DOWN HOME: Humble pie with side of broccoli_120803

Posted: 12/05/03

DOWN HOME:
Humble pie with side of broccoli

A fun old song (I think I remember hearing the “world famous” Hardin-Simmons University Cowboy Band sing it at basketball games years ago) proudly proclaims, “O Lord, it's hard to be humble when you're perfect in every way.”

The Cowboy Band, a rowdy outfit that raised irony and sarcasm to a fine art, usually sang that song after an opponent made a bad play. Sort of like how they always warbled, “The old gray mare ain't what she used to be” after an opponent fouled out.

Unfortunately, I've never needed the Cowboy Band to prompt me down the path from pride to humility. The Lord has used petty little circumstances of life to do the trick.

MARV KNOX Editor

One of the earliest happened when I was a preacher boy in the Panhandle, on a hot summer night in an old country church.

During the song service, I'd noticed winged grasshoppers flitting around the lights. During my sermon, I noticed something brown crawling on my lapel. Not wanting to detract from my scintillating sermon, I casually reached up and plucked it off my jacket.

Instantly, I forgot my next point, as pain radiated out from my palm and up my arm. I realized my next point didn't matter that much, because everyone in the room knew exactly what I had done. Their thoughts focused more on the foolishness of a boy who picks up wasps than on the meaning of our Bible text.

Years later, I met the famous journalist Bill Moyers at the end of a banquet where he was the featured speaker. As we visited, I felt the sensation of a single broccoli fleurette floating across my front teeth. I couldn't remove it, no matter how I ran my tongue over my teeth. In that moment, I hoped Moyers forgot my name as soon as we parted.

Not long ago, I preached at our church, First Baptist in Lewisville. The sound technicians had me use a microphone that clipped over my ear and lay against my cheek. During the final announcements, I removed the mike. Then folks came up to shake my hand and offer encouragement. After about 15 or 20 people came by, a friend asked, “Have you started wearing your glasses on the outside of your ears?” There I'd been, talking to all those people while the left temple of a very light pair of eyeglasses stuck out on the side of my head.

Recently, after a lovely banquet in Dallas, another friend reached up and brushed my beard. He didn't say anything, but I don't think we'd just had a rare bonding moment. I think I'd been walking around with fuzz on my face, and not the kind I can shave.

The Book of James says, “Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up.” While I'm not sure if this is what James had in mind, I'm glad the Lord loves me, no matter what kind of impression I make, and even with a wasp in my hand, broccoli on my teeth, glasses askew and fuzz on my face.