We’re grateful to Rev. Peter Jonker of LaGrave Christian Reformed Church for introducing this quarter’s focus on the virtue of Humility. If you were unable to attend that chapel talk, we encourage you to read his message below. And, if you did attend the chapel, the message is worth going over again!

There are lots of Bible passages that call us to humility. Here are two of them: James says, “Humble yourself before the Lord, and he will lift you up.” And in Ephesians, it says, “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.” So, humility is a biblical thing, and I want to think about it with you today. And I’m going to start with this. What do I have here in my hands? It looks like a pile of dirt, but actually, I’m not holding regular dirt, I am holding humus. Humus is dead stuff. Plants and animals die and they decay, and after they decay, they look like this. Humus. Humus is also really good stuff. Gardeners love humus! When you put this mix in your garden, it feeds the soil and helps the plants grow.

The word humus is the Latin word. Do you know what it means? It means “dirt.” The Latin word for dirt is humus. That Latin word humus is also where the word “humility” comes from. You can hear that, right? Humus – humility. The word “humility” comes from the Latin word for dirt. There’s another English word, a word that we use all the time, a word that also comes from that Latin word for dirt. I wonder if you can guess what that is? Can you think of a word that we use all the time that sounds like it might come from the word humus? That’s right. “Human.” The word for what we call ourselves also comes from the word dirt. We are Hu-man. Dirt-man. Dirt people.

What does dirt have to do with humility and being human? It all goes back to the Bible and the story about how we were created. Remember how God created Adam and Eve? He picked up dirt from the ground and he breathed on it and made us human beings. That story helps us think about what humility means.

When we are humble, we remember that we come from the dirt.
When we are humble, we don’t think too much of ourselves.
When we are humble, we are “grounded.” And just like humus does for plants—when we are rooted in humility, it helps our souls grow healthy and strong and good.

Today I want to help us grow in humility, and to do that, I want you to see that humility has to do with the direction you look. If you are trying to be humble, it makes a difference whether you look up and down or side to side.

Let me explain. I want to tell you a Bible story. It’s a parable that Jesus told. Two men went into the temple. One of them was a Pharisee. Everyone in the community looked up to him. They said he was smart. They admired how he kept all God’s laws. The other person was a tax collector. He was not a good person. He had cheated people out of money. Nobody liked him. Both men went to the temple to pray. When the Pharisee prayed, he looked side to side. He looked around at the others in the room. He looked at the tax collector and said, “Thank you, Lord, that I am not like that tax collector. I do good things!” The tax collector did not look side to side at the other people in the temple. When he prayed, he kept his eyes down. He could not even look up to heaven because he knew his life was a mess. His prayer was, “Lord, I know I’m no good. Have mercy on me a sinner.”

Jesus said that the prayer of the Pharisee was not accepted. It was proud. Jesus also said the prayer of the sinful tax collector was accepted. It was humble. Jesus finishes that story by saying: “Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” That parable teaches us some important things about humility. It’s hard to be humble when you’re always looking from side to side. It’s hard to be humble when you are always comparing yourself to others, seeing how you measure up.

I remember when I was in elementary school, we would have spelling tests. Do you still have spelling tests? Probably you do. Our spelling tests were surprises. Without warning, our teacher would give us 10 hard words and see if we could spell them. Afterwards, we would hand the test in, the teacher would grade it, and then she would hand them back to us. When the time came for the teacher to hand the tests back, she would put the graded papers on each of our desks. When that test hit my desk, I would look at my score. That was the first thing I would do. What do you think was the second thing I did? I’d look side to side. I’d look at the score of the people around me. I’d compare myself to them. Did I do better than them? Did I do worse than them? If I did better than all my neighbors, how would I feel? I would feel proud. I am the best speller. Yay for me! But if I did worse than all the people around me, how do you think I felt? Oh no. I am a bad speller. I am not very smart. What is the matter with me!?

Do you ever do something like that? Look around to see if you did better than others?

