“. . . but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant.” – Philippians 2:7 

What makes us laugh at jokes and comedy is that they smack at the truth, do they not? They’re funny because we see in the mirror our own flaws and absurdities, and how silly we are. There is a novelty song you may recall performed by country singer Mac Davis back in the early 1980’s that goes like this: “Oh Lord it’s hard to be humble / When you’re perfect in every way / I can’t wait to look in the mirror / Cause I get better looking each day / To know me is to love me / I must be a heck of a man / Oh Lord it’s hard to be humble / But I’m doing the best that I can.”  

The intention of the song, of course, is to make us laugh at ourselves. Yet, there is an element of truth in it, at least there is for me. In fact, I must confess that for most of my life, unlike the song lyrics, I’ve never even tried to be humble. For humility, as we’ve been taught to believe, is not what gets us employed in the best companies, gets us promoted, or brings in the top clients. Instead, we’re encouraged to spice up our résumés or create clever websites that boast of our skills, accomplishments and credentials. Humility, although a great virtue, just doesn’t sell very well in the marketplace. Or does it? But it’s hard.

Consider the story about George Washington, who at the conclusion of the American Revolution, many leaders supported to become monarch of the newly formed nation. What would he do with such power within his grasp? Would Washington yield to its temptation, or stick to his ideals of freedom and liberty? But England’s King George III, though himself a monarch, was nevertheless convinced that if Washington resisted the power-pull he would be “the greatest man in the world.” We, of course, know the rest of the story. Wonder where we would be today if he had chosen power over humility?

The greatest story, though, occurred two thousand years ago when the Creator of the Universe visited our planet in human form, “but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant.” Yet, in complete humility and with no fancy résumé, He changed the world forever and ever. So, what does it tell us when the father of our country and the King of the Universe chose humility over power or pride? Did not Jesus offer the perfect example of how we should live? But, oh Lord it’s hard to be humble. Isn’t it?

“Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry. . .”

• James 1:19 

In 1994, shortly after our company had acquired another large Wall street firm, I was sent on a mission as part of a team of four who traveled the country from city to city in an effort to integrate the two very different cultures. As sometimes occurs in corporate mergers, many of those from the acquired company met us with hostility, from suspicion to down right anger. Our instructions, though, were to be patient and kind in such instances, to listen empathetically to their fears and concerns, and to avoid becoming defensive or argumentative. (Sometimes that was easier said than done.)

One of my favorite anecdotal stories involved a gentleman who was especially contentious. In our meetings he was continually disruptive, making negative remarks based mostly on hearsay, and asking difficult questions intended to trip us up. Nothing we could say would sooth his anger. But in the months that followed his attitude began to shift as we followed through on our promises, helping him to not only sustain his business but to grow it beyond what it had ever been before. Over time he and I moved from being enemies to friends; eventually, I would say, even close friends.

That whole experience was a great lesson for me in the power of making the effort to understand others, the key ingredients of which are patience, kindness, integrity, empathetic listening, and thoughtful expression. For me, being part of that team was an opportunity to participate in a rare act of honest diplomacy in what is too often a ruthless, uncivil world fractured by misunderstanding. The end result was a profoundly successful merger where two cultures were – over time – able to blend into one.

As St. Francis of Assisi wrote in his often-quoted prayer, “Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned.” And the key ingredient lies in the instructions from James: “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.” Does that formula not hold true for all relationships if they are to become successful, including marriages, families, friends and neighbors, co-workers, businesses, as well as our fellow citizens?

“From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.” – Luke 12:48 

My life, I must confess, has always been comfortable. From birth to this day I’ve never lacked for much of anything. I grew up in a home where we were well provided for, and have been fortunate enough to provide well for my own family through the years. Like many, we have certainly suffered our share of financial struggles, but nothing ever close to poverty. But neither would we necessarily classify ourselves among the wealthy.

While we ourselves may not have ever suffered extreme poverty or been showered upon with extreme wealth, we have at least had opportunities to get a glimpse of both worlds. We have, for example, spent time serving and befriending the poor in our local community, and participated in mission work in third-world countries. At the same time, we have rubbed elbows with some of the wealthiest in our society, been guests in their opulent homes, wined and dined with them, some becoming dear friends.

