A recent article in the New York Times described the views of a tax professor in Alabama who also has a degree in religious studies and has published articles making the argument that tax
policies that are not progressive violate Judeo-Christian values. Johnston, David Kay, "Professor Cites Bible in Faulting Tax Policies" (New York Times 12/25/2007).
For those who might be interested in reading her most comprehensive article, see Hamill, Susan Pace, "An Evaluation of Federal Tax Policy Based on Judeo-Christian Ethics," 25 Va. Tax Rev. 671 (Winter 2006). (More information about Prof. Hamill and her writings can be found at http://www.law.ua.edu/susanhamill/.)
The law review article is written in a dryly academic style, but I found it to be very comforting
and exciting to read, for a number of reasons.
First, it shows that there are still people who take faith seriously. Not "seriously" in the gay-bashing, defend-against-an-alleged-war-on-Christmas, or put-the-10-Commandments-in-the-courthouse kind of way, but in a "what does it mean to love your neighbor" and "what should we be doing to improve the lives of others" kind of way.
The article also made a number of statements which were consistent with my beliefs, and so provided me with some assurance that perhaps I wasn't as much on the fringe as I often feel.
In that way, the article was also comforting because it provided evidence that a liberal Quaker like myself can find common ground with conservative evangelical (which is how Professor Hamill is described). (That a desire for social justice should unite liberal and conservative Christians was also one of the themes of Marcus Borg's book, The Heart of Christianity, which is highly recommended.)
Finally, the article was comforting because it gave me hope that, if we can all think and talk more about our values, and think less about our own pocketbooks, maybe we can achieve some real progressive tax reforms and social welfare reforms (such as universal health care)
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Light, Darkness, and Consciousness
In The Hidden Gospel by Neil Douglas-Klotz, Ph.D. (Theosophical Publishing House, 1999), Dr. Douglas-Klotz writes that the words in Aramaic (and Hebrew) for "light" and "darkness" signify not just different levels of light but also different qualities of thought. Light is orderly and linear, while darkness is chaotic and swirling. He states that, "Psychologically, they are like the start-to-finish, cause-and-effect nature of rational thinking compared to the zig-zag nature of intuitive thinking."
I have previously written that the story of Adam and Eve might be a mythic explanation, or metaphor, for the emergence of consciousness out of breakdown of the "bicameral mind." Our brains have separate hemisphere, one of which is more intuitive and the other of which is more logical, and what we call consciousness may have arisen when the two halves of our brains began to interact more closely.
Dr. Douglas-Klotz believes that the creation story in Genesis expresses a need for balance between light and darkness, which is undoubtedly true, because God did not abolish darkness, but only separated the light from the darkness, calling one "day" and the other "night." (Gen. 1:4-5) But it is also important that the darkness preceded the light, because before God said "Let there be light," a "darkness covered the face of the deep." (Gen. 1:2)
In other words, not just the story of Adam and Eve but also the creation story itself may be a metaphor for the rise of rational thought out of the "swirling" of a brain dominated by its intuitive hemisphere, and the rise of consciousness out of the balance between them.
I have previously written that the story of Adam and Eve might be a mythic explanation, or metaphor, for the emergence of consciousness out of breakdown of the "bicameral mind." Our brains have separate hemisphere, one of which is more intuitive and the other of which is more logical, and what we call consciousness may have arisen when the two halves of our brains began to interact more closely.
Dr. Douglas-Klotz believes that the creation story in Genesis expresses a need for balance between light and darkness, which is undoubtedly true, because God did not abolish darkness, but only separated the light from the darkness, calling one "day" and the other "night." (Gen. 1:4-5) But it is also important that the darkness preceded the light, because before God said "Let there be light," a "darkness covered the face of the deep." (Gen. 1:2)
In other words, not just the story of Adam and Eve but also the creation story itself may be a metaphor for the rise of rational thought out of the "swirling" of a brain dominated by its intuitive hemisphere, and the rise of consciousness out of the balance between them.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Seeing God
I have been reading The Hidden Gospel by Neil Douglas-Klotz, Ph.D. (Theosophical Publishing House, 1999), which is about understanding the teachings of Jesus as they might have been understood by someone who heard them in Aramaic, which was the language spoken by Jesus. I will be writing more about this book later, but a few explanations are needed now.