It’s not good, you guys. Think about what’s happening inside you when look side to side, when you compare like that. I look at my neighbor’s test and I see a bad grade, and I feel good because I beat him. I look at my neighbor’s test and I see a good grade, and I feel bad because he beat me. That’s not good! I am sad when my neighbor succeeds, and I’m happy when he fails. I’m cheering for bad things to happen to my neighbor! My soul is in a bad state! I should be happy for my neighbor’s success. I should be sad when my neighbor has something bad happen to her. Looking sideways like the Pharisee, comparing yourself to other people so that you can feel good about yourself is destructive. It is pride and it’s bad for your soul.

So, if comparing yourself to other people is bad for humility, what’s good for humility?

What’s good for humility is looking up and looking down. You’ll notice that, in the parable, the tax collector wasn’t even able to look up to heaven. He kept his eyes to the ground. When we are humble, we keep our eyes on the ground. We remember that we are creatures made of dirt. We are just hu-mans. Dirt people. So, if you did well on your spelling test, it’s not because you’re so great; it’s because God gave you gifts. Remember: Dirt can’t spell. Dirt would get zero out of ten on every quiz. If you get good grades, it’s because God breathed in you and gave you gifts. When you are humble you look down and remember that you are humus.

But you also look up. You may be made from dirt, but you are dirt that God has breathed on. You may be dirt, but you are beloved by God—Jesus has died for you! You may be dirt, but you are God’s workmanship! God is a potter who has taken your dirt and made it into something good and beautiful! He has spent time making you. You are his masterpiece! He’s shed blood for you. So when you are humble, you feel good about yourself; but, you don’t feel good about yourself by comparing yourself to others—you feel good about yourself by looking up to God and realizing how much he loves you.

In one of his books (The Screwtape Letters), C.S. Lewis describes what humility looks like if you put this all together. When you are really humble, you are just as happy when your friend paints the most beautiful picture in your art class as if you had painted it. When you are really humble, you are just as happy when your friend gets 100% on his test as when you get 100%. When you are truly humble, you are just as happy when your friend scores the winning goal in your soccer game as if you’d scored it. You are just as happy for your friend as for yourself. It’s the opposite mindset of me with my 3rd grade spelling test!

I was thinking: if a school was full of young people who actually felt that way about each other, wouldn’t that be a great place to be. That’s because it would be a school full of humility.

We hope you were blessed during our recent Parent-Teacher Conferences to experience not only the wisdom of our teachers but also their hearts for your children. In this Classical Education Corner post, we follow Mrs. Bodine’s August in-service devotional with Dr. Stevens’s. It’s a lovely reflection on the calling of teachers to be both “vassals and vessels of the King” and a good message for us all as we begin our focus on the virtue of Humility.

Thank you to Michele for asking me to lead devotions this morning, and for everyone who has helped me, a displaced middle-aged academician, to feel at home here in the Trinitas fold. Sometimes you don’t know how much you value something until it’s taken from you, and that’s how I felt a year ago at this time regarding the loss of day-to-day collegiality of the teaching life. But starting last January, I felt a very tangible return of that comradeship here at Trinitas—and that is a cause for gratitude from me to all of you. I’d like to especially thank Robb, who gave me free use of a table in the back of the 7/8 room, where I could lay out, or rather spill out, my menagerie of notebooks, workbooks, lunch bags, and baseball caps. Thanks, Brother.

With all that being said, and earnestly so, I want to range around to our devotional topic, which is discomfort and disorientation. Perhaps it is just me, though I suspect it’s more widespread, but late August has always brought with it a certain degree of educator’s angst. Am I really prepared for what is about to inexorably arrive? (By the way, IEW training affirms splitting infinitives for stylistic necessity!) Do I know the material well enough? Have I spaced the writing assignments strategically, for the sake of student survival and my own survival? Did I get enough of the purple polyester folders? (I think so). Have I added the new printer? (I don’t think so.) Will I give each student exactly what he or she needs to thrive, in the midst of the daily hurly-burly of prep and delivery and assessment and loose ends and wild cards and variables and the general chaos (much ameliorated by grace) of the human condition? These and other questions—some more frightening to me, like “wait, is this Thursday?” or “Did I just assign the same reading again?”—circle like hawks, or maybe at times like buzzards, as I try to get ready for another year, my 31st as a teacher—shouldn’t’ I have this mastered by now?

