|
"The true reason for which God bestows so many graces
upon the humble is this, that the humble are faithful to these graces and
make good use of them. They receive them from God and use them in a manner
pleasing to God, giving all the glory to Him, without reserving any for
themselves. ... It is certainly true that he who is humble is also faithful
to God, because the humble man is also just in giving to all their due, and
above all, in rendering to God the things that are God's; that is, in giving
Him the glory for all the good that he is, all the good that he has and for
all the good that he does; as the Venerable Bede says: 'Whatever good we see
in ourselves, let us ascribe it to God and not to ourselves.' To give thanks
to God for all the blessings we have received and are continually receiving
is an excellent means of exercising humility, because by thanksgiving we
learn to acknowledge the Supreme Giver of every good. And for this reason it
is necessary for us always to be humble before God. St. Paul exhorts us to
render thanks for all things and at all times: 'In all things give thanks.'
(1 Thess. 5:18). 'Giving thanks always for all things.' (Eph. 5:20). But that
our thanksgiving may be an act of humility it must not only come from the
lips but from the heart, with a firm conviction that all good comes to us
through the infinite mercy of God." — Rev. Cajetan da Bergamo, p. 87-8 |
Love seeks to serve, regardless of recognition
Pride seeks to serve, but on the condition of recognition
Watch video reflection here:
You will only be good if you know how to see the good points
and the virtues of the others. That is why when you have to correct, you
should do so with charity, at the opportune moment, without humiliating. And
being ready yourself to learn and to improve in the very faults you are
correcting. (The Forge, 455) |
One of its first expressions is to initiate the soul into the
ways of humility. When we sincerely see ourselves as nothing; when we
understand that, without God’s help, the weakest and most puny of creatures
would be better than we are; when we see we are capable of every kind of
error and every kind of abomination; when we realize we are sinners, even
though we are earnestly struggling to turn our back on our many infidelities,
how could we possibly think badly of others? Or how could we harbour fanaticism,
intolerance or haughtiness in our hearts? Humility leads us as it were by the hand to treat our
neighbour in the best way possible, that is, being understanding towards
everyone, living at peace with everyone, forgiving everyone; never creating
divisions or barriers; and behaving — always! — as instruments that foster
unity. Not in vain is there in the depths of man’s being a strong longing for
peace, for union with his fellow man, for a mutual respect for personal
rights, so strong that it seeks to transform human relations into fraternity.
This longing reflects something which is most deeply imprinted upon our human
condition: since we are all children of God, our fraternity is not a cliché
or an empty dream; it beckons as a goal which, though difficult, is really
ours to achieve... In prayer, with God’s grace, pride can be transformed into
humility. Then, true joy wells up in our heart, even though we feel that the
wings of our soul are still clogged with the mud, the clay of our
wretchedness which is now beginning to dry out. If we practice mortification
the mud will fall off, allowing us to soar very high, because the wind of
God’s mercy will be blowing in our favour. (Friends of God, 233 and 249) |
This is because, as I have told you on other occasions, religion
is the greatest rebellion of men, who refuse to live like animals, who are
dissatisfied and restless until they know their Creator and are on intimate
terms with him. I want you to be rebels, free and unfettered, because I want
you — it is Christ who wants us! — to be children of God. Slavery or divine
sonship, this is the dilemma we face. Children of God or slaves to pride, to
sensuality, to the fretful selfishness which seems to afflict so many souls.