The author does not claim to know exactly what words Jesus used in Aramaic, because the oldest manuscripts of the Gospels are in Greek. There is a very old version of the Gospels in Aramaic, but most Western scholars believe that it is a translation into Aramaic from Greek, rather than a version of the Gospels that pre-dates the Greek versions. The author therefore uses the Aramaic Gospels to explore possible different understandings of what Jesus taught, and makes no claims about what Jesus "really" said or meant.
I had only reached the second chapter of the book when a translation at the beginning of the chapter stopped me in my tracks. The Beatitude that is translated in the King James Version of the Bible as "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God," (Matt. 5:8) was translated from Aramaic into English as "Ripe are the consistent in heart; they shall see Sacred Unity everywhere."
The KJV version is mystical and to me, largely incomprehensible, even though it is familiar. The Aramaic version somehow had instant meaning for me, even though it was unfamiliar.
I had already read that the Aramaic word for "ripe" also meant "good" and "ready." The phrases "consistent in heart" and "see Sacred Unity everywhere" reminded me of an experience from several years ago that profoundly affected my view of the world. As I explained in a much earlier entry, on "Holiness," I once did an exercise in silently blessing those I encountered during the day, and as a result I began to see those I blessed (and myself) differently. Remembering that experience as I read the phrase "consistent in heart," I realized how important it was for me to bless everyone, without any judgment about them In that consistent view of those around me, I saw what I would now (as a Quaker) call "the light within." By consistently viewing all of those around me as blessed children of God, I had "ripened" and come closer to seeing God (the "Sacred Unity") itself.
It may seem like a self-fulfiling exercise, but my experience has been that, if you consistently look for that of God in everyone, you will see God in everyone, and will see that which unites us rather than what divide us.
The author does not claim to know exactly what words Jesus used in Aramaic, because the oldest manuscripts of the Gospels are in Greek. There is a very old version of the Gospels in Aramaic, but most Western scholars believe that it is a translation into Aramaic from Greek, rather than a version of the Gospels that pre-dates the Greek versions. The author therefore uses the Aramaic Gospels to explore possible different understandings of what Jesus taught, and makes no claims about what Jesus "really" said or meant.
I had only reached the second chapter of the book when a translation at the beginning of the chapter stopped me in my tracks. The Beatitude that is translated in the King James Version of the Bible as "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God," (Matt. 5:8) was translated from Aramaic into English as "Ripe are the consistent in heart; they shall see Sacred Unity everywhere."
The KJV version is mystical and to me, largely incomprehensible, even though it is familiar. The Aramaic version somehow had instant meaning for me, even though it was unfamiliar.
I had already read that the Aramaic word for "ripe" also meant "good" and "ready." The phrases "consistent in heart" and "see Sacred Unity everywhere" reminded me of an experience from several years ago that profoundly affected my view of the world. As I explained in a much earlier entry, on "Holiness," I once did an exercise in silently blessing those I encountered during the day, and as a result I began to see those I blessed (and myself) differently. Remembering that experience as I read the phrase "consistent in heart," I realized how important it was for me to bless everyone, without any judgment about them In that consistent view of those around me, I saw what I would now (as a Quaker) call "the light within." By consistently viewing all of those around me as blessed children of God, I had "ripened" and come closer to seeing God (the "Sacred Unity") itself.
It may seem like a self-fulfiling exercise, but my experience has been that, if you consistently look for that of God in everyone, you will see God in everyone, and will see that which unites us rather than what divide us.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Doing the Right Thing
In talking about religion and political or social issues, many people want to discuss what is the “right thing” to do. But before trying to decide what is right, you might want consider why you would want to do the “right thing.”
Assuming that the “right thing” is something that is (or has been) determined by God in some way and is knowable by us in some way, I can think of only four different reasons one might want to do the “right thing”:
Obedience for the sake of obedience: You should follow God’s laws simply because they are God’s laws, without regard to consequences.
Reward in the afterlife: There is a life after death and God will punish you in the hereafter if you don’t do what you’re told, or will reward you if you do what you’re told.
Reward here on earth: God will punish you here on earth by bringing misfortunes on you if you don’t do what you’re told, or will reward you with worldly riches if you do what you’re told. Or, if you prefer a more mechanistic and less anthropomorphic theology, you could say that God’s laws represent fundamental physical and social laws, so “doing the right thing” should produce desirable consequences here on earth.
Spiritual reward: God will not actively punish or reward you, but has put in you a desire to be at peace with God and your fellow human beings, and you can achieve spiritual peace and contentment by doing the "right thing."
Let’s explore through each of these possible reasons and look to see if they make any sense.
