Achievement, Fortune, and the Gift of Humility

Stepping up to the free throw line, I set up my shot and knew the second I released the ball that it was an airball. Retrieving the ball quickly, I turned to shoot an easy layup off the backboard and found myself throwing the ball past the square above the basket. Three attempts later, I finally put the ball in the basket. Looking back to the free throw line, I flushed at the display I had just given the twenty-five other men playing this game at a church gathering. Of course, no one else was as concerned as I was about my performance, especially since the game was about “knocking” the guy in front of you out of the game and I was making it easy. For me, a guy who probably didn’t go a day without shooting a basketball for over 30 years in a game or practice, and then coached it for another dozen years, the experience was quite humbling. Actually, the experience verged on being humiliating, a place we take ourselves when our performance falls so far short of our expectation as to embarrass us. A few days later, after a nearly ten year hiatus, I found myself in a similar place on a golf course. Thank God I had a patient foursome and we were in a scramble. Apparently, neither my basketball nor my golf skills are like riding a bicycle. What you don’t you use, you lose. At one point during the golf outing, I made a comment about the experience being humbling. Curiously, my game actually improved after I said it out loud. Sorry, no Happy Gilmore comebacks here – it was only a marginal improvement. However, in humility, my expectations were lowered. I relaxed a bit and accepted things as they were. There was no “man-handling” this situation. All I could do was try to relax and enjoy it as it was. Humility is defined as a freedom from pride or arrogance. We frequently associate it with a modest disposition. A “humble beginning” suggests a start with minimal expectations for great achievement. “Humble” circumstances imply a simple or basic existence. The humble person does not brag or draw attention. In today’s society, we may be more familiar with “false humility.” The state of claiming low pride or acting modest when we may actually feel quite superior. We are “humbled” in the receipt of awards, honor, and glory for our great acts of charity and magnanimity. Sometimes, we even claim “humility” in the face of great achievement – a truly difficult place to find true humility. As a society, we are all about achievement. A recent headline contrasted two competing politicians by describing one as “self-made.” That’s the ultimate, right? The self-made man or woman who achieved wealth, power, or fame by the merits of their own moxy, intelligence, and effort. We love to celebrate the go-getter with the “golden touch” or the ability to “make things happen.” Achievement in our society is often centered on “keeping score.” We learn early in school that high grades are a good thing and that the team who scores more points wins. Life’s scoreboards progress from there: bank accounts, an address, a title, a headline, votes “won,” an award, an “exit,” our name on a building. In the end, success is clearly identified by the correct quantification, tallied and displayed for affirmation. None of those versions of success are bad in themselves. Achievement is a reflection of the good stewardship of talents, gifts, and opportunities presented to us throughout our lives. The golfers in my foursome this week were quite good and it was clear they had worked to get there. The person with the title or the one who makes a big donation or the athlete for whom we cheer every Sunday, have all made sacrifices and put in much work to be where they are. In many ways, they’ve earned it. The problem for all of us in