In the 1970 musical, "Scrooge," Jacob Marley welcomes Scrooge into hell, and informs him that, "Nobody else wanted to." Humility is probably the least loved and least understood of the virtues. It is essential to salvation, and yet it gets so little airtime. A speaker at a YSA activity joked that if you claim to be humble, you aren't (a condensed version of his joke; the gist with the funny stuff removed for brevity). Yet Jesus says: "...learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart..." (Matt. 11:29). If claiming to be humble did not eliminate humility from Jesus' list of character traits, then I take the speaker's statement as evidence that we collectively do not understand what humility even is.
Humility is easily mistaken for its supposed symptoms—crestfallen countenance, drooping shoulders, self-deprecation, verbal devaluation of one's talents, etc. But God sees through all of this hypocrisy and posturing. He must be asking us for something more real. We have plenty of smoke to offer, but what about the wick, the wax, and the flame? You cannot grasp a candle by the smoke; you cannot offer symptoms in exchange for the real thing.
More Than Social Deodorant
If someone trips you, a sincere apology seems to discharge all debt. That contrition is often the only thing we look for when we are offended. A simple willingness to admit that one is, or may be, in the wrong, can go miles in diffusing ill will. When I demonstrate that I am aware of my shortcomings, that is almost as good as repenting of them. My imperfections don't stink as badly when I show that I am aware of them, and apologize for them. Humility can act as a social lubricant to keep our rough edges from rubbing people the wrong way. But it is far more than that. It takes on large dimensions in the eternal scheme of things.
Not Just for Sinners
A false notion floating around is that humility is for sinners. "When you've done wrong, it's time to hang your head in shame; until then, continue as you were." Moroni says that the resurrected Jesus Christ talked with him "in plain humility." Apparently, if we are ever exalted, humility will become a perfected and permanent part of our personalities. Again, this begs the question of what constitutes acceptable humility—it must be very important.
What Is It? Near the Nucleus
I do not think I am able to completely get at the root of the essence of humility, or even if the English language could adequately convey the idea even if I had grasped it, but I think I have found something near enough to the nucleus to get us going in the right direction: absolute deference to truth. In heaven, truth is the hinge upon which galaxies and eons and plans all swing. Conversely, here on earth, truth is ancillary to the pursuit of wealth, power, popularity, and the pleasures of the flesh. Truth takes a back seat to many things. To call truth "inconvenient" is almost redundant. But to manfully, dutifully accept whatever pain or inconvenience comes from deferring to truth is, in my opinion, the essence of humility.
Nephi catches two main strands in the braided wick of humility in his oft-quoted 1Ne. 3:7. They are willingness to obey God's will, and acknowledgment of our dependence on God. "I will go and do;" willingness. "I know the Lord...prepare[s] a way to accomplish the thing which he commandeth;" acknowledgment of his dependence on God. Complete deference to truth is a prerequisite for both of these essential elements of a scripturally compatible definition of humility. Notice how humility of this sort is less of a defeated, hand-wringing, self-deprecating sort, and more proactive and mobile. It is inconvenient because it asks us to change course, not because it requires giving up altogether.
The Virtue That Hurts You
Humility requires honesty with others and with self. A painful look in the mirror can not only induce humility; it often requires humility. It can be an extremely inconvenient virtue, and one that very few, if any, are predisposed to. Every ego aspires to assert its worth, to claim more than its share of whatever is available, to mutilate the truth in attempts at justification. Read Mosiah 4:11-12. We cringe at the words: "I would that ye should remember, and always retain in remembrance, the greatness of God, and your own nothingness, and his goodness and long-suffering towards you, unworthy creatures, and humble yourselves even in the depths of humility, calling on the name of the Lord daily, and standing steadfastly in the faith of that which is to come, which was spoken by the mouth of the angel." OUCH! I winced as I first read those words, and my ego was so wounded by them that I completely missed the promise in the next verse (most members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are not even aware that this promise is in the Book of Mormon): "And behold, I say unto you that if ye do this ye shall always rejoice, and be filled with the love of God, and always retain a remission of your sins; and ye shall grow in the knowledge of the glory of him that created you, or in the knowledge of that which is just and true." Permanent happiness guaranteed as a direct result of humility? Unfathomable. Like spending all day looking for your keys, only to be told that they are on Neptune, or some other place you would not expect to find them. People are searching for happiness everywhere else but in humility.
A Prerequisite for Other Virtues
Why is it so important to God? "...none is acceptable before God, save the meek and lowly in heart..." (Moroni 7:44). Neal A. Maxwell noted that without other virtues to balance it, a single virtue becomes a monster. Patience without diligence is sloth; diligence without patience is a grouchy monster that tramples others in the mad dash to get the job done. Think of the list of other virtues, and consider how many of them presuppose humility. Can we have the trust implicit in faith without humility? Without a measure of humility in the mix, patience turns to demandingness, forgiveness disappears, love takes on an unpleasant competitive edge, kindness becomes calculated for appearances, and gratitude turns into a sense of entitlement.
