G is for Goeglein

Often my stories start out like this:

I was listening to the radio and...

I heard on a podcast today that...

This is a symptom doing laundry with an ipod or too much driving.

But anyways, yesterday I was listening to the radio and I heard this piece, an interview with Tim Goeglein. This man is and was a leader of the Evangelical Right Political movement and the liaison for President G. W. Bush. Jr. He works for Focus on the Family. I once read a pamphlet published by Focus on the Family that encouraged parents to give each child their own room to regulate sibling rivalry and decided that Focus on the Family had nothing to offer the non-upper-middle-class white mid-american christians... so going into the listening of his interview, I was judgmental. My judgement grew when Mr. Goeglein readily admitted to plagiarism like this:

"It has been my experience that pride takes a lot avenues. For some people the expression of the pride is sex, for some people its power, for some people it's money. In my instance it was my wanting to be the clever one. The one who said it better than everybody else, the one who wrote it better...I knew exactly what I was doing and I did it anyway."

While I listened to this interview, I wondered, why is this rubbing me the wrong way? He's readily admitting to a wrongdoing, nothing wrong with that. In fact, politicians need to be better at this. His voice was rather monotone, maybe I didn't believe his remorse? Was it that now he was making money by writing a book about this sin, exploiting his repentance, showing the world how holy he was by giving up his seat as liaison for Prz Bush? Maybe. However, I think the thing that bothered me most, I realized this morning as I took my seat in church (five minutes late because I wanted a muffin) is that by listing the other kinds of expressions of pride, i.e. sex, money, power, it undermines his wrong: plagiarism. It's a rhetorical trick instead of blatantly saying: I did commit plagiarism, but at least I didn't kill anyone. It's a game of compare and contrast: While I did fail on this one count, I'm innocent on the sex, money, power counts!

The songs were playing in church and I was following along, thinking that I would write a letter to this man.

Dear Sir, you humble ramblings on the radio the other day seem false to me! Please stop representing Christians this way. Please don't say the Republican Party is the natural home for all Christians, because frankly, it's not. And sir, because of people like you I do not like to admit to being Christian in public. Thank your your time.

While composing this clever letter in my head while the hymns were being sung, I thought: "Oh, for a public figure to be humbled by little old HUMBLE me." Then, the uncomfortable realization that in my judgmental thinking, I was the one not being humble. How many times have I justified myself in some way be comparing myself to others. The hymns continued and I felt creepy. The man on the radio was not worse than me. And I was no better than him. :( Yikes. Sad news bears.

In the book that I have been reading and finally finished Mountain of Silence, Father Maximos stresses several important points about faith and the one I honed in on the most is the need for humility. Pray with humility. Live, speak, write, hug, shake hands, cook, clean, grow a garden, put on your socks, pet your cat, lesson plan with humility.

Thanks NPR, Mr. Goeglein, and the hymns today at church for forming a trifecta that taught me a small ounce of humility. I (hesitantly) pray for more of these uncomfortable lessons.

Regarding Humility

I live in the city that favors Glam over that unmenntionable thing I hesitated to type above. I was afraid that you wouldn’t even take the time to read it since I gave it such a boring title. Humility. Dang I said again.

Recently I have discovered that humility is the best of qualities. I don’t say that to argue with you over virtues, I say that because I see humility as a welcome sign on your unlocked, front gate that people will be obliged to walk through. I mean humility breaks down barriers. A humble person can talk to anyone. A humble person can talk to celebrity and make them feel human. A humble person can a homeless person and make them feel human. A humble person is confident, not in their money, background, attitude or some other lame quality, but confident in their humanness. They acknowledge their “brokenness,” as Christians like to say. (in non-Christian-ese, one might say shortcomings or tendencies toward failure or something of the sort). But while the humble person acknowledges their brokenness, they do not wallow in it, they do not let it lock them in a dark room of shame. They walk around their lives, knowing that their failures is not all of who they are, but instead, their failures are a source of encouragement and a way to relate to and understand other people’s humanity. They listen and can be silent. They acknowledge God. They admit God is smarter, bigger, and more beautiful then anything they can imagine, and the humble person knows that this God is for them. Is their advocate, the cheering father at the soccer game, the warm mother tucking them into bed at night. The humble person always remembers to ask how another is doing. The humble person opens doors, is easy to confide in, is loving. For fear and judgment of another is not in their vocabulary. They know that they could just as easily be in your shoes as you could be in theirs and so they understand. I desire humility.

So I pray for humility. I ask for it but wonder what it means to ask to be humbled. What kind of christmas paper does it come wrapped in?

I am realizing that I don’t have to wait to be knocked down in the dirt to be humbled. I can choose it. I can join the choir and softball team. I can wear a dorky looking helmet while I ride my bike. I can remind myself to consider another better than myself. And while I’d rather not play a sport that I am not good at, or join a choir that doesn’t practice enough to sing the four part harmonies it attempts to sing, or wear a dorky looking helmet, I know that my head is breakable, that I will be all right if I strike out every time I am up to bat, and I will learn from those other humble people who put themselves up there in those church choir robes.