Humility and Human Flourishing A Study in Analytic Moral Theology Michael W Austin Full Chapter

Humility and Human Flourishing : A
Study in Analytic Moral Theology

Michael W. Austin
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OXFORD STUDIES IN ANALYTIC THEOLOGY
Series Editors
Michael C. Rea Oliver D. Crisp
O X F O R D S T U DI E S I N AN A L YT I C T H E OL OGY
Analytic Theology utilizes the tools and methods of contemporary

analytic philosophy for the purposes of constructive Christian
theology, paying attention to the Christian tradition and develop-
ment of doctrine. This innovative series of studies showcases
high-quality, cutting-edge research in this area, in monographs
and symposia.
PUBLISHED TITLES INCLUDE:
Metaphysics and the Tri-Personal God

William Hasker
The Theological Project of Modernism
Faith and the Conditions of Mineness
Kevin W. Hector
The End of the Timeless God
R. T. Mullins
Ritualized Faith
Essays on the Philosophy of Liturgy
Terence Cuneo
In Defense of Conciliar Christology
A Philosophical Essay
Timothy Pawl
Atonement
Eleonore Stump
Humility, Pride, and Christian Virtue Theory
Kent Dunnington
Humility and
Human Flourishing
A Study in Analytic Moral Theology
MICHAEL W. AUSTIN
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This book is dedicated to Lewis Winkler, Dave Dishman,

Terry McKinney, and Dave Leedy, good friends and mentors.
Acknowledgments
I have greatly benefitted from the help of many people, who offered
their expertise and assistance to me as I worked on this volume.
Thanks to Ian Church, Taya Cohen, Terence Cuneo, Trent Dougherty,
Doug Geivett, Angela Knobel, Cristian Mihut, Christian Miller, Nancy
Snow, James Spiegel, Rebecca Stangl, and two anonymous referees
for Oxford University Press. Thanks as well to the staff at Oxford
University Press, including Tom Perridge, Karen Raith, and the others
who helped create the final product. Finally, many thanks go to my wife
Dawn, and my daughters Haley, Emma, and Sophie, for the years of
listening to me talk about the book, and for their encouragement
and love.
I am also grateful for the permission of the following publishers,
allowing me to make use of my work contained in the following
materials:
“Is Humility a Virtue in the Context of Sport?” Journal of Applied
Philosophy 31 (2014): 203–14. Permission granted by Wiley-
Blackwell.
“Defending Humility: A Philosophical Sketch with Replies to Tara
Smith and David Hume,” Philosophia Christi 14 (2012): 461–70.
Permission granted by the journal. More information about the
journal can be found at www.epsociety.org.
“Christian Humility as a Social Virtue,” in Character: New Directions
from Philosophy, Psychology, and Theology, Christian Miller,
Angela Knobel, R. Michael Furr, and William Fleeson, eds (Oxford
University Press, 2015), pp. 333–50. Permission granted by Oxford
University Press.
This volume was made possible through support of a grant from the
Character Project at Wake Forest University and the John Templeton
Foundation. The opinions expressed in this book are those of the
author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Character
Project, Wake Forest University, or the John Templeton Foundation.
I am grateful for the support.
Contents
1. Philosophy, Theology, and Christian Virtue 1

2. A Christian Account of Humility 20
3. Theological and Philosophical Objections 92
4. Humility and Human Flourishing 137
5. Contemporary Applications 178
6. Conclusion: Summary and a Brief Reflection on John 13 217
Appendix: The Modules of Christian Humility 225

