The Inner Struggle

Humility & Humiliation …

An old ditty goes something like this: “Love & Marriage go together like a horse and carriage”. This is redolent of a ancient age when “Love” was caring and sacrificial, willing the good of the loved one.

Our current usage of “love” mostly implies some sort of justification for fornication and the exploitation of sex objects for self gratification. We accessorize members of the attractive “sex”, whatever their biological alignment, or genetic configuration based on how good they look  with us or “how they make me feel”.

Or we pick a paramour based on the current “Flavour Du Jour” in our social circle, our Facebook group, or as a form of virtue signalling according to whichever politically correct legislation just emerged from the dung heap called “Parliament”,

And we embrace whatever drum the media are currently beating … we need to “fit in”, right? And if our accessory no longer “fits in” then it’s time to trade “it” in for something fresher.

And, Humility and Humiliation go together as well, for how is one to learn true humility without humiliation? Many souls desire to be humble, but few desire humiliation. Many souls pray to be made humble “place in me a humble and contrite heart” … but very few want to be humiliated.

Humility is truth. So, we should admit to ourselves that we possess nothing of ourselves except sin,  and so it is just and righteous that we receive humiliation and scorn. If we believed this truth we would accept it as truly just that all would humiliate us and treat us without consideration and despise us.

What honor and consideration does one deserve who has offended his Creator? Even a single venial sin is more deplorable and worthy of more contempt than the most miserable earthly condition, the poorest and lowest station in life.

And so we travel along through life on our merry way, loving ourselves infinitely,  believing sincerely that we are practically perfect in every way, that we are good, that we deserve to be treated well, even better than most others.

The result of such insulation from reality is that in our cosmic self love we interpret every correction, contradiction, every humiliation and comment detracting from our self perceived perfection as a personal attack deserving of the most fervent counterattack, the source of our discomfort must be put down, terminated, hopefully never to rise to sully our self regard again.

And in that self-referential state of faith in our own perfection we destroy totally any and every possibility of growth. We are already perfect. We choose to bask in our own perfection and reject God’s gentle reproof coming to us in the guise of other’s unhappiness with our actions.

We choose to go down the perfect wide path to eternal damnation because we cannot accept correction in any form. And lest, in our self absorption we forget, we need to understand that morality goes beyond the bedroom, to embrace every moment of our social and public lives. Lest we forget … Lest we forget.

There is no possibility of improvement in a soul that rejects all correction and humiliation. But God brings good out of even this evil.

The place where these “perfect” souls interact with others, the interface of personal relations, provide the perfect opportunity for others, more aware of and sensitive to God’s call, to accept humiliation and to practice genuine humility.

It is a true treasure to be offered the opportunity to practice genuine charity and humility, all the  while compensating in the normal train of events for the casual incompetence and even  malice of others, to practice keeping others safe and comfortable in spite of their own ignorance, incompetence, ingratitude, and slovenly self worship.

And to do all this in spite of receiving scorn and denigration and belittlement for rendering this selfless service in such a routine way that it is taken totally for granted by the recipients, their natural due flowing from their exalted state of perfection,.

Presumably, after enough practice, one can even reach a state of charitable love of the other and not resent the recurring instances of chaos needing to be forever and again repaired, fixed up, cleaned up, provided for, anticipated and planned for future rescue efforts.

To charitably accept the utter obliviousness of the perpetrators of the mess and chaos when their utter lack of caring about anything except their self image spreads the chaos far and wide like some apocalyptic tsunami of trouble.

And mostly even malice is absent in this unaware ignorance. Lacking culpability in the obliviousness of daily life, can one even really identify this as sinful?

This “trouble” ranges from all the trivial rotting garbage of uncaring slights and messes left behind for others to deal with at the lowest levels of the ladder of perfection, to the rampant murder of innocents and corruption of the masses for the utility of the elite which we witness every day at the highest levels of this evil of self worship, this pride in self.

If one is unaware of the consequences and misery resulting from one’s actions, if one sincerely “doesn’t mean it”, then is remorse, penitence and correction even possible? If we are “sinless” through lack of culpability then are the narcissists actually right in their belief?

Endless opportunities for humiliation and the practice of humility, true humility. “Bear your humiliation patiently, for man is tried in this crucible as gold in the fire” (Sir 2, 4-5)

Cheers

Joe

Eeyore has a poor opinion of most of the other animals in the Forest, describing them as having “No brain at all, some of them”, “only grey fluff that’s blown into their heads by mistake” (from chapter 1 of The House at Pooh Corner).

Eeyore’s favorite food is thistles. He lives in the southeast corner of the Hundred Acre Wood, in an area labeled “Eeyore’s Gloomy Place: Rather Boggy and Sad” on the map in the book.

He has a stick house therein called The House at Pooh Corner. Pooh and Piglet built it for him after accidentally mistaking the original house that Eeyore built for a pile of sticks.

 

Standard