Joy, Self-knowledge, and Humility
one
Self-knowledge is a source of joy!
Today was one of those days in which everything fell apart. I’ve written 890, 1000 word meditations basically in a row - and today – writers block, I got nothing. Two hours I worked at it – still nothing. The whole day was like that and it was topped off with forgetting to close the doors in the house to the rooms with carpet and the dog, well lets just say the dog thought it was grass. I found it by walking through it with my socks. It’s Teresa’s dog – this dog better pray more rosaries. Today was one of those days that teach us self-knowledge – the knowledge that we are not God. Well – I don’t know about you, but I hate self-knowledge. But I have it all wrong. Self-knowledge is really a source of Joy. The first thing this day taught me is Humility. Humility means two things.
A. I am not God and I have limits.
B. I am God’s immeasurably beloved and precious child. I am worthwhile, I have gifts, talents, and strengths that are needed for the good of others.
The fact that I have limits is not a downer – it is a source of joy. I don’t have to try to be God. I don’t have to be perfect. I can admit and accept I have limits. This takes the pressure off, which allows me to be even more creative and use the gifts God has given me as His beloved son - and this is a source of joy.
Joy depends on our knowing the truth about ourselves, I think, for at least four reasons. Knowing who and what we are is helps us to: a) cultivate gratitude; b) not think about ourselves too much; c) appreciate the magnificence of other things; d) resist the urge to feel as though our salvation depends upon ourselves.
two
Gratitude and a sense of entitlement are diametrically opposed. Have you ever heard someone say “Thank you!” after his insistent demands have finally been met? It doesn’t sound like gratitude – it sounds more like “Well, it’s about time!” You’re not grateful for what you think you’re owed. Gratitude is due to what is given gratuitously. It’s not due to what you claim by right.
In fact, you don’t have any absolute rights. Not before God. Because in your native state, you don’t even exist. You’re a sliver of non-being that God took notice of and brought to life – and non-being has no claims on being. Remember Our Lord’s words to Catherine of Sienna: “Do you know, daughter, who you are, and who I am? If you know these two things you will be blessed. You are she who is not; whereas I am He who is.”[1]
And not only are you absolutely dependent upon God for your existence, you are a sinner! Apart from God, you’re nothing, and then when God lets you participate in being, what do you do? You turn away from Him, you insult Him by preferring to slide back into evil and sin, the shameful non-being of privation.
But the plus side is you can say “thank you,” and mean it, for everything.
Because you aren’t owed anything, you can rejoice in everything as a gift. Yes, we’re nothing, but God’s given us everything – isn’t it great?
three
Self-knowledge causes joy because it encourages us not to think too much about ourselves. We aren’t a big deal, so we shouldn’t think a great deal about ourselves. Narcissism doesn’t just mean thinking a lot of oneself, it also means thinking about oneself a lot. That’s disproportionate to the truth – you should think the most about the most important things, and you yourself aren’t one of them. So humility doesn’t mean constant self-disparagement: as C.S. Lewis says, if you meet someone who’s really humble, you’ll notice that person “will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all.”[2] That’s as it should be. Satan wants us to think more about ourselves than about anything else, for the simple reason that it’s not good for us and it makes us miserable.
four
When you know you’re little, you appreciate the magnificence of other things, you refocus your attention on the grandeur of the world beyond yourself. Chesterton tells the story of two boys: one became a titanic giant and the other became as small as a grasshopper. The one who became a giant became bored with everything – the wonders of the world were all toy-sized and unimpressive. The one who became tiny was able to have astonishing adventures everywhere. He appreciated everything, now that he saw how big and rich it all was, but to do that he had to become small first.
five
Humility is simply a sense of scale, and because you no longer dominate every scene, you can appreciate things for what they are. But it also takes the pressure off. You’re not in control, you’re not the major mover in the universe. God is. Which also means you can take peace in leaving your very salvation up to him.
This was the secret of St. Philip Neri, one of the most famously joyful of all the saints. It’s recorded that one time he gave a very delightful illustration of how to be miserable and how to be happy:
... one day, meeting two Dominicans, he passed between them, saying, “Let me pass, I am without hope.” The good fathers, understanding his words in their ordinary sense, stopped him and began to console him, and to ask him a number of questions; but at last he smiled and said, “I have no hope of myself, but I trust in God.”[3]
Br Lawrence in the classic, The Practice of the Presence of God, had the right perspective: He said “when I know I have failed, I acknowledge it and say, ‘that is what I usually do when I am left to myself;’ if I have not failed, I give thanks to God, and acknowledge it is His doing.” (p. 44) Christian joy depends on recognizing that even the slow, unpredictable process of conversion and holiness is primarily God’s work, done in His time, based on his generosity.
We don’t want to take our own achievements or our own failings too seriously. We are such little people, after all.
Thank God.
[1] Raymond of Capua, The Life of St. Catherine of Siena, trans. George Lamb (Rockford Illinois: Tan, 2003), 79.
[2] C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 2001), 128.
[3] John Robinson of the Oratory, In No Strange Land: The Embodied Mysticism of Saint Philip Neri (Kettering, OH: Angelico Press, 2015), 121.