Obedience for the sake of obedience
There are several problems with the idea that we should obey God’s law (or “do the right thing”) just because God says so, without regard to the consequences.
One problem is that it is inconsistent with the idea that human beings can think and exercise free will. Why would God both give human beings the ability to think and expect us to do what we are told without thinking?
Another problem is that the lack of consequences to our actions seems to make the rightness of our actions meaningless. What is the point of spending time figuring out what God wants us to do, and then doing what God wants, if it has no consequences whatsoever. It’s sort of like asking a question and then ignoring the answer. God asks us to do certain things, we do them, and then he pays no attention whatsoever to what we do. It's all a complete waste of time.
Although I said I was going to assume that God's will is knowable, a complete lack of consequences would also seem to make God's will unknowable. If there are no consequences to what we do, how can we ever be sure we’ve got it right? Without any standards to just how well we’ve done in the past, our future actions become increasingly uncertain.
Which makes the concept of “right for right’s sake,” and the people who believe in it, very frightening. If a person can't decide what is or is not the “right thing” by looking at the consequences, then the decision about what is “right” is completely arbitrary, depending in many cases on what the person was taught as a child, or what the person has been led to by a charismatic leader. Without any way of testing their beliefs, people can make all sorts of toxic judgments about what is the “right thing,” which can be relatively mild (such as shunning homosexuals) or more extreme (such as deciding to kill heretics).
Reward in the afterlife
Obeying God’s law in order to achieve eternal life, heavenly paradise, or some other reward after death is a little better than simple obedience for the sack of obedience, because at least we know why we’re doing what we’re doing. But it's contrary to the teachings of Jesus.
Take the parable of the prodigal son. The son who goes off and commits just about every sin imaginable is welcomed back by his loving father without ever having to repent, express regret, or pretend to change his ways. And this is consistent with many other parables and teachings of Jesus, who describes a God of seemingly infinite and unconditional love. I am, for that reason, a "universalist." I simply cannot believe in a God who would ever punish anyone for anything.
Needless to say, if everyone gets into Heaven, then it's no longer a reward for "doing good" on earth and a different motivation is needed for "doing good."
The idea of a reward in an afterlife also suffers from a lack of empiricism. If all the rewards (or punishments) come after we’re dead, and no one comes back from the dead to tell us what works or doesn’t work, how can we ever know if we’re making the right choices?
Reward here on earth
Now we're getting closer to something empirical and verifiable. If there are material consequences for our actions, then we can test whether or not we're doing the right thing by seeing how God reacts. Prosperity means we've been doing good things, and drought, plagues, disease, and calamities mean we're doing the wrong things.
It's a good belief system and is still used in many parts of the world, including parts of the world that call themselves "Christian." Of course, what Jesus said is exactly the opposite."[Your Father in heaven] makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous." (Matt. 5:43.)
Just about everyone who has ever thought about it has puzzled over why God would cause bad things to happen to good people (and vice versa).
So scratch the idea that God provide material rewards for good behavior.
Spiritual reward
My fourth choice, that obeying the word of God gives us spiritual peace and contentment here on earth, is more than just a winner by default, but represents the best explanation of the teachings of Jesus and other great religious teachers of history (e.g., Buddha, Lao-Tzu, et al.)
Jesus said that "The kingdom of God is within you." (Luke 17:21) And, as I have argued (and will argue) elsewhere in this blog, the ultimate purpose of the teachings of Jesus is the achievement of what Buddhists call "nirvana" or "enlightenment," what the apostle Paul called "the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding" (Phil. 4:7), and what I call "salvation."
Using spiritual reward as a test for God's will also creates an empirical faith, or what Quakers call "experiential." You can use your own life as a laboratory and see what kinds of thoughts and actions lead to peace and what kinds lead to anxiety or strife.Try it.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Where the Decisions Come From
I recently attended a workshop on clerking at Pendle Hill, which is a Quaker center for spiritual growth, study, and service in Wallingford Pennsylvania. During one of the workshop sessions, the leader asked us why we are concerned about unity in our meetings for business and why strive for a "sense of the meeting."
I have some thoughts about an answer to that question, but some explanation of Quaker process may be needed first in order to make the question understandable to non-Quakers.