So, all said and done, I’m content categorizing myself as middle-class – maybe even upper-middle-class, depending on where the lines are drawn – but certainly a person of privilege, living in a free land. And that’s where I’ve struggled with some internal conflict. Too often, I’m afraid, pride led me to abuse my life of privilege by taking it for granted, believing I was entitled; then squandering it on selfish endeavors, wasting what could have been put to better use. Later, after some spiritual awakening, I began to suffer pangs of guilt about being among the privileged. Why me, I would ask? Why were others born into poverty, or disabled, or burdened in other ways, and I was not?

In fact, both attitudes are off base; for, it is not a matter of the conditions into which we are born or those we may attain, rather what we do with it. Someone once said that freedom is a two-sided coin. On one side is privilege; on the other, responsibility. Jesus was clear about this when He said, “From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded.” To pridefully abuse or squander what God has given us is to be selfish and greedy. But to feel guilty about what we have is also a misuse of God’s gifts. The gifts we receive from God – wealth, wisdom, talent, leadership, intellect – are given for a purpose, and come with specific instructions: “To be used responsibly.”

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord will be with you wherever you go.” – Joshua 1:9 

A man once sat with a friend listening patiently as he complained bitterly about the troubles in his life. Finally, he spoke. “Look, Joe,” he said, “this is your life, and these are your circumstances. Now, what’s the opportunity?”

It wouldn’t be much of a stretch to imagine just such an exchange occurring at some point in one of ancient history’s most famous stories about a real man named Joe – better known as Joseph – who had every right to complain bitterly about the troubles in his life. Betrayed by his own brothers out of jealousy over the favor shown to him by their father, they sold him into slavery to the Egyptians. And if that were not bad enough, even after finding honest work in that foreign country, once again he was betrayed by the wife of his employer who falsely accused him of impropriety which led to a prison sentence.

It’s at this point where I can imagine Joseph losing it (I surely would have), complaining bitterly to his cellmate about the troubles in his life, and after listening patiently for a while the cellmate issuing a gentle challenge. “Okay, Joe, I get it. But these are the circumstances, now what is the opportunity?” We all know the rest of the story, of course, as Joseph had a unique gift of interpreting dreams, which eventually led to an opportunity to interpret the Pharaoh’s dreams. Joseph went on to become the Pharaoh’s prime minister, the second most powerful person in Egypt, positioning him to reunite and reconcile with his family by saving them from starvation.

The COVID-19 pandemic has given us all ample reason to spend our days like the fictional Joe, complaining bitterly about our troubles. Our lives, after all, have been terrifyingly disrupted. The world is changing, and it is changing us. History is happening before our very eyes. Yet, these are the circumstances, so the choice and the challenge before us is to either complain, or to seek out opportunities – and disruptions always present opportunities. So, let us be “Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord will be with you wherever you go.” This is our life as it is, and these are the circumstances. Now, what are the opportunities?

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.  Each day has enough trouble of its own.”  – Matthew 6:34 

If you are a comic strip reader like me, you may remember this one. . . It was Friday afternoon and Dagwood Bumstead was heading out the door for the weekend.  “Have a nice weekend, boss,” he bids Mr. Dithers.  “You’d better rest up this weekend, my boy,” Dithers responds with a smirk, “Monday morning can’t get here soon enough for me!!”  The next scene shows Dagwood staring glumly out the car window when one of his carpool mates asks, “Do you have any plans for the weekend?”  To which Dagwood replies, “I’ll probably just sit around and dread Monday.”

Can you see yourself in that story?  I do.  I wonder how many precious hours I have wasted in my lifetime sitting around dreading tomorrow?  That’s what is so great about comic strips, how they highlight our own absurdities.  We laugh at poor old Dagwood for how silly he looks, until we realize the joke is on us.  Dagwood is simply holding a mirror up in front of us so that we can see our own folly.  

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.  Each day has enough trouble of its own.”  These wise words do not imply that we should not have “concern” about tomorrow, nor deny that trouble may lie ahead.  Rather it says do not “worry” about tomorrow, and there is a distinct difference between worry and concern.  Specifically worry paralyzes us, but concern calls us to action.  Besides, worry can have devastating impacts on us, including damage to our health, causing the object of worry to consume our thoughts, disrupting our productivity, negatively affecting the way we treat others, and perhaps worst of all inhibiting our ability to trust in God.  

Imagine if Dagwood would spend his weekend planning for Monday rather than worrying about it?  Worrying is nothing but time wasted.  But planning is time well spent.  Planning is about thinking ahead, setting goals, determining the steps and scheduling the time – then letting go and trusting God. . . So, thank you Dagwood Bumstead for highlighting our own folly, that we may see God’s wisdom more clearly.