Humbly humble

Pride makes us artificial and humility makes us real – Thomas Merton

I never envied the lifestyle of celebrities. So often they are kept at such a distance from the public it can easily seem like they are not real and only magically surface on the big screen. Since living in Africa, I have sometimes compared my life to that of a celebrity, minus the salary: people gawking at you, shouting your name, random strangers wanting to take photos with you, being given the best seat forcing others to move or even stand for your sake, and people wanting to touch your skin and hair just to make sure it is real. Coming from a culture of individualism and personal space, sometimes this is hard for me to take gracefully and honestly, sometimes it is quite exhausting. There are many moments where I just want to be a nobody. I want to sit in the back unnoticed, walk down the street unbothered and untouched.

I have recently started attending the local church. I am doing this for two reasons: the first is to maintain a habitual element of my life in a environment and work of frequent chaos and also to establish a (spiritual) community outside of the compound where I work and live day in and day out. The first time I went was last week. There are some elements that you can count on always being the same no matter where you are that immediately allow you to step into something familiar and comfortable.

The most famous and still practiced custom of humility in the christian faith is that of washing feet in the service of communion. I have participated in this tradition in six countries : Tanzania, Madagascar, the Bahamas, Kenya, United States, and now DR Congo. Each country adds their own cultural flare but for the most part you know the order of things and how it will all take place regardless of the language being spoken. This weekend proved no different.

Fortunately this celebrity treatment is toned down slightly when I walk into this sacred space but it never is lost completely. Church is often the place where I wish the most that I could loose my white skin, blond hair, funny accent, and just become one of the rest. However, this was not going to happen this time especially because it was communion day. At first I was not going to participate in foot washing just because I knew what to expect and didn’t want to deal with it, not today. But like so many other times, I do things as a witness to others around me that I am a real person just like everyone else. The white people who have come before or who are seen on TV often misrepresent the white population as a whole and I find myself trying to reverse it for my own sake and perhaps for those who will come after me.

So in an effort to do this, I allowed myself to be led by a woman I had never met before but soon learned her name is Denise. We wandered behind the Church where the other women were gathered on small benches while others squatted at their feet participating in this universal ceremony. Many were quite shocked by my presence and soon the crowd grew attracting other women, children, and neighbors to witness this momentous event take place. When Denise reached for my foot the whole mass held their breath and once they were assured my foot wasn’t going to break or melt into her hand, they all started to laugh in excitement. It was even more of a circus when Denise and I traded places and now it was the white girl's turn to kneel on the ground and wash the foot of a stranger. Afterwards, Denise asked me to pray and insisted that it be in French; this being the first time I have ever prayed in French. Once retreating back to a seat inside the sanctuary, I thought I was safe but then only a few seconds later one of the ladies came back to ask me to take a photo with them. We returned to the now muddy foot washing site crammed on beaches made for 4 year old's, bodies pressing me on all sides, and my hair stroked by hands that were just seconds before washing the feet of those sitting beside me, all the while smiling for the camera man.

While going through these motions, I thought how ironic it was to be performing this religious act of humility while at the same time practicing a great deal of humility. Humility isn’t easy. It is many virtues rolled into one: patience, grace, joy, and selflessness – all of which in and of themselves are very challenging. But after this experience, I think Thomas Merton is right: "Pride makes us artificial and humility makes us real." Despite how awkward these few moments might have been for me, I know I was humbled and I hope in effect made real to those around me.