Okay, just when this seems to threaten an avalanche of ill-timed doubts, I remember that I got into this realm because I wanted to serve the Lord through helping to shape the minds and imaginations and characters of young people. I’m a servant; we are all thankfully vassals and vessels of the King and hence can only perform in this role by surrendering our will and desires to His. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve resonated more fully with scriptures that once perplexed me—“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” (Galatians 2:20). “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). “I am the vine, you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5).

I suppose it’s not so strange that these verses echo more and more the longer we journey and toil and teach, the more we realize that we are inadequate to carry out the full measure of this role, but also that Christ is so adequate, uber adequate, and we are privileged to be used by Him. George Herbert, a 17th c. mystic poet, knew this. We can see it in his poem, “The Windows.”

Lord, how can man preach thy eternal word?
He is a brittle crazy glass;
Yet in thy temple thou dost him afford
This glorious and transcendent place,
To be a window, through thy grace.

But when thou dost anneal in glass thy story,
Making thy life to shine within
The holy preachers, then the light and glory
More reverend grows, and more doth win;
Which else shows waterish, bleak, and thin.

Doctrine and life, colors and light, in one
When they combine and mingle, bring
A strong regard and awe; but speech alone
Doth vanish like a flaring thing,
And in the ear, not conscience, ring.

As we begin our second quarter, it seems a good time to share this devotional our fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Bodine, wrote for our August in-service. It’s a beautiful message for both teachers and parents about the threshold of any new beginning—a new school year, a new quarter, even each new day.

Flora Whittemore (1890-1993) once wrote, “The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live.”

Whittemore, a U.S. historian, writer, proofreader, bookkeeper, and teacher was also a life-long learner who took a correspondence course in geology from Utah State University while living in a nursing home at the age of 100. She knew the weight and promise of a threshold. She understood that the seemingly small acts of opening a door to a study, a lecture, or a conversation could change a person’s entire trajectory. She believed that life-altering events often begin in what appear to be mundane moments. Her quote reminds us that what happens at a door is not passive; it is an active choice that leads to a particular path.

As educators, we stand at such a door. Our classroom door is not just a point of entry; it is a gateway. And we, the teachers, are the gatekeepers. Our presence, our attitude, and our intentions will determine what kind of world they enter. Our classrooms are poised to become places of learning, of discovery, and of growth. It is a garden, and we are its keepers.

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Our Parent Partnership focus for the year is a close examination of the place of technology in our lives. We are asking each staff member and parent to read Childhood Unplugged by Katherine Martinko. At our recent Donuts with Dad/VIP event, one of our board members, Austin Hakes, shared the impact the book has had on him. If you did not hear his brief reflection, we encourage you to read it below.

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It was our pleasure to welcome Fr. Anthony Gilbert of St. George Orthodox Christian Church to speak to us on the virtue of Courage in the Christian life. His message is well worth repeating. You can read it in full below.

Trinitas Chapel Talk on COURAGE
Fr Anthony Gilbert

Good morning to you all! It’s a joy to see you this morning. The virtue of this season
is courage and so I want to speak with you this morning about courage and also
about fear. My little reflection will have two parts. In part I we’ll hear from Jesus
about courage and fear, and in part II we’ll try to apply courage practically.

There are several important places in the Gospels where Jesus responds to peoples’
fear, and shows that faith helps us find courage. In the midst of His ministry on
earth, Jesus taught His disciples and the people many things about how to live a
faithful life. Sometimes we may forget that God loves us and that He is always near
to us, watching and protecting us. But He does, and He is! Here’s how Jesus puts it:
“Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? And not one of them falls to the
ground apart from your Father’s will. But the very hairs of your head are all
numbered. Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.”

Here’s the first lesson, then, for us: we need not fear because God loves us.

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There is a special kind of joy that comes from being part of an educational community rich in beautiful material and interdisciplinary discoveries. I recently had a delightful conversation with a Trinitas teacher about connections between our Thoughtful Reader Book Club author, Mrs. Tellinghuisen’s recent Lenten reflection, and our Virtue of the Quarter. If you are curious how these fit together, read on! 

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