Bibliography 227
Scripture Index 240
Index 242
Philosophy, Theology, and

Christian Virtue
Humility is a complex, controversial, and misunderstood virtue. People

conceive of the nature and value of this trait in a variety of ways. There
are distinct and sometimes mutually inconsistent philosophical and
theological accounts of this virtue. There are also different folk under-
standings of what humility is and what it requires. One common view
of Christian humility is that it involves having a low view of oneself. On
this view, the humble person has low self-esteem, and perhaps a very
low regard for her interests. The humble person should not be assertive,
but rather passive and submissive. I will argue that this view is mistaken,
and contrasts in significant ways with a proper Christian conception of
the virtue of humility.
This diversity of opinion with respect to humility is perhaps rein-
forced by the fact that philosophers past and present have expressed
skepticism concerning its status as a virtue. For example, humility does
not have a place in Aristotle’s catalogue of the virtues. David Hume
expresses deep skepticism about humility’s status as a virtue, and asserts
that it is a moral vice. Contemporary philosopher Tara Smith argues
that pride, and not humility, is a virtue.1
Within the Christian tradition, however, many take humility to play
a central role in the moral and spiritual life. The virtue of humility
is also emphasized in different parts of the Bible, sometimes quite
strongly. In Numbers 12:3, the author states that “the man Moses
was very humble, more so than anyone else on the face of the earth,”
and subsequently records Yahweh’s confrontation of Aaron and Miriam
for speaking against Moses. Humility is also a trait that God is said
1
I discuss the views of Hume and Smith in chapter 3.
2 Humility and Human Flourishing

to reward (see Proverbs 22:4). In Micah 6:8, the author states “He has
told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your
God?” Humility also appears in the gospels and many New Testament
epistles. It is described as a trait that Jesus possesses and that his
followers should exemplify.2
With respect to the meaning of humility, Stephen Pardue observes
that while it is clear that this trait is commended in both the Hebrew
Bible and Judaism more broadly, the definition of it is less clear.3
He notes that some take the Hebrew Bible to associate humility
with humiliation, while others dispute this and contend instead that
humility involves recognizing one’s dependence on God, submitting
to God, and service to others. In the Jewish tradition, humility is
taken to be an important trait for relating to God and others, includ-
ing a recognition of one’s own intellectual limitations and being
humble in one’s actions.4 Pardue also notes that those who espouse
a Christian understanding of humility in the New Testament and the
early Christian tradition “renovate humility in light of Jesus’ life and
death, transposing the rich Jewish tradition regarding the virtue and
its social, political, and theological implications into a Christocentric
key.”5 This renovated notion of humility plays a significant role in the
Christian narrative, culminating in the person and work of Christ. It
is developed in the New Testament as a central virtue for piety and
for hope in the eschaton.6 For example, humility is seen as important
for one’s relationship to God, insofar as “God opposes the proud, but
gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6). Humility also appears in some
of the New Testament virtue lists (Colossians 3:11–13; Ephesians
4:1–3). It is seen as a product of wisdom (James 3:13). The humility
of Christ is evident in the gospels. Jesus is reported as ascribing
humility to himself in Matthew 11:28–30, where he describes himself
as “humble in heart.” He exemplifies humility when he washes the feet
of his disciples (John 13:1–20). The apostle Paul urges the Philippian
church to imitate the humility of Christ in their relationships with one
another, following the pattern displayed by Jesus in his incarnation
2
For example, see Matthew 11:29, Colossians 3:12, Ephesians 4:2, 1 Peter 5:5–6,
Philippians 2:1–11, and James 4:10.
3
Stephen T. Pardue, The Mind of Christ: Humility and the Intellect in Early
Christian Theology (New York, NY: Bloomsbury T & T Clark, 2013), pp. 31–5.
4 5
See Sirach 3:17–31. Pardue, The Mind of Christ, p. 35.
6
ibid. p. 38.
Philosophy, Theology, and Christian Virtue 3

