My great joys growing up were always the "slam dunks:" successes rewarded with the point or the A or the solo or the lead role or the accolade. If I was in an activity in which I couldn't bubble up to the top, I would quit and look for an opportunity to rise in something else.
My son is on a basketball team that emphasizes defense. Maybe this is common among coaches, but it seemed a little foreign to me. When I played three years of basketball in middle school, I recall that it was all about the points. Getting the ball and driving to the basket. The first email from the coach of the Homeschool Defenders team was about the priority of defense.
This got me thinking that deep inside, I've always feared being average, being one of the under-appreciated defense. One thing that homeschooling and staying home to raise my kids has stripped me of, though, is my penchant for slam-dunks. If there is a continuum of homeschooling aptitude, I am right in the middle. My children are average performers. No spelling bee champs or violin virtuosos. I don't see full-ride scholarships in the future. They aren't perfectly mannered or running a hobby farm. At the end of a day of homeschooling, I rarely feel we have accomplished much. A messy house. Some refereeing between siblings. A great deal undone.
But there is something different lifting to the top now. A fresh humility that cracks the egg of ego and spills out compassion and prayers. Like Jacob, I wrestle with God often and come in last always. But the last shall be made first in God's kingdom order, so can I really lose?
I can put my arm around a friend now and say, "I know, it's hard. There's no formula for perfection. There is no basket for slam-dunks."
And that, I think, is what God loves to see rise within us, like a great flock of birds bursting into sky.
We've been reared in a culture where self-esteem is paramount, where egos are stroked and caressed, and where subtle fishing for compliments is an art. Facebook and blogging feed fiercely into our addiction for affirmation. Does this ever run through your mind..."Oh, I will have to post that to see what people will say?" Just yesterday, I bragged on Facebook about beating the boys at cards and basked in the virtual back-slapping from a few friends.
Today, I drew up short. A few pages of words written by a scholar in the 17th century shook my shoulders and slapped my cheeks. "Wake up, sleeper. You have work to do."
The text, taken from The Rule and Exercises of Holy Living by Jeremy Taylor (1613-1667) was so rich, I thought some of you might be hungry for such words. I would like to share them, rule by rule, over the next few days. If you roll your eyes and think "legalistic," that's fine. After reading this, I definitely won't take it personally :)
Rule 1: Do not think better of yourself because of any outward circumstance that happens to you. Although you may, because of the gifts that have been bestowed upon you, be better at something than someone else (as one horse runs faster than another), know that it is for the benefit of others, not for yourself.
Rule 2: Humility does not consist in criticizing yourself. It consists in a realistic opinion of yourself, namely, that you are an unworthy person.
Rule 3: When you hold this opinion of yourself, be content that others think the same of you. If you realize that you are not wise, do not be angry if someone else should agree! You would be a hypocrite to think lowly of yourself, but then expect others to think highly of you.
Rule 4: Nurture a love to do good things in secret, concealed from the eyes of others. Be content to go without praise. Remember, no one can undervalue you if you know that you are unworthy.
No one can undervalue you if you know that you are unworthy.
Have you read a more counter-cultural statement than that recently?
