63. “I Thought I Had Won”: On Humility

This is the one I esteem: he who is humble and contrite in spirit, and trembles at my word” [Isaiah 66:2b].

       

[L] Humility, from humblepiety blogspot. [2] Michelangelo, The Flood, in the Sistine Chapel.

In The Sacred Heart for Lent, Thomas D. Williams writes of the sweet yoke of humility: “Humility is a funny virtue because we love it in others but have a hard time practicing it ourselves. We like to be appreciated. We like to be right.”

It is the human lot to make mistakes. Successful people in every walk of life know, as James Joyce does, that “mistakes are the portals of discovery.” We all can resonate with Oprah Winfrey whose life experience brings her to the insight that our “mistakes do not define who we are”, for it is an essence in human existence that “we are our possibilities”. People in commerce and industry are not so much concerned with making mistakes, as with lessons not learned. Andrew V. Mason takes it a step further and offers a pointed advice that is potentially career-saving: “Admit your errors before someone else exaggerates them.”

Humility is somehow entwined in all this. Perhaps we should start from the very top, from God, and see if Scriptures say he makes mistakes and if he does, what Scriptures say God does afterwards.

Does God Make Mistakes?”

“Does God make mistakes?” is a dangerous question to try and answer.

One can employ different lenses to qualify God’s regret for having made the human race on this earth. Or, one can just accept a literal reading of Scripture and be shocked by the chilling reality that pursuant to that regret, God said, “I will blot out man whom I have created from the face of the ground” (Genesis 6:6-7). In the event, God did send forth a great flood that annihilated the whole earth of everything with the breath of life in its nostrils, except Noah and his family of humans and beasts. This was before the concept of “for the sake of one good man, God would spare the town from total annihilation”. But, Scripture at this point does say definitively that upon smelling the appeasing fragrance of the burnt offerings made by Noah on the altar, God relented and said in his heart, “Never again will I destroy every living creature as I have done” (Genesis 7:22). Do we see right here in Scripture the author of Genesis (or better, the compilers of ancient oral traditions) suggesting that God regretted making two great mistakes: one in creating humans, and the other in destroying all living things on earth?

Regret, it seems, is the opposite of pleasurable satisfaction and rejoicing – “God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good” (Genesis 1:31). Furthermore, Noah had found favour in the eyes of the Lord (Genesis 6:8). So God did not regret a terrible mistake in creating the human race in the first place, or he would have wiped out all humankind. His regret applied only to the wicked Pre-Flood generation whose conduct had become so evil that God was obliged to destroy all humankind with the exception of Noah and his family. Through the prophet Ezekiel, God made it known that he “takes no delight in the death of the wicked”, but that he wants to see they turn from their evil ways (Ezekiel 33:11).

 The Higher the Position, the More Difficult It Is to Admit Mistakes?

It was John Emerich Edward Dalberg Acton, first Baron Acton (1834-1902), a historian and moralist better known simply as Lord Acton who, while expressing his opinion in a letter to Bishop Mandell Creighton in 1887, wrote:

  • “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men.”

It is not altogether surprising that the American political system is grounded in a fundamental distrust of the ones who govern. This explains the spirit behind the First Constitutional Amendment on the freedom of speech. Accepting the truth that power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely, the Americans cannot possibly not have the freedom to scrutinize and criticize those in authority.

Have you ever heard of someone, man or woman, who holds a position of power and authority, humbly admitting to making a mistake? To be sure, when he or she does admit to making a mistake, that admission may, in fact, be made in humility, or merely in regret over losing something or missing out on something, or in remorse for having caused others some grievous hurt, or a combination of any of these sentiments. If you think error-admissions from high places are rare, then perhaps Lord Acton helps in pointing us to the corrosive nature of power that renders men and women incapable of error-admission, much less to feel guilty. Is he revealing the inevitable consequences of a cultural conditioning endemic in corporate and hierarchical set-ups? Are tenants of power-vested-offices, then, at a greater risk level of actually becoming morally indigent?

The problem, it seems, is the universal truth that high positions often are much more prone to breed arrogance than humility. They create the space where a culture of invincibility allows humility to seep through but only rarely. Rare though they are, however, when they do seep through, these stories of humility make for marvelous wonder and admiration. Ironically, those who do humbly admit to making mistakes do not have their esteem eclipsed in the eyes of others. Instead, they tend to be held in higher esteem than before.

Singapore Prime Minister Admitting He Was Wrong?

