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| Jean Vanier with a friend from the l'Arche community |
“The only wisdom is
the wisdom of humility. Humility is endless.” (T.S. Eliot)
It’s a virtue
unpopular with the young, who confuse it with humiliation or with an
inferiority complex. As Paul Vallely wrote, à propos of Pope Francis, one tends
to think that humility is a character trait – some have it, some don’t – when
in fact it is a proper virtue, fostered by hard work. Like hope, it’s a virtue
of the everyday, growing amid the humdrumlies of simple living and taking care
of business. It both helps and is helped by looking at people around us and
imagining their unknown private battles.
If Pride is the chief of the Deadly Sins, should Humility be the chief
of virtues? The French have two words for “pride”: orgueil, which is the big bad Pride that looks contemptuously down
on the world and everyone in it, and fierté,
which is the good pride you take in the achievement of your offspring, and also
the pride which, as Dryden’s Cleopatra observes, can be “all that held [you]
up” when life gets rough. Given that pride can be complex, what about Humility?
Luckily most Western languages have two words for “humility” and “humiliation”;
one could say that the first is the opposite of orgueil and the second of fierté.
And keeping Pride in mind when we think about all this will help us avoid the
trap of thinking that a humble person thinks he’s nothing much. Well, compared
to God, sure; but a genuinely humble person is probably quite a solid realist,
who doesn’t think very much about his own level of whatever at all, but gets on
with what needs doing and thinks of other people.
Humility also allows one to look back on one’s own life – by the day,
month, year or lustrum – and recognize clearly the times when one has been a
pig, a shit, or simply inadequate. Not in order to mull that over and over, but
to face it without illusion and get on with being less of all three. Which, in
turn, the humble person understands, involves going beyond our stone-dumb self
and invoking the help of Him Who is always ready to lend a hand. In other
words, prayer. No true humility without prayer. No true humility like the
Cross.
True humility also allows for fierté,
especially if it doesn’t last long enough to become one’s habitat.
One of the most positive things humility can do is help those who suffer
from its poisonous parody: humiliation. If you look at the world around you,
from children through adults to groups to whole nations, it’s easy to see how
much of the world’s misery comes from humiliation. Humiliation is both an
action and a feeling. The feeling can result from situations not intended to
humiliate, in which case it expresses deep insecurity and an inferiority
complex. What humility can do in such cases is be ultra-sensitive to words and
actions that might cause humiliation in others. Pride, on the other hand, might
say “Well, dammit, he/they shouldn’t be so bloody touchy: they’ve only themselves
to thank.” Humility is good at seeing the hidden wounds. And seeing the
innocence of others, however deeply hidden that may be; and appreciating that
innocence, and other virtues, out loud.
No, it’s not just a trait of character that “some have and some haven’t,
and that’s the way it is.” It’s looking at others, and talking to them, and
looking at God, and talking to Him. Oh, and listening, in both cases . . . . .
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