The members of Quaker meetings (by which I mean the churches or congregations of Quakers) conduct their business (such as the adoption of budgets, elections of officers, and other matters relevant to the meeting) through a "meeting for business," also known as a "meeting for worship with a view towards business." It might also be described as a "meeting for business in a spirit of worship." In a meeting for business, the members of the meeting strive to achieve unity in every decision, and much of the workshop I attended was devoted to understanding how the clerk of the meeting (who presides at meetings for business) can help the meeting achieve that unity. But why do we Quakers care about unity? Why can't we simply take a vote and let the majority rule, or why can't we simply negotiate a consensus? Why do we struggle with the leadings of the Spirit and strive for unity?
In thinking about those questions, I remembered a story that John Woolman (1720-1772) related in his Journal. Woolman described a meeting for worship that he attended along with several native Americans. After hearing a long prayer from Woolman, one of them put his hand on his own chest and said "I love to feel where the words come from." That is very good description of the joy of Quaker worship. When we are lead by the Spirit and speak out of silence, and we hear the words of others who have been lead to speak, we can feel a connection to God and it is that connection that brings us both peace and joy.
Quakers also love to feel where the decisions come from. When we are able to reach a sense of the meeting in unity, there is a great sense of both peace and joy. If there is that of God in all of us, and we are able to share that part of God in our decisions, then the decision-making process (and the decision itself) becomes part of our connection to God and to each other.
The Quaker decision-making process is therefore an outward manifestation of our inner faith. It is one of the ways in which we try to put our belief in the goodness and sacredness of each person into practice. And when we are successful in achieving unity, it is indeed a form of worship, a sacred "thin place" in which we can become closer to the Divine.
I have some thoughts about an answer to that question, but some explanation of Quaker process may be needed first in order to make the question understandable to non-Quakers.
The members of Quaker meetings (by which I mean the churches or congregations of Quakers) conduct their business (such as the adoption of budgets, elections of officers, and other matters relevant to the meeting) through a "meeting for business," also known as a "meeting for worship with a view towards business." It might also be described as a "meeting for business in a spirit of worship." In a meeting for business, the members of the meeting strive to achieve unity in every decision, and much of the workshop I attended was devoted to understanding how the clerk of the meeting (who presides at meetings for business) can help the meeting achieve that unity. But why do we Quakers care about unity? Why can't we simply take a vote and let the majority rule, or why can't we simply negotiate a consensus? Why do we struggle with the leadings of the Spirit and strive for unity?
In thinking about those questions, I remembered a story that John Woolman (1720-1772) related in his Journal. Woolman described a meeting for worship that he attended along with several native Americans. After hearing a long prayer from Woolman, one of them put his hand on his own chest and said "I love to feel where the words come from." That is very good description of the joy of Quaker worship. When we are lead by the Spirit and speak out of silence, and we hear the words of others who have been lead to speak, we can feel a connection to God and it is that connection that brings us both peace and joy.
Quakers also love to feel where the decisions come from. When we are able to reach a sense of the meeting in unity, there is a great sense of both peace and joy. If there is that of God in all of us, and we are able to share that part of God in our decisions, then the decision-making process (and the decision itself) becomes part of our connection to God and to each other.
The Quaker decision-making process is therefore an outward manifestation of our inner faith. It is one of the ways in which we try to put our belief in the goodness and sacredness of each person into practice. And when we are successful in achieving unity, it is indeed a form of worship, a sacred "thin place" in which we can become closer to the Divine.
Sunday, April 8, 2007
War Tax Resistance
Quakers have a long history of refusing to pay taxes that pay for wars. In modern times, we have not had taxes specifically identified as taxes for wars, so those who decide that they cannot, in good conscience, pay war taxes are lead to withhold a percentage of the federal income tax based (usually) on the percentage of the federal budget war that is military spending.
Refusing to pay taxes (or parts of taxes) used to fund wars seems like a logical extension of the Peace Testimony, but war tax resistance does not seem to be well supported by the teachings of Jesus, and might actually be inconsistent with those teachings.
When Jesus was asked about the payment of Roman taxes, he asked for the coin used to pay the tax (a Roman coin) and then asked whose image was on the coin. When told it was Caesar's, Jesus replied that we should "Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor's; and to God the things that are God's." Matt. 22:15-22 (NRSV). (See also, Mark 12:13-17; Luke 20:20-26.) That story might or might not be a commandment that we should always pay our taxes, but it certainly doesn't support the idea that we should be refusing to pay taxes. The Roman Empire was an empire built by military conquest, and the taxes paid to Rome supported that military. If Jesus had qualms about paying taxes to support military conquest, he certainly didn't show it there.