I used to read Alma 32, the great sermon on developing one's faith, and I would impatiently trudge through the first 25 verses or so to get to what I considered "the good stuff." Now I see those introductory verses quite differently. In about 25 verses, there are about as many references, whether direct or indirect, to humility. Faith in Christ is the first principle of the gospel; perhaps humility is the zeroth principle, a kind of basement that undergirds the other principles and ordinances. Faith in Christ, Repentance, Baptism, and the Holy Ghost, and the anecdotal fifth principle of enduring to the end, all presuppose a large measure of submissiveness, meekness, lowliness of heart, contrition, i.e. humility. We cannot even get off the ground without the foundation in place, and Alma's initial attentions to his audience are to point this fact out, with apparent glee. He is excited to finally find people who are prepared to hear what he is saying. They ask the golden question each missionary longs to hear: "What shall we do?" That question is an admission of several things: 1. I am lost. 2. What I am doing is not working. 3. I am willing to make changes to myself, my course, my behavior. 4. You have my attention. 5. And my trust. The question itself is a symptom of genuine humility.
How Humble?
The scriptures refer to "depths of humility." This indicates that instead of being like a light switch, either humble or proud, humility is like a volume knob or dimmer switch, involving levels of brightness or sound, or levels of humility. In 3Ne. 9, Jesus speaks to the people, a disembodied voice in the dark they all hear together. In verse 20, He replaces the law of blood sacrifices: "And ye shall offer for a sacrifice unto me a broken heart and a contrite spirit. And whoso cometh unto me with a broken heart and a contrite spirit, him will I baptize with fire and with the Holy Ghost, even as the Lamanites, because of their faith in me at the time of their conversion, were baptized with fire and with the Holy Ghost, and they knew it not." I have heard a few sacrament meeting speakers falsely interpret this as mere contrition for sin. (Why be humble when you're not repenting?) But this commandment is to everyone, regardless of whether or not we have sinned.
What is "a broken heart and a contrite spirit?" Broken really does mean broken—"broken to shivers," and "the beaten-out spirit" in Clarke's Commentary on the Bible. "Crushed in spirit" is closer to the original Hebrew. Apparently, an aching, smashed humility is what the Lord is asking for, and this life seems designed at times to bring us to that point. Why? Is there not an easier way? I believe the changes God wants to make are in us, or to us, and that means our free will is in the way. Once we surrender it to Him, then Jesus can proceed to make changes to our souls—baptism with fire and with the Holy Ghost. Any humility that does not go that deep means there is still willful pride blocking access to our hearts, and Jesus will not overstep our freedom to choose. The barrier of pride is gone when it is "broken," "crushed."
Paradox
"He that exalteth himself shall be abased, and he that abaseth himself shall be exalted" (D&C 101:42). It seems to me that we are deemed fit to receive greater prominence and blessings as long as it does not go to our heads, make us proud, puff us up with self importance. 1Sam. 15:17 records the essence of Saul's fall from grace: "And Samuel said, When thou wast little in thine own sight, wast thou not made the head of the tribes of Israel, and the Lord anointed thee king over Israel?" When he was a nobody in his own mind, God considered Saul a fit king; when Saul considered himself of great importance, he fell out of favor with God. There is a kind of symmetry to this concept, and it is a paradox we find throughout scripture.
Moses 4:1-4: "And I, the Lord God, spake unto Moses, saying: That Satan, whom thou hast commanded in the name of mine Only Begotten, is the same which was from the beginning, and he came before me, saying—Behold, here am I, send me, I will be thy son, and I will redeem all mankind, that one soul shall not be lost, and surely I will do it; wherefore give me thine honor. But, behold, my Beloved Son, which was my Beloved and Chosen from the beginning, said unto me—Father, thy will be done, and the glory be thine forever. Wherefore, because that Satan rebelled against me, and sought to destroy the agency of man, which I, the Lord God, had given him, and also, that I should give unto him mine own power; by the power of mine Only Begotten, I caused that he should be cast down; And he became Satan, yea, even the devil, the father of all lies, to deceive and to blind men, and to lead them captive at his will, even as many as would not hearken unto my voice."
Satan was Lucifer, a son of the morning; pride made him from a member of God's inner circle into a universal enemy. He went from claiming he would save humanity, to trying to destroy it. And he wanted credit for it all. Meanwhile, Jesus said He would do what God wanted, and let His Father have the glory. Jesus was given the task to rescue humanity, and one day "every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess that Jesus is the Christ," "that he is God" (Mosiah 27:31).
President Hinckley said: "It is so very important that you do not let praise and adulation go to your head. Adulation is poison. You better never lose sight of the fact that the Lord put you where you are according to His design, which you don't understand. Acknowledge the Lord for whatever good you can accomplish and give Him the credit and the glory and [do] not worry about that coming to yourself. If you can do that, you'll get along all right and will go forward with a love for the people and a great respect for them and try to accomplish what your office demands of you" (From Deseret News/Church News interview, Feb. 25, 2000).
I hope all this helps to define a mostly forgotten and unloved virtue, and help it regain its status among the other virtues—not that it minds having little prominence or status (just that our relationship with God and our salvation depends so much on it).