On the demise of Dr Toh Chin Chye, a reputable member of the founding group that created today’s Singapore, Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong wrote a letter of condolence to the bereaved family.  He reminisced on many important events in the history of Singapore over the last few decades, but one particular admission caught our attention. In a heated parliamentary debate over the 1985 Budget, Dr Toh made a passionate speech criticizing the CPF contribution. He insisted that the rate of 50% of the employee’s salary was too high, judging it to be an excessive burden on both employers and employees. As a young and new minister of state in the Ministry of Trade and Industry, Lee rebutted Toh vigorously. “I thought I had won,” Lee said. But, he now openly admits, Toh turned out to be right. The economy soon plummeted into a steep recession, and by the end of the year the government, now compelled to conclude that the CPF rate was way too high, slashed it down from 50% to 35%. It is quite refreshing, to say the least, to read of a prime minister of Singapore admitting to making a mistake, especially after a high-profiled and heated debate which he proudly thought he had won.

The Humility of a Bishop Touches an Audience

Bishop Luis Antonio Tagle of Ilmus [popularly known by his nick name Bishop Chito, and recently installed as the Archbishop of Manila] is known as much for his intellectual brilliance as for his spiritual humility. Stories about him abound, but a little, seemingly insignificant, incident speaks hugely about the humility of this churchman at a time when the reputation of Catholic bishops worldwide is generally marred by an impression of insensitivity, arrogance and intransigence.

At the 49th International Eucharistic Congress held in Quebec in June 2008, Bishop Tagle delivered a lecture and, as usual, won him high acclaim. In that lecture, he told a touching story.

  • I remember an experience in the market of our town of Imus, the seat of our diocese. One Saturday morning I went to monitor the prices of goods and the condition of the simple market vendors. I saw a woman selling fruit and vegetables in a corner. She was one of those who went to Sunday Mass regularly. It was only 10 o’clock in the morning but she was already closing her store. So I asked her the reason. She told me, “I belong to a prayer group. We have a big assembly this afternoon. Some tasks were assigned to me. So I want to be there early.” Upon hearing this, the pragmatic side of me surfaced. I responded, “The Lord will understand if you extend your working hours. You have a family to support. You can benefit from additional income. I am sure the Lord will understand.” With a smile, she said, “But Bishop, the Lord has been faithful to me. The Lord has always been there for us. We may not be rich but we have enough to live by. Why will I fear?” Then looking at me tenderly, she said, “Are you not a Bishop? Are you not supposed to be encouraging me in faith?” I was quite embarrassed. But for me it was an experience of spiritual worship. I, the religiously and culturally accepted presence of God was revealed to be a faltering representation of God. That simple woman, offering herself to God in trust for love of her family, became for me the manifestation of the presence of God. She had brought the Eucharistic sacrifice and Jesus’ spiritual worship from the elegant Cathedral to the noise and dirt of the market place. God must have been well pleased.

You cannot but be deeply touched by such a churchman who embodies compassion and humility.

The Humility of an Archbishop Raises Esteem

Closer home for us, we have had the distinct advantage of watching another churchman, Archbishop Peter Chung, now Emeritus, of the Archdiocese of Kuching, at close range. In the final few years of his tenure in office, he said to us: “When you get to my age, you tend to do things with a sense of urgency because you realize that there are so many things you want to do and so little time to do them.”

There were a few projects close to Archbishop Chung’s heart and he worked tirelessly to see them through. In the end, he managed to get some projects up and running, but a few other projects which he dearly wanted to put in place did not even get a lift off. It must have been a sad and disappointing experience for him. And yet, on the eve of his retirement, he candidly announced to the faithful in the Archdiocese that even though he had worked very hard on those projects, he found himself blocked at every turn and unable to succeed. Disappointed he certainly was. On reflection, however, he said that even though he was disappointed, he realized that those projects that he vigorously pursued but failed to have them implemented were not projects the Holy Spirit wanted and that he was at peace with that. On the eve of his retirement, our Archbishop taught us a valuable lesson in a Word-centred Christian living – that the Gospel begets humility. Here’s a leader who resonates the psalmist: “Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain” [Psalm 127:1, NRSV]. True greatness resides in humility. Archbishop Chung’s humble admission – an external verbalization of an inner grace – has earned him the status of a “local spiritual giant” in our eyes.

Copyright © Dr. Jeffrey & Angie Goh, September, 2012. All rights reserved.

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