Humility

It is good to stand in sober judgement over one's own self. We are told not to think more highly of ourselves than we ought to think, but to think soberly, according to the measure of faith God has given each of us.

That is not to say that we are not to think highly of ourselves at all, but that we are to think more highly of others. In some ways, that is similar to the idea of loving ourselves; we are not told to not love ourselves, but to love ourselves not more than we love others, and to love that which is of greater spiritual value.

This is a simple idea. You cannot love your neighbour as yourself if you do not love yourself at all. And if you hate yourself, that is a bad thing for all the world, since you must then hate your neighbour too. In this age of globalisation, the thought that everyone is your neighbour is becoming more relevant.

So today then, it being Christmas Day, we have a convenient moment to sit and look at ourselves soberly. How much is the value of a life? How much more are other lives worth? Are we willing to serve others so that we might become less and they might become more?

Here is some advice from the Good Book.

Know those who work above us and among us and with us. Be at peace. Warn those that are idle and disruptive, encourage the disheartened, help the weak, be patient to all. Do not return evil for evil, but follow that which is good. Rejoice evermore and always. Prayer unceasingly. Give thanks in all things: for this is the will of God.

And have a happy new year too!

Three (Again!)

Recently, I've been meditating on the idea of threeness. The point about three is that it is the minimum number of points that will define a plane; it is the minimum number of points that when connected by straight lines on a plane will give a shape. Two is good, but three is difficult to break.

And so it comes to pass that I think of threeness. I think of faith, hope and love, and how Paul (that arch-crafter of philosophical epistles) manages to squeeze them into the first epistle to the church at Thessalonica: "Remembering without ceasing your work of faith, and labour of love, and patience of hope..."

Some of this will seem boringly familiar to some of you. Indeed, I've mused about these three virtues before, and even with a reversed perspective of sorts here.

But some of you might be appalled or made uneasy or amused by the fact that some nights, as I sit and sip my Bordeaux (of whatever vintage, some better than others), I think of all the people I've taught and who have taught me. I think of my first teachers — my parents and grandparents, and my last students (and I think, O God, please may I continue to have more).

And as I think of all of these people, I remember what Paul (and his fellow workers Silvanus and Timothy) remembered without ceasing: the work of faith, and labour of love, and patience of hope that others have shown in exemplary manner. And the night gives way to dawn.

Ambition (Redux)

It's interesting that, three and a half years ago, I wrote this particular post about ambition. Since I wrote that piece, I have not changed in this particular respect. It is still as perverse or as inexplicable (or incredible) to others that I should think this way, but it is true.

Out of curiousity, I decided to search for 'ambition' within this blog. The findings were interesting. It's not that I've never been ambitious before, but I have held most peculiar ambitions. As the Good Book says, "Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands..." (I Thessalonians 4:11a). If anything, my major flaw in pursuing this set of ambitions is an insatiable curiosity (aforesaid), often at war with the second point in the set.

However, I realise that I have also had other ambitions, which can be discerned from reading through the post first linked. Further down, it quotes another section of that epistle. Specifically, I Thessalonians 5:14 says, "And we urge you, brothers, warn those who are idle, encourage the fearful, help the incapable, be patient with everyone." To me, this has always been a brief summary of the Teacher's Approach.

In those four points, the bulk of my earthly ambitions has been described. And here, for those of you who have been taught by me, I would like to apologise if at any time I failed to observe these things when teaching you.