There
are two parts to the Gospel for this Sunday and they both seem unrelated. The
first part is found also in Luke's Gospel. The similarity would suggest that
both Evangelists drew inspiration from a common source of material. This part
is sometimes called a synoptic thunderbolt from the Johannine sky because the
narrative style is atypical of the Evangelists. It is rather evocative of the
long discourses found in the Fourth Gospel.
The
second part is definitely Matthean--and its connexion to the first reading
provides us with the theme of humility. Humility is defined as an ordered
virtue that prevents a person from either over-reaching or under-valuing
himself. It is opposed to pride as well as to an immoderate abnegation of self
to the point that one does not acknowledge God's gifts and to use them
accordingly for His greater glory.
In
a narcissistic culture that esteems self-idolatry, what place does humility
have in Christian spirituality? Not only is our culture narcissistic but it is
also one that prizes independence and the virtues of self-reliance and freedom.
Thus, the yoke that Jesus proposes finds no place in such a culture. It runs
against a convention that views dependency as weakness or subservience. The
heroic virtues associated with sanctity does not rhyme with Romanticism's
unique individual who grapples alone with whatever curve balls life throws at
it. He is a self-sufficient hero with the strength of character to go against
the flow as personified by mavericks like Macgyver or Indiana Jones. How is
humility to be conceived in such characters? For them, humility is almost like
an attribute that one possesses. Hence, for the self-made man, to be called
"humble' certainly looks good on one's resumé.
But,
if humility is considered a moral virtue, then it is substantially an
expression of a relationship. In other words, humility is relational. At the
beginning, I mentioned the apparent unrelatedness between the two parts of the
Gospel. Actually, the so-called Johannine Discourse reveals a deep affection
that exists between Jesus and His Father. It is an intense intimacy that we
have been invited to. It is within this familiarity that humility makes sense.
The yoke is therefore a potent symbol of knowledge rather than a shameful sign
of slavery. Otherwise, emptied of its relational content, humility can only
appear as a caricature of what it is not supposed to be--a kind of pusillanimity
or rather a timidity of spirit. And if it were merely an attribute, then it
describes someone who is pretty much congenial.
How
do we preach humility in a go-getter society without it coming across as
pusillanimous? If humility is relational, then it is also a virtue for heaven.
When God is not in our picture, we will always be afraid that we might lose
out. For example, the need to "justify" oneself. Here, the reference
is not to the notion of justification and salvation but rather the need to explain
oneself. Our fear has conflated both misunderstanding with loss in the sense
that to be misunderstood signals a certain loss. Thus, I want my superiors or
bosses to understand me. We all inhabit a wounded world holding on to the myth
that our stories are not complete unless they are told. Is it any wonder why we
need to have biopics or docudramas and our ever present eulogies delivered at
Masses?
But,
how about letting the Lord complete our stories, not here but in heaven?
Humility
is a relationship with heaven. Saint Augustine termed it a fundamental virtue.
So, when we describe a person as humble, it may come across as if it were a
virtue possessed. The thing is, we do not "possess" it. When we
consider the disparate parts of the Gospel, that is, the Johannine discourse
and the invitation to bear the yoke of a humble Jesus, then we realise that
humility is less an attribute possessed and more a relationship entered into.
To
be humble requires that one has a relationship with both the Lord and heaven we
are destined for. A recognition that one can afford not to fight not because of
fear but because there is confidence in the Lord and that a loss here on earth
of prestige, honour and power is never a loss in absolute terms. According to
Saint Teresa of Avila, humility is truth. If it is truth about who I am, then
humility is also truth about who God is. He is the only one who will never betray
our trust in Him. Saint John Vianney counsels that one should pray for the
grace to know that we are nothing of ourselves, and that our corporal as well
as our spiritual welfare proceeds from God alone. Hence, without humility being
a relational virtue, it will become be a parody of what it is supposed to be.
C.S.
Lewis reminds us: Humility is not thinking less of yourself but
thinking of yourself less. God can be trusted to think of us more than
we can ever that it is possible to think oneself less. Thus, humility is not so
much a "quality" that one possesses but a relationship that one
enters into. It is within this familiarity that saintly counsels make sense:
"O Master, grant that I may never seek, so much to be consoled as to
console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love with all my
soul" or "Teach me to serve You as You deserve, to give
and not to count the cost, to fight and not to heed the wounds, to toil and not
to seek for rest, to labour and not to seek for reward, save that of knowing
that I do Your will".