Have Your Pie and Eat It Too

I read in a book the other day* about a celebrity who told an editor, "I just want to be an actor!" "No," the editor corrected. "You want to be famous."

Add that to a collection of thoughts and stories swirling through my head recently about what it means to be humble. A sampling:

I read in a book the other day* about a celebrity who told an editor, "I just want to be an actor!" "No," the editor corrected. "You want to be famous."

Add that to a collection of thoughts and stories swirling through my head recently about what it means to be humble. A sampling:

If Moses wrote the Penteteuch, and assuming he wrote the whole Penteteuch, that would mean he penned the words, "Now the man Moses was very humble, more so than any man on the face of the earth" (Numbers 12:3, NET). Does saying that take you out of contention for being the world’s humblest man?

How about the story Matthew tells us of the encounter between Jesus and John’s disciples (Matthew 11)? John’s disciples came to Jesus with some questions from John (at the time, John was in prison for preparing the way and we happen to know about to lose his head over the matter). Jesus answered the questions and then waited–he waited–until after the disciples left to turn to the crowd and brag about John. What, Jesus couldn’t give John this one little thing? After all John had done? 

Then there was the conversation with a friend. She’d blogged about her experience at a writer’s conference she’d attended. I pushed to know more, though. What did you learn? I asked. She replied, "I’m learning to trust my own ability, that I’m not as bad as I think I am." She quickly added, "But that sounds conceited, and I wouldn’t ever put that out in public." (So I’m doing it for her!)

Why, that’s not conceited, I told her. That’s a recognition of the gift God gave you and the hard work you’ve done to hone it.

The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines humble as "not proud or haughty : not arrogant or assertive" or "ranking low in a hierarchy or scale." "Insignificant," Merriam-Webster says.**

Hardly seems like a helpful definition.

Often, in order to be humble, we end up floundering somewhere in "I’m no good at that" land or "but so-and-so’s much better" waters. We deny compliments. Thank yous embarrass us. We may even refuse to perform a task because to do so, well, wouldn’t that assume I can do that, and that’s just conceited thinking.

The truth is, in our attempts to not think of ourselves more highly than we ought, we focus too much on ourselves. It’s still a competition, a comparison. I’m not supposed to think of myself more highly than Mr. Jones, we think, so I’ll think of myself more lowly (and secretly hope someone else notices both that we really are better than Mr. Jones and that we’re humble enough to not think so).

We neglect our God-given gifts because we don’t want to look like we’re showing off. It’s pride turned upside down and flipped inside out. It’s still thinking about me and how others perceive me.

So what does it mean to be humble? What does it mean to hone your gifts, to strive for both excellence and insignificance***?

*Fine print: The book is Deliver Us from Me-Ville by David A. Zimmerman.

**Fine print, part 2: If you need a laugh this Friday, hop on over here to see my story behind Merriam-Webster (or Merriam and Webster).

***Fine print, part "Oh, for heaven’s sakes, is she still typing?": I write (humby, of course) out of personal struggle with this issue. I may know the right answers or what to tell you or what sounds good (read: what’ll get me a pat on the back), but I still don’t know. You can read more about my struggle here.