Humility -- The Elusive Quality

This week, I was reading in the New York Times about an exclusive school in New York City called "Avenues: The World School." I didn't get too excited about the prospect of sending my granddaughter who lives nearby to the school -- grade school tuition is $43,000.

As for the curriculum: Mandarin or Spanish language immersion begins in nursery school. Every kindergarten child gets an iPad. And soon students will be able to do a semester in San Paulo, Bejing, or any of the other 20 campuses the school plans to start around the world.

Last September, the school opened with over 700 students from pre-K to 9th grade. High school will soon be offered. At $43K a year, there is a 9-1 student to teacher ratio and a 10 person staff "success" team oversees each student's development.

The news article contained a story that was very revealing. One of the school's parents was a man who had started a his own technology company while still in college. He hired the smartest and most motivated engineers to start his company. They soon found they had to fire two-thirds of them. He went back and tried to figure out what had happened. What was the problem? The weakness was that arrogance reigned in the company when humility was what was needed. [You can read the entire article HERE.]

There is more to this, however. Recently, a number of admissions officers from prestigious east coast colleges were queried as to what high school applicants were missing in their applications. It was, in a word, humility!

Perhaps, in a pathologically competitive, information-saturated city like New York, this is the answer for wealthy anxiety-prone parents. But is it the answer? And what is "success?" Is it economic, relational, or  spiritual success we seek for our children?

One couple gushed over their son's school curriculum, "He'll be so marketable coming out of college with [Mandarin] fluency. There's enough competition domestically!" 
Given this affluence and these expectations, how does an elite school like the Americas teach humility and have it stick? Of course, this is not a new struggle for those of us who see our own spiritual life and the spiritual life of our children in conflict with the gods of profit and social standing -- of being more than just "marketable."

Nevertheless, we should think about this matter of humility and why it is important (something all the leaders of our world's enduring religions taught).

I leave you with a quote from C.S. Lewis whom many of you may know from his popular books Mere Christianity and Chronicles of Narnia:

“As long as you are proud you cannot know God. A proud [person] is always looking down on things and people: and, of course, as long as you are looking down you cannot see something that is above you.”

Humility  

Being modest, not pretentious, not believing you are superior to others; an attitude of "egolessness," and respect for others.

How do we practice humility and inspire it in those with whom we are in relationship? That is one of the most powerful of spiritual questions!

Thinking About Bishops

A 13^th century Christian, Richard of Chichester, was a tireless student of theology. He was constant in devotion to God and his life was filled with unselfish service to others. Although he was born to a prosperous family, he was orphaned at an early age and soon left impoverished by a negligent guardian. He entered Oxford unable to afford even a gown or a fire in winter. Nevertheless, he did very well in his studies and was eventually able to go on to further study at the University of Paris and at Bologna.

Richard returned to England as a small-town parson. His fame as a counselor and preacher soon spread far and wide. Against the wishes of King Henry III, Richard was consecrated Bishop of Chichester. In response, the king denied him access to the cathedral, so Richard spent two years wandering barefoot through his diocese, living very simply on the charity of his flock.

When the quarrel with the king was finally settled and Richard was given access to the cathedral and bishop's residence, he lived there almost as a beggar, wearing a hair shirt, fasting often, and sleeping on the floor. Nevertheless, he was an efficient administrator and a stern disciplinarian when the occasion called for it. He entertained the poor, however, lavishly and ultimately willed his episcopal estate to the poor, to hospitals, and to widows and orphans.

The words of hymn 654 in The Hymnal 1982 are attributed to him, “Day by day, dear Lord, of thee three things I pray: to see thee more clearly, love thee more dearly, follow thee more nearly, day by day.”  (From "Holy Men, Holy Women.")

Another example is Aidan of Lindisfarne in the 7th century. He was a bishop and steadfast defender of Celtic Christian practices. King Oswald of Northumbria once gave him a horse and a cart for his journeys after learning he usually traveled on foot. Soon after, Aidan met a beggar and gave him both the horse and cart. This upset the king, yet Aidan was able to convince him that this was the correct thing for a Christian to do.

In the tradition of Christian Orthodoxy, the bishop is to be both servant to his people, father to his flock, and is to represents Christ in the midst of his diocese. Therefore, he must be compassionate, humble, kindhearted and available to his people. He must be humble, lest he fall into the trap of seeing this sacred office as his divine right to lord over those under him.

Orthodoxy does not have Lord bishops [prince prelates as bishops], but monks who are consecrated to serve as pastors and fathers to their people. The western medieval imagery of Lord bishops has never had a place in Orthodoxy, and their best bishops have been men of holiness, humility and simplicity. (For more see Monkrock.)

With the recent election of the Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio of Buenos Aires of head of the Roman Catholic Church and his taking of the name "Francis" (after the 13th century saint by that name) I have heard and read that many of my Catholic friends have an expectation that this pope will be more of a servant leader to the Church. This of course will not be easy. But there are some strong signs that Francis intends to be different. For example, after his election the word "bishop" crossed his lips more than "pope" or "pontiff" and he referred to himself first as the bishop of Rome and to the former pope not as a retired pope but emeritus bishop. And there was something genuine about the way he referred to our journey of faith as one that we take together in love and trust. When he asked for help from those assembled that day in Rome, he asked for help from those assembled, bowed his head, and received prayer from those assembled. (For more click here.)

I have a personal story about a humble religious leader that goes back to my days on the International Peace Council in the 90s. It was when I participated in a peace march in Cambodia and met and walked with the man who was the leader of Cambodian Buddhism, the late Maha Ghosananda. To me, this man was almost Christ-like in his humility, love and forgiveness to the Khmer Rouge who had exterminated his family in their reign of genocide. One evening, he even offered me his bed and would have gladly slept on the floor of the temple in which we were staying. He literally exuded love, patience and humility.

There is a strong tradition within the Christian Church and most of the enduring religions of the world to try to raise up humble and servant leaders. Frequently they fail. Yet when a true servant leader emerges, it is truly like the breath of God!

Wouldn't it be nice (and even edifying) if our religious leaders acted more like servants than princes?