Children Of God Series

When I was a student at Bethel, Lavonne and I were invited as

honorary guests to a banquet held each year for students near the

top of their graduating class in the colleges and law schools of St.

Paul. I was delighted with this opportunity, and it was with a real

sense of satisfaction that I put on my best clothes, and headed for the

hotel in downtown St. Paul to meet my sponsor. Each student was

the guest of a sponsor who bought their tickets, and we were to be at

the same table with our sponsor to give the whole affair a personal

touch.

Lavonne and I walked around a bit and marveled at the beauty of

the setting. We were quite excited to be in such an expensive

atmosphere. We were always several hundred dollars behind in our

bills that we owed to Bethel, and so our experience of eating in fancy

hotels was somewhere around zero. When we splurged, we went to

The Flame Burger instead of McDonalds. The point is, this was a

unique and exciting experience, and we were impressed.

Then the pin and bubble met. Our sponsor found us at the

appointed place, and we introduced ourselves. Then he said that his

family was from such and such a line of descendants going back for

centuries, and his father was some prominent person in the

community. Then he asked where my family was from, and what

my father did. I was surprised by the question, and puzzled. I didn't

see the relevance of it at all. I stammered out something to the effect

that my father worked in a meat packing plant, and that all I know

about my ancestors was that my grandfather had been a farmer.

There was a wall between us immediately, for he had apparently

expected to spend the evening comparing which of us had the most

dukes in our family tree. I thought it was rather unmannerly of

him to wave his pedigree before us before he found out if I was also

a nobleman like himself. The result was a rather boring evening,

probably typical of other such encounters of pauper and prince.

The point of all this autobiographical introduction is that I in my

first encounter with strong family pride was made to feel

embarrassed. His boasting of his superior heritage made me feel

aggravated. In analyzing the situation I have concluded that the

problem did not consist in his pedigree, but in his pride which was

expressed in a self-exalting manner.

Certainly there is a legitimate pride to be had in one's ancestors

and line of decent, but one must be aware of the dangers of a false

pride. Plutarch wisely said, "It is indeed a desirable thing to be well

descended, but the glory belongs to our ancestors." In other words,

if we can be grateful for a good heritage, and avoid assuming the

credit for it, as if we merited such a heritage, then we are within the

bounds of true dignity. Wordsworth put it:

True dignity abides with him alone

Who in the silent hour of inward thought

Can still suspect, and still revere himself,

In lowliness of heart.

True dignity is characterized by a grateful humility, and not boastful

pride. This is where men fail and allow their good heritage

to be a liability rather than an asset. They become proud and make

others feel uncomfortable when, by humility, they could use such a

noble heritage as a subject on which to express gratitude, and to

cause others to also count their blessings. A good heritage is only of

value if it makes you a better person yourself. Even a pagan poet

can see the worthlessness of a noble family tree as an end in itself.

Juvenal said to one who was falsely proud:

Your ancient house! No more-I cannot see

The wondrous merits of a pedigree;

No, Ponticus, nor of a proud display

Of smoky ancestors in wax or clay.

Sir Thomas Overbury adds this remark against the boasters:

"The man who has not any thing to boast of but his illustrious

ancestors is like a potato, the only good belonging to him is

underground." Unless there is fruit above ground in one's own life,

you merit no praise or credit for your family tree, and if there is

fruit in your life because of them, the glory is to be shared with them

in grateful humility.

Now you might say that I have spent a lot of time proving a point

that might be of use to those of noble birth, but what good is this to

us who have no noble pedigree, and who have every reason to be

humble because there is nothing of note of which to be proud?