Other teachings of Jesus are similarly inconsistent with tax resistance, even in those passages often quoted to support the ideal of pacifism. In the version of the "Sermon on the Mount" in Matthew, Jesus said "Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile." Matt. 5:39-41 (NRSV). My understanding is that the "forces you to go one mile" was a reference to a Roman law or custom that required Jews to carry for at least one mile the baggage of any Roman soldier or official who might command it. Needless to say, this was greatly resented, and yet Jesus said that if your hated Roman oppressor forces you to do something, do even more than you are required to do. If our own government is evil, should we resist? According to Jesus, it is acceptable, even preferable, for us to help officials of a government that is violent.
Jesus also said that "you shall not murder" is not enough. "But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment...." Matt. 5:22 (NRSV).
What sense are we to make of these passages? Why would God want us to help our enemies, and why would God not want us to be angry?
The common thread in most of the teachings of Jesus, and the theme that allows his teachings to make sense, is spiritual peace. We are to give up anger, and be willing to love and help our enemies, because that is what will give us the greatest spiritual peace, happiness, and contentment. Eliminating war and violence may be noble goals, but that is not what the teachings of Jesus are about. The purpose of Jesus's teachings is to help us find inner peace, and not necessarily outer peace. (Jesus said "Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword." Matt. 10:34 (NRSV).)
A person who opposes war and other forms of institutional violence could find it spiritually disturbing that his or her tax dollars are used to help pay for war and weapons, and so war tax resistance might be more peaceful to that person than paying the taxes. But war tax resistance can have consequences, such as tax penalties, interest on both the taxes and the penalties, and even jail. (Willful failure to pay a federal tax is a misdemeanor punishable by up to one year in prison and a fine not exceeding $25,000.) And if the war tax resister has property, the government will eventually collect the taxes, interest, and penalties, regardless of the religious beliefs of the taxpayer.
So which are we to choose, the economic and emotional costs of war tax resistance or the emotional and spiritual costs of war tax compliance?
Like many other problems in life, the question seems to be addressed by the "Serenity Prayer" of Reinhold Niebuhr:
War is something that needs to be changed, but tax resistance does not seem like an effective way to change it, even assuming that it can be changed. By the standard of the Serenity Prayer then, war tax resistance seems like an unwise choice.
Refusing to pay taxes (or parts of taxes) used to fund wars seems like a logical extension of the Peace Testimony, but war tax resistance does not seem to be well supported by the teachings of Jesus, and might actually be inconsistent with those teachings.
When Jesus was asked about the payment of Roman taxes, he asked for the coin used to pay the tax (a Roman coin) and then asked whose image was on the coin. When told it was Caesar's, Jesus replied that we should "Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor's; and to God the things that are God's." Matt. 22:15-22 (NRSV). (See also, Mark 12:13-17; Luke 20:20-26.) That story might or might not be a commandment that we should always pay our taxes, but it certainly doesn't support the idea that we should be refusing to pay taxes. The Roman Empire was an empire built by military conquest, and the taxes paid to Rome supported that military. If Jesus had qualms about paying taxes to support military conquest, he certainly didn't show it there.
Other teachings of Jesus are similarly inconsistent with tax resistance, even in those passages often quoted to support the ideal of pacifism. In the version of the "Sermon on the Mount" in Matthew, Jesus said "Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile." Matt. 5:39-41 (NRSV). My understanding is that the "forces you to go one mile" was a reference to a Roman law or custom that required Jews to carry for at least one mile the baggage of any Roman soldier or official who might command it. Needless to say, this was greatly resented, and yet Jesus said that if your hated Roman oppressor forces you to do something, do even more than you are required to do. If our own government is evil, should we resist? According to Jesus, it is acceptable, even preferable, for us to help officials of a government that is violent.
Jesus also said that "you shall not murder" is not enough. "But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment...." Matt. 5:22 (NRSV).
What sense are we to make of these passages? Why would God want us to help our enemies, and why would God not want us to be angry?
The common thread in most of the teachings of Jesus, and the theme that allows his teachings to make sense, is spiritual peace. We are to give up anger, and be willing to love and help our enemies, because that is what will give us the greatest spiritual peace, happiness, and contentment. Eliminating war and violence may be noble goals, but that is not what the teachings of Jesus are about. The purpose of Jesus's teachings is to help us find inner peace, and not necessarily outer peace. (Jesus said "Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword." Matt. 10:34 (NRSV).)
