The Wisdom of Humility

Yesterday, I finally cleared away the pile of paper that had been slowly growing more and more mountainous on my side desk. It’s still cold here in Michigan, but being home for “spring” break gives me a moment to face up to all that has accumulated so far this semester. That and I’m home in the daytime to see everything else that needs dusting and cleaning and general attending to.

That sounds a lot like Lent to me. Time to get down to the essentials. Prepare for resurrection.

Last Christmas, much of my time at my father’s house was spent sorting through and beginning to clear out 40 years of living in one place. Though the job is still far from done, my siblings and I went room by room, determining who would like what. It was funny, though: at the beginning of our time together, we’d all express interest and enthusiasm for lots of things–might even negotiate with each other for something. By the end, if someone showed the slightest interest, we were eager to give it to them: we all had come to understand how there was just too much to take. We realized we only had room for a very few items, and we really wanted each other to have nice things, too. We actually laughed by the end at how all wrangling had ceased.

Still, we humans do like a wrangle. Working at an academic institution with very smart people means also working with lots of ego and anxiety and self-aggrandizement and insecurities (and that includes my own). All detritus that needs Lenten attention. Maybe that’s why a recent posting on Twitter that introduced me to the Litany of Humility got my attention. Usually attributed to Rafael Cardinal Merry del Val y Zulueta in the early 20th century, the traditional litany groups lists of desires, then fears, and finally requests to help us name and embrace humility.

But the Twitter posting instead shared a revised version of the litany by Joel Stepanek, from his book Chasing Humility. In it, Stepanek pairs desires and fears together–a rhetorical move that beautifully heightens their connection, the way they are often two sides of the same coin. He also provides a header to help understand the connection even more fully.

In the Four Quartets, T.S. Eliot claims: “The only wisdom we can hope to acquire/Is the wisdom of humility. Humility is endless.” After years as a professor, this rings true: every year, I realize that I know less than I did the year before. Life is complicated, explanations limited. What I do know is that I don’t. Though humility has often been badly taught as a weapon of oppression, rightly understood, humility is usually a painful re-centering. Praying this litany–and striving to actually mean it–was difficult. And that told me that it was probably exactly the Lenten challenge I need. Perhaps it will help you as well.

Being Authentic
	From the desire of being esteemed,
		Deliver me, Jesus.
	From the fear of being wronged,
		Deliver me, Jesus.
	That I may become as holy as I should,
		Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. 

Growing Confidence
	From the desire of being preferred to others,
		Deliver me, Jesus.
	From the fear of being humiliated,
		Deliver me, Jesus.
	That others may be esteemed more than I,
		Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

Being Grateful for Today
	From the desire of being honored,
		Deliver me, Jesus.
	From the fear of being calumniated, 
		Deliver me, Jesus.
	That, in the opinion of the world, others may increase
		and I may decrease,
		Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. 

Loving Others
	From the desire of being loved,
		Deliver me, Jesus.
	From the fear of being despised,
		Deliver me, Jesus.
	That others may be loved more than I,
		Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. 

Giving Praise
	From the desire of being praised,
		Deliver me, Jesus.
	From the fear of suffering rebukes,
		Deliver me, Jesus.
	That others may be praised and I unnoticed,
		Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. 

Empowering Those Around Me
	From the desire of being extolled,
		Deliver me, Jesus.
	From the fear of being forgotten,
		Deliver me, Jesus.
	That others may be preferred to me in everything,
		Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. 

Becoming the Mentor
	From the desire of being consulted,
		Deliver me, Jesus.
	From the fear of being suspected,
		Deliver me, Jesus.
	That others may be chosen and I set aside,
		Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. 

Breaking Boundaries
	From the desire of being approved,
		Deliver me, Jesus.
	From the fear of being ridiculed,
		Deliver me, Jesus.
	That others may become holier than I,
		Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. 
  

Photo by Jesus Hilario H. on Unsplash.