and crucifixion (Philippians 2:1–11). I engage with much of this
biblical material in more detail later in the book. At present, my point
is merely that humility appears in many places in both the Hebrew
Bible and the New Testament.
As the Christian tradition continued, many Christian thinkers devoted
attention to the virtue of humility. Augustine, for example, holds that
love is perfected in humility.7 In humility, we realize our weakness, we
come to see who and what we are, and in dependence on God we also
see that by grace we are nevertheless loved and capable of virtue.
Humility, then, is not only concerned with our limitations, but also
with God empowering us to transcend many of them in particular
ways, by grace.8 For Aquinas, humility is primarily concerned with
subjecting oneself to God, which is clearly vital for the human real-
ization of the beatific vision (partially now, fully in the hereafter).9
He maintains that humility also involves subjecting ourselves to other
human persons as appropriate, and that it includes knowledge of
one’s deficiencies. Christian monastics such as Bernard of Clairvaux,
Benedict, Bonaventure, and John Cassian also take humility to be a
virtue of central importance, and focus on its formation within monas-
tic communities.10 Benedict contends that the humble person should be
convinced that he is (in some sense) worse than everyone else.11 Saint
Gregory the Great holds that “humility is the guardian of virtue.”12
7
Augustine, The Trinity Book IV, chs 1–2. See also Book VIII, ch. 7 and Book IV,
ch. 4; and City of God, Book XIV, ch. 13.
8
Some of our creaturely limitations are to be transcended, but others not. For
example, God empowers us to transcend our selfishness, but not our finitude. For
more on the empowering aspects of humility for Augustine, see Pardue, The Mind of
Christ, pp. 145–58.
9
Aquinas, Summa Theologiae IIaIIae.161.
10
Saint Benedict, The Rule of Benedict (New York, NY: Penguin Group, 2008);
Bernard of Clairvaux, The Steps of Humility and Pride (Trappist, KY: Cistercian
Publications, 1973); Bonaventure, Bonaventure: The Soul’s Journey into God, The
Tree of Life, The Life of St. Francis (New York, NY: Paulist Press, 1978); John Cassian,
Conferences of John Cassian, Conference 14, ch. 10.
11
Benedict, The Rule of Benedict, p. 25.
12
Saint Gregory the Great, “On the Gospel (Homily 7),” http://www.lectionarycentral.
com/advent4/GregoryGreat.html. Gregory is considered a saint in both the Roman and
Eastern Orthodox traditions. Eastern Orthodox theologian Saint John Climacus extols
humility as follows: “The sun lights up everything visible. Likewise, humility is the source
of everything done according to reason. Where there is no light, all is in darkness. Where
there is no humility, all is rotten.” See Saint John Climacus, “On Humility (Step 25),”
Ladder of Divine Ascent http://www.fatheralexander.org/booklets/english/vainglory_
ladder_climacus.htm#_Toc530064365.

Teresa of Avila writes “so long as we are on this earth, nothing matters
more to us than humility.”13 In seventeenth-century England, several
Protestant theologians conceive of humility as the “chief attribute of
their religion.”14 In the late nineteenth century, South African Dutch
Reformed pastor Andrew Murray extols humility as “the only root from
which the graces can grow, the one indispensable condition of true
fellowship with Jesus.”15 Twentieth-century Roman Catholic philoso-
pher and theologian Dietrich von Hildebrand maintains that humility is
the “fountainhead of all specifically human virtues.”16 Contemporary
philosopher Paul Copan claims that Jesus exemplified humility in his
incarnation and crucifixion, and that it is a crucial virtue with respect to
our worship of God. Copan argues that humility involves a realistic
assessment of oneself, including one’s weaknesses and one’s strengths.17
Pardue offers a definition of humility as “a long term tendency to
recognize and embrace creaturely limits in such a way that, by the
working of divine grace, those limits are surpassed and expanded over
time.”18 Others could be alluded to, and there is more to say about these
accounts of humility, but my point at present is that humility is both
studied and taken to be a vital Christian virtue by a variety of Christian
thinkers across denominations, times, and cultures.
While humility holds a significant place in both Scripture and
Christian thought, and its value is proclaimed in both, it is clear
that there is some disagreement on the nature of this virtue.19 An
examination of a key biblical term translated as “humility” can be
13
St. Teresa of Avila, Interior Castle, trans. E. Allison Peers (Radford, VA: Wilder
Publications, 2008), p. 24.
14
Kari Konkola, “Have We Lost Humility?” Humanitas (2005): 183. Numerous
examples from this time period are illustrative of the prominence of humility in the
works of its theologians (many of them bestsellers at the time). For example, in The Whole
Duty of Man (1658), Richard Allestree takes humility to be the most important Christian
virtue and discusses it at length.
15
Andrew Murray, Humility (Bloomington, MN: Bethany House Publishers,
2001), p. 12.
16
Dietrich von Hildebrand, Humility: Wellspring of Virtue (Manchester, NH:
Sophia Institute Press, 1997), p. 5.
17
Paul Copan, “Divine Narcissism? A Further Defense of God’s Humility,” Philo-
sophia Christi 8 (2006): 313–25. Humility does not necessarily include a recognition of
weakness or limitation, according to Copan, but merely an accurate self-assessment.
This is why God can be humble, on his view.
18
Pardue, The Mind of Christ, p. 158.
19
Josef Pieper agrees, and notes that “the notion of humility has become blurred
even in the Christian consciousness.” See his The Four Cardinal Virtues (Notre Dame,
IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1966), p. 189.

