Humility

There's a brief episode, described in Jerome Bettis' autobiography The Bus, that got me thinking. Bettis was playing football for Notre Dame. In the fall of 1991 he reported back for training camp, still not convinced that he could make a career out of football. He had spent the summer working at General Motors in his native Detroit, wearing a shirt and tie and helping out in the tech plant with research and performance tests. Then, in August, he returned to Notre Dame only to discover that his team captain had been moved to tailback, which meant that the fullback position belonged to Bettis. He looked forward to a break out year.

One day, during practice, Coach Holtz did something out of the ordinary. He called the players together from the three practice fields and told them to take a knee. He had something to say to them. "There's a guy on this football team, " he said, "he's going to get our a-- beat. He doesn't have a commitment. I can't trust him and, personally, I don't think his a-- cares. We're going to lose a national championship because of this guy. He doesn't want to win, thinks he's God's gift, thinks he's the next big thing."

By this time, like the other players, Bettis was looking around, wondering who this malingerer could be. Most coaches would have left it at that, leaving every player wondering if mhe could be the weak link and determined to do something about it. But Holtz was not like other coaches. He asked Bettis to stand and publicly castigated him for not being as committed to the cause as he could be. Bettis was devastated. Not only was the criticism unfair it was also deeply humiliating.

Lecture over, Coach Holtz dismissed the other players back to practice, then invited Bettis to join him for a ride on his golf cart. "Coach, why'd you do that?" asked the bewildered fullback. "I just want to get you going" came the inadequate reply.

I've heard sermons like that. I've heard leaders rip into Christians who are just trying to do their best. Usually there is no come-back, no opportunity to make a more measured analysis, no fairness and little grace. Too many Christians have been wounded because leaders are unable to distinguish between humility and humiliation. I wonder whether some of those leaders have not, secretly, revelled in their power. Dangling a poor sinner over the pit of hell may be one way to get a person's attention, but it probably won't win their love. Pointing out faults is, more often, the prerogative of the devil, not the responsibility of the Christian leader.

We do right to hold one another accountable. We do well to counter the culture of narcissism that mutes all criticism and praises the mediocre. We do the Lord's work when we encourage His people to be humble and self-effacing. But we can do untold damage when we rant against sin and do not love the sinner.

It took Jerome Bettis a long time to get over his humiliation. The dressing down did not really help to make him a better player, it merely undermined his self-confidence. For a kid from the dangerous streets of Detroit, already out of his depth intellectually, the coach's actions could have had the effect of sending him backwards instead of drawing him on. And we run the risk of damaging disciples when we fail to balance Law and Grace.

Scripture tells us to humble ourselves, not to humiliate others. And the promise linked to the command is important, too. "Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He shall lift you up." (James 4:10).