Failure is not an option.

Of all the things that someone could be afraid of, I’ve never been afraid of much. I have never had any phobias. I’m not afraid of snakes, spiders, thunderstorms, and darkness does not bother me. I don’t get nauseas very easily, and I enjoy the occasional horror movie. But I have learned that I have one great fear in my life. I am afraid of failure.

Growing up, I remember feeling a heavy sense of expectation on all that I did. I was taught to do everything to the best of my ability, and that something wasn’t worth doing if it wasn’t worth doing right. I am grateful for having been raised with this mentality. It’s caused me to become who I am today. But with everything in life, it comes with its demons, so to speak.

My desire to be successful in all that I do effects how I see myself and interact with others. When I place such heavy expectations on my performance, I become frustrated when the outcome is not what I desire it to be, even if it is out of my control. Because I can’t risk defeat, I must ensure that I have control and influence over every detail that might affect the outcome. Unfortunately, this often comes at the cost of monopolizing tasks and manipulating others. But I have learned something about failure.

Failure is realistic. And more than that, failure holds the intrinsic possibility of growth. We learn more from our failures than anything else. If we define success as task achievements, than we are going to be disappointed a lot. Life will happen, beyond our control. But if the growth, learning, and personal development of ourselves and others is what is important to us, than our failure means our success. How sad it is that we live under the expectation of perfection. We are slaves to perfect performance, perfect attendance, perfect bodies, and perfect relationships. Our culture says that in order to be successful, we have to feed into this expectation. But it is the very drive for success that is causing us to fail. We cannot live in this shadow.

May we realize and embrace the growth in our failures.

Pridefully Humble

So a lot has been going on in the two weeks since I arrived in Brooklyn. I just finished my two weeks of training, and the first teen group is arriving tomorrow. My schedule has been jam packed with visiting partnering ministry sites, training, and learning the subway systems and boroughs. I’ve only been here for 14 days, and I feel like I’ve seen most of NYC (though this is far from true). All throughout this time though, I have been hit over and over with realizations concerning myself, ministry, people, the church, and God.

One of the things that I have been thinking about lately is humility. In a city where “look out for yourself” is the theme of daily life, what does it look like to be humble? When I look at myself, I seem pretty humble (as oxymoronic as that sounds…and it should). I am often willing to give of my own time and resources for others. In years past, I would volunteer my summers to work at a camp for youth. I am normally willing to share what I have with others. When the earthquake struck Haiti, I sold one of my guitars and gave the money to the relief effort. I always strive to go the extra mile for others, and I even enjoy doing it. But two recent events gave me a different understanding of humility.

I was exploring a neighborhood in the Lower East Side with a few other interns last week. We were trying to become familiar with what social resources were available in the area. We came upon a young guy and girl who were cleaning out the van which they lived in. It was close to dinner time, so I asked them both if they knew of any soup kitchens in the area. They said no, but offered me what little food they had available. I promptly declined and explained that I was not hungry, but was looking into what resources were available in that community.

Later that evening, we met a man who was hungry and sitting outside a church. We offered to take him to a local spot and buy him pizza. After walking a few blocks, we arrived and offered to buy him as much pizza as he wanted. However, he insisted that he only wanted one slice; though I knew he hadn’t eaten in a while. He wouldn’t even accept a few dollars that we offered him. I couldn’t understand why he refused to accept all the things we offered him. It wasn’t until later that day when it hit me. It was pride. No matter what the rationale behind it, this man couldn’t accept everything we offered because it would infringe on his pride.

This brought me back to the young couple in the van. They were willing to give what they had to meet my need. But I refused. I had all kinds of reasoning behind why I said what I did. They need it more than I do, I can find food for myself, and I don’t want to inconvenience them. But when it comes down to it, I had a need, and they offered to be the means to meet it. The only thing that was in the way was my pride.

So many times, I have seen the word humility defined as something like “being ready and willing to give.” But humility also means being ready and willing to receive. Humility is freeing oneself from arrogance and pride, no matter what form it may take. Maybe this is what Jesus was getting at when he told Peter, “If I you do not let me wash your feet, you have no part with me.” Yes, Jesus said that it is better to give than to receive, but it’s not always easier. It’s hard to receive because it means that we have a need. And nobody (no matter what economic status) likes to admit that they have a need. How interesting it is that so many people have equated humility with giving. It’s easy to feel good about yourself when you give. But it’s quite another thing to feel good about yourself when you acknowledge that you are “needy.” In order to avoid this feeling, we continue to live generously and “bless” others in our fake framework of humility. We are pridefully humble.