Humility

If you are a person who observes Lent, you may be concentrating on what you chose to give up. That’s fine, we all have habits that need modified, but the problem is that we often put a sunset on the changes, or look for loopholes.

Sundays are feast days so I can have chocolate then, and I’ll make a chocolate cake for Easter dinner.” “Sally made this dessert just for me; she knows how I love chocolate. If I don’t eat some, her feelings will be hurt.” And so on.

What if the focus were put on service to others, rather than something about ourselves? You might commit to helping out at an organization that benefits the community. Make supper on week nights because your wife gets off work later than you do. Anything that’s done for others, in a spirit of love and humility. And with an eye toward the long term, not just a time out so you can feel good about yourself. Remember, this exercise isn’t about you, except in the concept of becoming a more thoughtful and caring person.

Humility isn’t a word most of us love to hear because we think of it as demeaning our character and diminishing our worth. Actually, it’s just having confidence in the gifts and abilities we have to offer, and using them in ways that don’t put our name up in lights. One of my friends has a precious memory of her husband, who is now deceased. Jamie had traveled across several states for several months, to support her mother’s battle with cancer. By the end of that journey, my friend was exhausted, physically and emotionally, to the point of not even being able to decide what to wear to the funeral. Jamie’s husband quietly went about polishing her shoes. She never recalls that gesture of love without crying.

Some churches will have a ceremony of foot washing during Holy Week. Jesus washed his disciples’ feet, and we are instructed to do the same, whether literally or in some act of loving humility, such as polishing shoes. Think about the reality of Jesus’ example. People wore sandals in that place and time and their feet would have been dirty. Jesus and his companions walked everywhere; surely their feet were sore and tired, maybe even had blisters. If you have a job as a checkout person, nurse, waitress, or some other occupation that keeps you on your feet all day, you know how good it feels to kick off your shoes at night and put your feet in a basin of warm water. If someone offered to bathe your feet and rub them with lotion, would you let them? Or would you be ashamed of the bunions and calluses and turn down the offer? Maybe the gift you could give to the person who wants to comfort you would simply be allowing them to serve. This deal works both ways. Let’s spend some time this Lent pondering on that.

Meet me here next week and meanwhile do your best. Somebody might like it.