This Lent I am reading and practicing some of the exercises in Jane Tomaine’s book St. Benedict’s Toolbox: The Nuts and Bolts of Everyday Benedictine Living. Benedict was a fifth-century monk who founded the Benedictines, a Roman Catholic order that still thrives today. He wrote what he called “the little rule,” a manual to help his fellow monks live a spiritual life in community.
I figured this week’s theme, obedience, would be a piece of cake. After all, I’m a rule-follower, always have been. As a teenager I never once broke my curfew. I always did my homework and got good grades. Even today, I write prompt thank you notes, visit the dentist twice annually and get my oil changed at 3,000 miles. I’m the quintessential annoying good girl, so I figured I could nail Benedictine obedience, if nothing else.
I should have known Benedict’s take on obedience would require more than simple rule following.
According to the Benedictines, humility is at the center of obedience. “The reason humility and obedience are linked,” explains Tomaine, “is that we cannot listen or respond if we believe that our way is the only way.” Humility, in a nutshell, is placing God first, often by placing others before ourselves.
Because Benedict knew practicing humility would challenge his monks, he broke the concept down into twelve steps, one of which is this:
To believe in your heart that others are better than you.
Did Benedict mean we should believe everyone is better than ourselves, or just some people, I wondered. What about the people I don’t like very much, for instance? Or the person who’s spending a life sentence in prison? That person is better? Or the person whose lifestyle choices are markedly different than mine? Or the person I simply think is wrong.
This is what makes humility and obedience so tough. Benedict did mean everyone – not just the saints and the heroes. Not just the people who think like us and believe the same things we do. He meant even the annoying people. The people who have wronged us. The ones with whom we disagree.
I have a confession. While I was writing this column, I shot off a curt email to my dad. He had done something that had irritated me, and I wanted him to know that I disapproved. Frankly, I wanted him to know that he was wrong and I was right. Several hours after I’d hit “send,” in the midst of writing this column, I realized that I had demonstrated a distinct lack of humility with my dad. I could have said what needed to be said with grace rather than condemnation. I could have chosen humility over arrogance. I could have chosen my dad’s feelings over my own need to be right.
Benedict may intended his rules for his fellow fifth-century monks. But today, it seems his advice on obedience and humility was meant especially for me.
Have you ever learned a real-life lesson in humility?
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I’ve recently revisited a series I wrote three years ago called Blogging Benedict, and I’ve decided to run some of these posts on Fridays through Lent. They are based on the book by Jane Tomaine called St. Benedict’s Toolbox: The Nuts and Bolts of Everyday Living, which I am re-reading this Lent.
This story ran last Saturday in the Lincoln Journal Star.
This is a tough one. I do think people get confused with the word “better” as we understand it in our language. We tend to think of “better” as encompassing things like “smarter” “better at making decisions” etc That is why it is hard to understand how the criminal sitting in jail can be “better” than us, law abiding people. But the original Greek word found in Philippians 2:3 (where the idea of considering others as better than yourself) literally means “more important” or “of superior rank.” The idea is to consider others as more important than you. So in your example, your dad’s feelings are to be more important than your right or desire to be proven right over him. This is one of the toughest verses for me because we humans are so naturally selfish, aren’t we? I am really enjoying your Benedict blogging.
You are so right, Gaby, the word “better” in this does confuse people. One reader of this post when it ran last week in the Journal Star commented that it was unhealthy to compare ourselves to others and always feel like we come up short. He seemed to have missed the point entirely, as I was writing about thinking of others as better not as a comparison, but as a selfless putting others first. Could be, though, that I didn’t make my point very well, and thus his misunderstanding!
Thank you for this…and yes…i learn….over and over again…God has used books like Andrew murray’s Humility and Matthew Henry’s “The quest for meekness and quietness of spirit.” I had to soak in that book…letting is soften the hard places in my heart. I am reading alongside my Dad, a Catholic Devotion…Divine Intimacy…this week…the theme…humility. Here is a quote…”True humility, however deep it may be, neither disquiets, nor trouble nor disturbs the soul; it is accompanied by peace, joy and tranquility….It enlarges it, and makes it fit to serve God better…on the other hand, false humility only disturbs and upsets the mind and troubles the soul, so grievous is it. I think the devil is anxious for us to believe that we are humble and, if he can, he will lead us to distrust God.”
I love that quote about true humility, Ro. And I can see how it applies to my own personal situation here. After God made it very clear that I was not practicing humility with my dad, I sent him a follow-up email apologizing and asking for forgiveness for my harsh words. Then I called my mom and warned her that dad was going to find an unpleasant email in his in-box when he got home (believe it or not, he was on a mission trip in Haiti when i sent the email — could my timing have been more inappropriate?!). Anyway, after she warned him, he opened his in-box and deleted the emails without even reading them – a beautiful display of humility on his part, too.
I am so blessed. God gives me opportunities to learn humility every day–often several chances each day.
😉
Isn’t that the truth, Sheila?! I was reading a book by Richard Rohr recently, and he said his daily prayer is that God would humble him in his daily life. Quite a courageous prayer, if you as me.
So glad I have a sister, that can identify! Love this post, Michelle
Thanks, Diane – wishing you a happy (and humble) weekend, dear friend.
I have learned many real-life lessons in humility, and I am in the remedial class where apparently I need to keep learning that lesson.
I once saw a car with a vanity plate that read HUMBLE.
It IS a lesson we need to relearn again and again, because as human beings, must of us are prone to arrogance and pride (some of us more than others, a hem…that would be me).
I like the idea of that license plate, especially because it reminds the drive behind to be humble and non-judgmental, even when the driver ahead makes a stupid mistake!
This is excellent, Michelle! Obviously I need to get me a copy of this book! Your post is getting filed into my archives for future reference. The linking of humility…and obedience? What a concept! Never put those two together before. You have enlightened me today.
Have I ever had a real-life-lesson in humility??? Oh yeah. Sending email to friends is a wonderful and fun way to communicate…but it can be used in vicious, non-flattering ways as well. Just like you and your Dad, about 6 months ago I blasted my best friend, both barrels blazing, over HER lack of ‘Christian conduct’ when I felt she should be well past the stage she’s at. She comes from a lifetime of Jehovah’s Witness indoctrination, which I confess I have little patience for. I have trouble putting myself in her shoes, understanding her refusal to bow down to what she sees as “organized religion”. I hurt her badly. I nearly lost her friendship. I am ashamed of myself. I never should have done what I did. I have apologized, repeatedly, and vowed I will speak no more of this with her. I am not Holy Spirit in her life story. I had no right. I make no excuses for my detestable behaviour. I pray I’ve learned my lesson. Thank you for this gentle reminder today.
Oh Jillie, I know, I know. Why do we hurt the people we love so much? Forgive yourself, my friend, forgive yourself. I know it’s hard. The whole week my dad was away, before he read the email, I died inside – I was ashamed and guilty and mad at myself. But we have to forgive ourselves as part of the learning process.
Ok one more book for my amazon wish list. Good thing my birthday is in a few weeks and I know at least one daughter will order from it.
Humility is a tough issue. I may have a new opportunity coming up and found in my prayers, asking more to be a servant than to get the ‘job” If I do take the position I pray for strength to maintain that attitude and not be power crazy or me-oriented. difficult balance…
good thoughts, Michelle.