helpful, but is not in and of itself sufficient for the clarity we need
to understand this trait. Tapeinophrosune is translated as “humility,”
but it can also be translated as “lowliness of mind.”20 This term, and
most of its cognates in both the Hebrew Bible and New Testament,
can be interpreted as describing something that is needed for a proper
relationship with God and other human beings.21
In spite of its significance and prevalence in the history of Christian
thought, many contemporary Christian reference works are either
silent or quite limited concerning humility.22 However, humility is
receiving renewed attention from some popular religious authors.23
In addition, in the wake of the revival of virtue ethics in philosophy,
some contemporary analytic philosophers have turned to an analysis
of individual virtues, including courage, compassion, and forgiveness.24
There is also a renewed interest among some of these philosophers
regarding the nature and value of humility. Some of these contem-
porary treatments of the virtue of humility are explicitly theological,
but in general this is not the case. Some offer a naturalized version of
this virtue that has long been associated in the minds of many with
Christian theism, rather than atheism or philosophical naturalism.25
Erik Wielenberg, for instance, argues that there is a naturalistic
version of humility that corresponds to Christian humility.26 Others
conflate humility with modesty.27
The primary aims of this book, then, include an explanation,
defense, and application of a Christian account of the moral virtue
of humility. I do not engage in an exhaustive linguistic study of
“humility” and its cognate terms in the Scriptures, nor do I attempt
20
Verlyn Verbrugge, New International Dictionary of New Testament Theology,
abridged edition (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2000), p. 555.
21
ibid. I examine this term in more detail in chapter 2.
22
See Konkola, “Have We Lost Humility?” for a survey of such works which
supports this claim.
23
See C. J. Mahaney, Humility: True Greatness (Colorado Springs, CO: Multnomah
Books, 2005); and John Dickson, Humilitas: A Lost Key to Life, Love, and Leadership
(Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011).
24
See Clifford Williams, ed., Personal Virtues (New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan,
2005).
25
For example, see G. Alex Sinha, “Modernizing the Virtue of Humility,” Australasian
Journal of Philosophy 90 (2012): 259–74.
26
Erik J. Wielenberg, Value and Virtue in a Godless Universe (New York, NY:
Cambridge University Press, 2005), pp. 102–16.
27
On this see Jonathan L. Kvanvig, Faith and Humility (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2018), chapter 8.

a fully comprehensive biblical or historical treatment. All of these
elements are present in the following study of humility, however, in
which I apply the methods of analytic philosophy to the field of moral
theology in order to analyze a Christian conception of this virtue. This
book, then, is best characterized as a work of analytic moral the-
ology.28 In the next section, I describe what this means.
ANALYTIC MORAL THEOLOGY
In order to understand the nature of analytic moral theology, con-