A person who opposes war and other forms of institutional violence could find it spiritually disturbing that his or her tax dollars are used to help pay for war and weapons, and so war tax resistance might be more peaceful to that person than paying the taxes. But war tax resistance can have consequences, such as tax penalties, interest on both the taxes and the penalties, and even jail. (Willful failure to pay a federal tax is a misdemeanor punishable by up to one year in prison and a fine not exceeding $25,000.) And if the war tax resister has property, the government will eventually collect the taxes, interest, and penalties, regardless of the religious beliefs of the taxpayer.
So which are we to choose, the economic and emotional costs of war tax resistance or the emotional and spiritual costs of war tax compliance?
Like many other problems in life, the question seems to be addressed by the "Serenity Prayer" of Reinhold Niebuhr:
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.
War is something that needs to be changed, but tax resistance does not seem like an effective way to change it, even assuming that it can be changed. By the standard of the Serenity Prayer then, war tax resistance seems like an unwise choice.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Humility
The word "humble" and all its variations (humility; humbly) and synonyms (e.g., the "blessed are the meek") appear frequently in both the old and new testaments of the Bible, but what is humility?
The Bible says that "the man Moses was very humble, more so than anyone else on the face of the earth." Num. 12:3 (NRSV). The man who spoke to God, confronted and defied the pharaoh of Egypt, and led an entire people into the wilderness towards an unseen promised land was "very humble"? What kind of humility is that?
When I think of humility, I often think of submissiveness, which suggests weakness, but humility in the Bible suggests a kind of quiet strength.
This is explicit in one of the commentaries to "the Lost Gospel Q" (Marcus Borg, Consulting Ed.), which translates the beatitude "blessed are the meek" as "fortunate are the gentle." A footnote explains that the original Greek word was "proates" which is more accurately translated as "gentle but strong" and "connotes strength that is gentle and tinged with of caring."
All those thoughts were jumbled up in my head when I read this passage by William O. Brown (1978): "Humility is a form of inner strength, a kind of dignity that makes it less necessary for a person to pretend." (Daily Readings from Quaker Writings Ancient & Modern, Linda Hill Renfer, Ed., Serenity Press)
Mr. Brown pretty much nailed it there. Humility is an expression of confidence, because a person who is truly confident does not need to brag or boast. And when you combine that kind of confidence with compassion for others, you get the "gentle strength" that Jesus was talking about.
And I have thought of at least two ways in which humility can bring power:
The Bible says that "the man Moses was very humble, more so than anyone else on the face of the earth." Num. 12:3 (NRSV). The man who spoke to God, confronted and defied the pharaoh of Egypt, and led an entire people into the wilderness towards an unseen promised land was "very humble"? What kind of humility is that?
When I think of humility, I often think of submissiveness, which suggests weakness, but humility in the Bible suggests a kind of quiet strength.
This is explicit in one of the commentaries to "the Lost Gospel Q" (Marcus Borg, Consulting Ed.), which translates the beatitude "blessed are the meek" as "fortunate are the gentle." A footnote explains that the original Greek word was "proates" which is more accurately translated as "gentle but strong" and "connotes strength that is gentle and tinged with of caring."
All those thoughts were jumbled up in my head when I read this passage by William O. Brown (1978): "Humility is a form of inner strength, a kind of dignity that makes it less necessary for a person to pretend." (Daily Readings from Quaker Writings Ancient & Modern, Linda Hill Renfer, Ed., Serenity Press)
Mr. Brown pretty much nailed it there. Humility is an expression of confidence, because a person who is truly confident does not need to brag or boast. And when you combine that kind of confidence with compassion for others, you get the "gentle strength" that Jesus was talking about.
And I have thought of at least two ways in which humility can bring power:
- Humility gives us the power to see more clearly. All too often, our perceptions of the world and ourselves are clouded by our own egos. When we see ourselves as "right" and others as "wrong," it prevents us from seeing the truth in others and prevents us from learning new truths. And seeing more clearly gives us the power to act more clearly.
- Humility also gives us power because people are more likely to listen to a voice of humility than a voice of pride or arrogance. The Tao Te Ching says that "All waters are drawn to the sea; it is its lowness that gives it power." People are actually more likely to trust the judgment of a person who expresses occasional uncertainty than the "know it all" who always claims to have all the answers.
Finally, and most importantly of all, humility reflects our right relationship with God. Our faith in God give us confidence and strength. But that confidence and strength is tempered by our understanding of our human weaknesses, by our inability to understand God's plans, and by our knowledge that our salvation comes from God's grace and not because we can earn it or deserve it.
Which helps my understand a little better my favorite passage from the old testament:
"And what does the Lord required of you, but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God." (Micah 6:8)
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