It’s the hardest lesson to teach, and it’s the one I just can’t seem to get right… but teach it I must.
After five years, I’m rereading Kristin Lavransdatter, and I still wanna smack her and hug her all at the same time. Such pride! The willfulness and arrogance of youth: I still revert to it in my moments of weakness… and I’m not young.
It’s so easy to make promises to our Lord when I’m alone in His presence. The lessons of humility are taught in the intimacy of prayer… but they’re only internalized by practice, by trial, in the company, the presence of, and in interaction with others.
If it weren’t for other people we’d all be holy. – Mother Angelica
Last weekend I surprised myself by getting annoyed and irritated with several people and circumstances. I was shocked at the many instances when I was caught with my guard down and had lashed out before I could stop myself. Yikes.
The problem with humility is I always think I’ve learned from my past. I can see where I did wrong and where I should have done better. But shame and realization only come after the fact. Beyond apologies, the only way I can stretch this particular spiritual muscle is to reenter the fray, to keep on engaging, to stay in the battle. It’s easier to retreat and keep to myself, and I’ve learned to do that often in order to avoid sinning. But we cannot hide indefinitely. Sooner or later we need to leave the cocoon. It’s one thing to avoid known occasions of temptation; it’s another to be unable to predict where the next test is going to originate, as it often comes from left field. There’s nothing to admire about the devil but he IS adept at identifying the chinks in the armor.
One reason I love this novel is because I was very much like Kristin: blissfully oblivious to the far reaching consequences of my actions. Though the events of my life were far less dramatic than those in her story, they still weigh heavily on my soul, even after confession and absolution.
All my days I have longed equally to travel the right road and to take my own errant path.*
My bad behavior last weekend, I’m sorry to say, was on full display… in front of my husband. I cannot tell you how embarrassing it was to have this person who knows me so intimately, who sees me at prayer every morning, witness my hypocrisy. He knew, and he didn’t correct me. As usual he modeled respectful behavior and taught me without a word, not even a look. I apologized to the person I offended, and told my hubby about it later. But oh, I tell you, though he didn’t look at me directly when I was losing my cool, it was like having Christ beside me, watching me out of the corner of his eye, without reproach, but with love and understanding and an unspoken, “You’re better than this.”
This is what marriage to a good man looks like. I am convicted because of the kind of person my husband is. And in truth I have been fortunate to have been around people who draw me to holiness, not so much by what they say as what they do. I shake my head at Kristin’s carelessness, her presumption that she’ll be able to handle herself. But I do the same thing.
Humility is a foundational virtue we all need to keep working on. Kristin kept on learning. To have one’s eyes opened to the consequences of sin, to see that my willfulness directly caused someone else’s pain, hardship, fall from grace… It is heartbreaking… and educative, if we let it educate us.
But I didn’t realize then that the consequence of sin is that you have to trample on other people.*
One practice I will try to adhere to this year is to pray the St Michael prayer first and the Anima Christi, before going anywhere, meeting with other people, engaging online, etc. It is good to always be armed. Our kids are older and have developed an awareness for the reality of the spiritual battle, so we don’t have as many conflicts as we used to, but like most families we’re still subject to the effects of stress and fatigue on shorter fuses.
How to teach kids to be watchful but not fearful of the world’s temptations, evil lurking? It is a hard balance. We constantly need to remind them that grace is there for the taking, and if we are in need then we should grab hold of it immediately. To recognize the moment of trial we need to be teachable and moldable. Humility demands a constant state of vigilance and awareness, of seeing Christ in all people and in all circumstances.
Anything except that He should let her have her will. And every time she had been granted what she asked for—for the most part. Now here she sat with a contrite heart—not because she had sinned against God but because she was unhappy that she had been allowed to follow her will to the road’s end.*
Because of the intimacy of family our children know our failings all too well. We’re challenged because they’re watching us. They identify hypocrisy easily, and even when they don’t call us out on it, their eyes and ears are open. My kids are good at pointing out exactly when I engage in behavior that I’ve told them not to do.
So I can take this intimacy and be embarrassed by it and double down on my failings. Or I can swallow the bitter pill and admit that I’m human too. I hold on to the faith that holiness is found not in the absence of failure, but in perseverance. Kristin persevered, right to the end.
Further reading:
Kristin Lavransdatter at Catholic Education
Baptism of our Lord at Catholic Culture
*quotes from Kristin Lavransdatter. (Amazon Associates Link)
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