In the last few blog posts I have been thinking about humility, the lack of it in our culture and in ourselves, the importance of it when we find it. Granted, humility is not the most popular topic to write about, but here’s one more thing to say about it.
Last week, I went on a working mission trip to help with the long rebuilding of the New Jersey shore from hurricane Sandy which devastated the area over a year ago. We stayed in a Presbyterian Church in Point Pleasant and were absolutely amazed by their hospitality and the great lengths this congregation has gone to feed and house volunteer groups week after week. Thank you, people of Point Pleasant Presbyterian Church.
This was my first experience with a mission trip of this nature. I am a musician, a thinker, a reader, a preacher, a writer, a listener—but rebuilding a house is not one of my strong suits. Yet, here I was, ready to serve, convinced by fellow members in my congregation that there would be something I could do.
And there was! Primarily as a learner. This is where the humility part comes in. For four of the five days I was down there I was on the painting crew. Now, I have painted in my own home and done a passable job. But here in Point Pleasant I was working with a volunteer who is a professional painter! He is also retired from being a high school principal, so he knows how to teach and administrate. Out on the work site he was teaching me the craft of painting.
You may wonder how much one needs to know in order to paint. You would be surprised. Thoughout the week he would walk by, observe what I was doing (or not doing) and ask in his quiet way, “May I offer a suggestion?” Of course, I would answer with a yes. And then he would tell me more about how to hold a brush, the best way to roll the paint on the wall, in what order to paint a paneled door, how to edge the trim and much more. Sometimes when I heard “May I offer a suggestion?” I would be momentarily disappointed; it meant that I was still not doing something right! That’s where some humility needed to come in; it takes humility to be a learner. As the week progressed, I began to value each new painting tip I learned. I was doing better work for the people we were serving and someday I would be doing better work in my own home.
But I also learned to value the question itself. My painting coach didn’t come to me and tell me how to do something. Instead, he very simply asked if he could suggest something, which I think implies a respectful way to teach, more of an invitation. For the learning to continue, I would need to agree to my own learning. By answering “yes” I accept the invitation and become a participant in the process, not just an object to be corrected. It appears to be a more humble way to teach. What would he have done if I said, no? I didn’t test that. My guess is he would simply have shrugged his shoulders and said calmly, “Okay, let me know when I can help.”
It seems to me that Jesus’ preferred way of teaching was also by invitation: he invited people into ways of being participants in the kingdom of God. He did this by telling stories like the one about the Samaritan who crossed the road to help an injured stranger or by suggesting metaphors like being “salt” and “light” in the world to describe how our living can make a difference to others. Hopefully we answer “yes” on most days. Teaching, learning, rebuilding on the Jersey shore and being a follower of Jesus happen best when accompanied by a sprinkling of humility.
Leave a Reply