A Humble Man Cannot Be Humiliated

BY DAVID O’BRIEN

Humility is a desirable virtue. It confronts our egos, reminds us not to take ourselves too seriously and curtails our tendency to overvalue our opinions. Nothing is more obnoxious than a person who thinks their way is the only way, their truth is the Truth. That kind of arrogance is hard to be around.

A person who exudes humility, on the other hand, is everyone’s friend. He recognizes and affirms the giftedness of others. He is quick to forgive when offended because he knows he has hurt many along the way through his stupidity and sin.

Humbleness avoids the temptation to over assert one’s rights-- "How dare she talk to me like that!" "Don’t they know who I am?" or "He can’t treat me like that."

Humility accepts inconvenience for the good of others.

I want God to teach me to be humble, meek and poor in spirit (Mt 5:3, 5). But, ugh, I hate it when He answers that prayer.

Last week, my family attended a children’s event at a museum. I arrived ahead of my wife and kids and I found an open parking spot for them. Rachel asked me to save it for her as she would arrive in less than one minute.

As I hung up the cell, a Honda Civic going the wrong way down a one way street raced up to the parking spot. I stood in the space and watched the driver begin to back towards me.

Holding my hands up, I directed the person to stop. The guy behind the wheel abruptly jumped out of the car and aggressively confronted me. His wife, children and motherin- law watched from the car as he struck his best Alpha male pose.

Shocked and somewhat unnerved, I explained that I was saving the spot for my wife. I pointed to our minivan and said: "She is right there."

"My car is right here," he countered.

"But I’m standing in this spot," I noted, trying to remain calm.

"Fine," he rebutted as he turned back to his car. "Keep standing there while I run you over."

Not quite sure I had heard the guy right, I watched as he re-engaged his car and backed up directly towards me.

I quickly stepped aside and thought, "what a jerk!"

As I walked around the corner to my wife’s new parking spot, I told myself, "I should’ve videotaped him with my phone and then sued him for hitting me."

My wife was equally offended when I told her what happened. "Here, you carry the baby so he will feel bad when he sees that we have a newborn."

"Yeah," I thought. "Too bad my wife isn’t nine months pregnant."

We bumped into a handicapped friend on the way into the museum. Now, I couldn’t wait to see that guy again inside. An infant and a person in a wheelchair. When he sees us, he might just burst into tears and confess to me how much of a loser he is.

These thoughts dominated my mind for nearly an hour. Realizing I was obsessing, I prayed to let go of my anger and desire for revenge. I thought I had put it behind me but when I returned to my car I had to fi ght the urge to slash the guy’s tires.

Now, I don’t know what you call these thoughts and desires, but they don’t fall under the category of humility.

Instead of enjoying my children, I spent my energy hating, being offended and acting as if my whole world was collapsing. Over what? A parking spot.

Admittedly, this guy’s behavior was inappropriate. But what exactly was Christ-like about my response? How did my attitude mirror that of Jesus who had railroad spikes hammered into him and then forgave the guys who did it?

I am not proud of myself for how I reacted. Still, I am grateful to God because He has shown me how far I still need to go.

Even my 4 year old son seems more humble than me. When he later encountered the guy in the museum, he said: "Isn’t that the man who was mean to Daddy?"

My wife answered "yes", adding: "And what do we do to people who treat us badly?"

Without thinking twice my son offered, "we treat them with kindness." Now that takes humility.

About David O’Brien David O’Brien is the Associate Director of Religious Education for Lay Ministry for the Archdiocese of Mobile. His column, Everyday Faith, appears regularly in the archdiocesan newspaper, the Catholic Week. Email David at dobrien@mobilearchdiocese.org.