Why the strong don’t brag and meekness is strength

Many years ago when I was in seminary and still thought it was fun to constantly debate obscure theological points, I had an argument with a friend over, well, some obscure theological point. I didn’t think he had actually read the full text of the obscure theological point in question and proudly proclaimed that I had, in fact, read it. The response, which I cannot help but smile whenever I recall it: “One ought not brag that he knows how to read.”

The witticism stopped me mid-sentence. It was true. I was trying to win an argument by asserting an unrelated fact instead of actually listening to what my friend was saying.

A strong person never brags about being strong. A smart person doesn’t have to remind everyone all the time about how educated he is or about how many obscure texts he’s read. A nice person doesn’t have to constantly insist that he’s “a pretty nice guy.” If these things are true, then everyone already knows. The brag is a sure indicator that the reality doesn’t align. The truth is much quieter and assured.

Self-confidence and self-possession don’t dominate a discussion, or boast and loudly insist. The surest sign of a confident person is actually a gentle and unassuming sensibility, which can be identified as the virtue of meekness. That sounds strange to say because we associate meekness with the exact opposite personality traits. We think the meek lack self-confidence. The meek are unassuming, average, without much to offer, perhaps down on their luck and in need of assistance. The meek are the ones who need protection, lack assertiveness, and have very little in the way of ambition or gifts. Right?

As my opening anecdote makes clear, I am not a naturally meek person. I’m arrogant and argumentative. For years, I didn’t realize I was being so noisy as a cover-up for inadequacies so well-hidden I hardly recognized they existed. I was confusing aggressiveness with confidence. In fact, I was bluffing (partly even bluffing myself). I thought I had to act strong because, inside, the reality is that I am weak.

The meek are the strong. This is illustrated beautifully in a poem by Mary Karr, Who the Meek Are Not, in which she employs the image of a great stallion as a description of meekness:

Karr has done her research, because the word “meek” comes into English from the Greek word prautes, meaning to not be easily provoked. A praus is a spirited-but-trained horse. In other words, meekness is a majestic creature who could run the fields with head held high, masterless and fighting for its own destiny. Instead, it obediently accepts a saddle and rider.

If you’ve ever watched young children ride horses at the stable, the power dynamic is fascinating. The horses are physically superior, but they gently allow even the smallest children to command them. The horses lose nothing of their strength in doing so. Quite the opposite: In their meekness they are made even more majestic, because they display the ability to master their power through self-possession.

In St. Louis where I live, there’s a sculpture of King Louis IX on his warhorse outside the art museum. Every time I look at it, I appreciate the stallion more. In his meekness, he receives the honor of carrying a mighty king into battle.

Meekness is a somewhat abstract idea. We have trouble visualizing it. That’s why I like Karr’s poem so much. The poetic image of the stallion provides clues on how to actually become more meek. The stallion embodies obedience to a legitimate higher authority, slowness to anger, and not being easily provoked.

A meek person obeys his parents, government, Church teaching, and God. He also exercises prudence about when best to remain quiet, listen more, and keep an open mind. To accomplish this, he needs to moderate anger and emotional outbursts.

A meek person practices these habits regardless of whether other people deserve it or not. For instance, a meek person obeys the government even when he dislikes the current political leaders, and submits even to Church teaching when it’s difficult and counter-cultural.

One of the habits I’m trying to practice is listening patiently to people even if I think they’re wrong or their way is not as good as mine. It’s okay to let other people lead sometimes and I lose nothing by it. Quite the opposite, I gain a new perspective.

We lose nothing at all by practicing meekness. Initially, I thought meekness would exact a much higher cost. I thought I would be giving up part of myself to moderate my opinions and defer to others, but all I really sacrificed was a little pride and unhealthy attachment to hearing my own voice. I gave away these little sacrifices, but in return I received self-possession, uncovered areas where I lacked confidence, learned humility, and (I hope) became more likable. I prefer this over the sort of person I used to be, so I’m working to become more meek.

This hasn’t made me weaker. Like a warhorse with ears pricked forward, ready for the next command, it has made me stronger. There’s a good reason that Jesus says the meek will inherit the earth.