Scantily clad if clothed in humility

1 03 2015

Given the finite condition of man and his checkered history, one might think that humility, a human virtue of such evident appropriateness, would be easy to appropriate. It should be the first lesson we learn from self-reflection! Nonetheless, despite how well-tailored humility is to suit men, its correlative vice — pride — is what they are more likely to display. Rather than bow to reality and accept themselves as they are, men are far more likely to cherish illusions and pretend to be what they are not. As one pundit remarked, “Many would be scantily clad if clothed in humility.”

The humble person makes a realistic assessment of who he is and puts that unillusioned judgment into practice. He does not judge himself to be smaller or larger than he really is. In so doing he avoids despair as well as pride. Consequently, the humble person enjoys the freedom to be who he is. He is not troubled by accidentals, such as reputation, self-interest, or failure. He takes joy in the importance or excellence of what is done rather than in the incidental fact that he happened to be the one who did it. As for illusions, which often consume huge amounts of time and energy, he has none to defend. He is not troubled by feeling obliged to defend an imaginary self to people who do not know who he really is. Nor does he expect others to be who they are not. He has no concern for trading in unrealities. He is not a candidate for being victimized by self-pity. He is not likely to be saddened by not being who he cannot be. Because of the priceless freedom to be who a person truly is, Thomas Merton can say that “the beginning of humility is the beginning of blessedness and the consummation of humility is the perfection of all joy.[5] For Confucius, “Humility is the solid foundation of all the virtues.”

The great mathematician-physicist Albert Einstein confessed that he was troubled by the adulation he received. He felt it was grossly disproportionate to his own more humble and realistic estimate of himself. “There are plenty of the well-endowed, thank God”, wrote the author of the theory of relativity. “It strikes me as unfair, and even in bad taste, to select a few of them for boundless admiration, attributing superhuman powers of mind and character to them. This has been my fate, and the contrast between the popular estimate of my powers and achievements and the reality is simply grotesque.”

A philosopher, who understood the fundamental importance of humility in the broad scheme of things, was once asked what the great God was doing. He replied: “His whole employment is to lift up the humble and cast down the proud.” Since humility is fruitful and pride self-destructive, such an employment would be perfectly consistent with God’s love for his creatures.

Jascha Heifetz and Mischa Elman, both preeminent violinists, were dining together in a restaurant when a waiter presented them with an envelope addressed to “the World’s Greatest Violinist”. Since the two were good friends and held each other’s artistry in the highest esteem, neither wanted to assume the letter was addressed to himself. When Heifetz begged Elman to open the envelope, the latter bowed and deferred to the former. When Elman insisted the letter must be for his companion, Heifetz, likewise demurred to his partner. Finally, Elman’s persistence was persuasive, and Heifetz reluctantly opened the letter and read the salutation: “Dear Fritz” (their illustrious colleague Fritz Kreisler).[6]

It is easy to imagine the two violinists being humbled by the incident. By contrast, Socrates interpreted the oracle’s statement, “No man is wiser than Socrates”, with rare humility. The “gadfly” of Athens correctly took it to mean that no man is wise. “Humility”, as Cardinal Newman once explained, “is one of the most difficult of virtues both to attain and to ascertain. It lies close upon the heart itself, and its tests are exceedingly delicate and subtle.”[7]

Among philosophers, Socrates is perhaps best associated with the virtue of humility. Because he knew he did not possess wisdom, he was constantly in pursuit of it. Hence, his life-long search for a master-teacher. Yet his humility proved to be a great asset inasmuch as it freed him from the distorting influence of pride. He saw the human condition with exceptional clarity, so much so that he earned the distinction of being the “Father of Moral Philosophy”.

“Humility”, states Henry David Thoreau, “like darkness reveals the heavenly lights.”[8] All genuine appreciation of things requires seeing them against a boundary of nonexistence. From the perspective of nonbeing, all light seems lightning, every sensation becomes sensational, and each phenomenon appears to be phenomenal. The attitude of humility, because it expects nothing, is ready to appreciate everything. The person who empties himself is best prepared to fill himself with the wonders of the universe. As G.K. Chesterton has pointed out, “It is one of the million wild jests of truth that we know nothing until we know nothing.”[9]

On a more theological level, Saint Augustine maintains that humility is the first, second, and third most important factor in religion. It is, in his judgment, the foundation of all other virtues. Consequently, there can be no virtue in the soul in which humility is lacking, only the appearance of virtue.

Even the devil may clothe himself in the appearance of virtue. When Saint Macarius once returned to his cell, he met the devil, who tried to cut him in half with a sickle. The devil failed in repeated attempts, because when he drew near the saint, he lost his energy. Then, full of anger, he said: “I suffer great violence from you, Macarius, because though I greatly desire to harm you, I cannot. I do all that you do and more. You fast once in a while, I never eat. You sleep little, I never close my eyes. You are chaste, and so am I. In one thing only do you surpass me.” “And what is this thing?” asked Macarius. He answered: “It is your great humility.” And with that, the devil disappeared.[10]

Canadian artist Michael O’Brien dedicated a year of his work to illustrating the fifteen mysteries of the Rosary. When he came to the “Assumption of Mary into Heaven”, he found himself devoid of any inner suggestion as to how he might depict this particular mystery. In fact, he was so barren of artistic ideas that he even thought of omitting it from the series. It was at that time that he happened to read a passage in Thomas Aquinas that stated that God sends an angel to assist people in completing a work that glorifies God. Encouraged by this passage, O’Brien prayed for an assisting angel. Then it all came to him. He suddenly knew, without any accompanying emotion, exactly what colors, shapes, figures, and design he must use in executing the painting. As he himself readily admits, “What was to have been my most difficult painting was the easiest one I ever painted in my life.”[11] The painting is actually the most captivating of the series and adorns the cover of the published edition of these illustrated mysteries.[12]

Humility is the mother of many virtues, because from it knowledge, realism, honesty, strength, and dedication are born. “Humility, that low, sweet root,” writes the poet Thomas Moore, “From which all heavenly virtues shoot.”[13]
THE AUTHOR

Donald DeMarco is adjunct professor at Holy Apostles College & Seminary in Cromwell, Connecticut and Professor Emeritus at St. Jerome’s University in Waterloo Ontario. He also continues to work as a corresponding member of the Pontifical Acadmy for Life. Donald DeMarco has written hundreds of articles for various scholarly and popular journals, and is the author of twenty books, including The Heart of Virtue, The Many Faces of Virtue, Virtue’s Alphabet: From Amiability to Zeal and Architects Of The Culture Of Death. Donald DeMarco is on the Advisory Board of The Catholic Education Resource Center.