Musial, Good Friday and Humility

Since the passing of St. Louis legend Stan Musial, I’ve pondered the question of just how it is that one sports figure could come to be so exceptionally admired and beloved. Though Musial was one of the greatest ballplayers of all time, all St. Louisans know that our admiration had even more to do with his character.

Perhaps the overriding quality that most enthralled us was his humility. One of the many depictions of this trait came from Post-Dispatch columnist Bryan Burwell’s description of how Musial would respond to the constant swarm of people seeking his autograph, “… Musial would smile at them and thank them for wanting his autograph as if the honor was all his instead of the other way around.”

When an accomplished or powerful person exudes authentic humility and respect for those of “lesser” perceived status, our admiration invariably swells. But it’s significant to recognize this was not always the case.

In the ancient world, humility was actually seen as a negative, according to historian John Dickson, author of "Humilitus," a study on the history of the concept. Humility before the Gods or emperors was advisable because they could kill you. But humility before an equal or lesser was morally suspect and even shameful.

In sixth-century B.C. Greece, an extensive list was produced of 147 traits constituting the ethical life. The concept of humility is glaring by its absence. Aristotle spoke disparagingly of the trait,

“… those who humble themselves ... seem to admit being inferiors and inferiors are afraid.”

Rather than extolling humility, the ancients promoted the pursuit of unbridled honor. Aristotle specified the types of tangible honors a noble man should seek, including statues in their likeness, memorial inscriptions, public awards, land grants, front seats at festivals and more.

Many such things were bestowed on “Stan the Man.” But unlike Musial, “Aristotle’s ‘great souled man’ is extremely proud,” noted philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre.

First-century Greek philosopher Plutarch even wrote a lengthy “advice column” on how to effectively praise yourself. “Greeks and Romans prized honor above virtually everything else,” notes the Oxford Classical Dictionary.

But something changed.

A few years ago, a research project at Macquarie University in Australia explored the origins of humility as a social virtue. The study concluded that the fondness in Western culture for humility derives ultimately from one historical figure — Jesus of Nazareth. Macquarie is a secular, public research university. The conclusion of the study is a purely historical one.

In the first century, Jesus gained a following in a corner of the honor-obsessed Roman empire. Yet the historical records reflect that his behavior and teachings dripped with the quality of humility.

In one tender scene during the sad hours just before his arrest and crucifixion, Jesus disrobed, took a pan of water and began to wash the filthy road grime from all 12 of his disciples’ sandled feet. Foot washing was a common practice, but it was unheard of for a person’s feet to be washed by an equal, let alone a superior.

After Jesus’ deed, he probed, “Do you understand what I have done for you? You call me teacher and lord, and you are right, for so I am. If I then, the lord and the teacher, washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet” (John 13:13-17).

On another occasion, calling his followers attention to the age-old ethic of eschewing humility and seeking honor, he admonished, “it is not this way among you, but whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you shall be slave of all.”

Referring to his approaching crucifixion, he said, “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many” (Mark 10:42-44).

Crucifixion was the greatest horror and shame imaginable, in which the victim, having been ruthlessly beaten, was hung naked to be publicly mocked. It was so demeaning no Roman citizen was allowed to be crucified.

But now, Jesus, who claimed to be divine, pointed to the spectacle of his death on the cross in payment for the guilt of humanity as the ultimate example of what constitutes true greatness and honor —humble, sacrificial service to others.

This changed everything.

From the time of his crucifixion, and with the explosive multiplication of believers in his resurrection, the ethic of humble service to all people began to take hold. Out of this sprang charities for the poor, foundling homes and orphanages, schools for those of all classes, hospices and hospitals.

Humble service to others was becoming something to which one would aspire.

Undeniably, there have been those since who have dominated others under the symbol of the cross in blatant contradiction to its true implications. But at the occasion of his disciples’ foot washing, Jesus cautioned that the mark of his true followers is not in the theory, but in the actual practice of humility.

“If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them,” he said (John 13:17).

Dickson wrote, ‘While we certainly don’t need to follow Christ to appreciate humility or to be humble, it is unlikely that any of us would aspire to this virtue were it not for the historical impact of his crucifixion on art, literature, ethics, law and philosophy.”

If we are inspired by the humility of great, accomplished people like Stan Musial, we should recognize that, though temperament may come into play, it has more to do with his having absorbed the ideal of a culture that has had its ethical fiber rewoven by Jesus. The cross of Christ effects all of us — believer and nonbeliever -- more than we imagine. This Good Friday we do well to rub our eyes and take another look.