sider Michael Rea’s description of analytic theology as “the activity of
approaching theological topics with the ambitions of an analytic
philosopher and in a style that conforms to the prescriptions that
are distinctive of analytic philosophical discourse.”29 The ambitions
of the analytic philosopher include identifying the scope and limit
of our epistemic powers as well as constructing a true explanatory
theory in some area of philosophical inquiry. The analytic theologian
has the same ambitions in an area of theological inquiry. As Rea
characterizes them, the prescriptions of analytic philosophy include
a style of writing in which philosophical argumentation is made up of
formalized and logically manipulable sentences; the prioritization of
precision, clarity, and logical coherence; the avoidance of the non-
decorative use of metaphor; the employment of primitive concepts or
concepts that can be analyzed in such terms, when possible; and the
belief that conceptual analysis can serve as a source of evidence.30
Along these lines, Oliver Crisp states that:
analytic theology, like contemporary analytic philosophy, involves the use
of certain tools like logic to make sense of theological issues, where
metaphysical concerns are central. And like analytic philosophy, analytic
theology will prize intellectual virtues like clarity, parsimony of expression,
28
It could also be called “Christian moral philosophy” or “philosophical moral
theology” while still capturing what I take to be distinctive about this approach. I have
chosen “analytic moral theology” given recent developments in what is called “ana-
lytic theology.” I discuss this in the section, “Some Objections to Analytic Moral
Theology.”
29
Michael Rea, “Introduction,” Analytic Theology, Oliver Crisp and Michael Rea,
eds (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2009), p. 7.
30
ibid. pp. 5–6.

and argumentative rigour. It will also, where appropriate, seek to deal
with complex doctrinal concerns by dividing them into more manage-
able units, or focusing on providing a clear expression of theological
terms that inform particular doctrines in important respects . . . analytic
theology is about redeploying tools already in the service of philosophy
to a theological end.31
Analytic moral theology, then, involves approaching theological topics
where moral concerns are central with the ambitions of an analytic
philosopher, prizing particular intellectual virtues, and using the
analytic style of discourse.
Applying analytic methodology to topics of theological significance
is nothing new. For instance, a significant body of work in philosoph-
ical theology has emerged in recent years dealing with central Christian
doctrines such as the Incarnation and the Trinity using the methods of
analytic philosophy. However, in recent years comparatively little has
been done in the field of moral theology using those methods. Many
scholars are engaged in some form of moral theology, but compara-
tively few of them make use of the methods and tools of analytic
philosophy in their work.32 Analytic methodology is certainly not the
only methodology we should employ, but much progress has been
made in advancing a Christian understanding of God by this method-
ology via its application to doctrines such as the Incarnation and the
Trinity. Similarly, I believe that there is great potential for progress in
our understanding and application of concepts in Christian moral
theology if we approach the field with analytic ambitions and style.
This is not to belittle or question the significance of the moral reflection
that has been done and is being done by biblical scholars, theologians,
or others using non-analytic methodologies. Rather, the aim is to bring
some underutilized tools to bear on Christian moral theology. More
specifically, my aim in this book is in part to achieve greater clarity and
depth with respect to our understanding of the Christian virtue of
humility. Such moral knowledge is both theoretically significant and
practically useful, as will become clear in the pages that follow.
31
Oliver Crisp, “On Analytic Theology,” in Analytic Theology, Crisp and Rea, eds,
pp. 38–9.
32
For examples of such work, see Cristian Mihut, “Change of Heart: Forgiveness,
Resentment, and Empathy,” Philosophia Christi 14 (2012): 109–24; Robert C. Roberts,
Spiritual Emotions: A Psychology of Christian Virtues (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans,
2007); and a special issue of the journal Faith and Philosophy dealing with virtues and
virtue theories from a Christian perspective; see Faith and Philosophy 15:4 (1998).

SOME OBJECTIONS TO ANALYTIC
MORAL THEOLOGY
Given the nature and contemporary practice of analytic philosophy,

one might be concerned about applying its methods to theological and
existentially important issues concerning Christian morality and human
fulfillment. There are several concerns here. Perhaps it is unrealistic for
analytically trained philosophers to do theology, given what is required
to do it well. In addition, the tendency of analytic philosophy to focus on
theory rather than practice poses a problem for doing moral theology
with analytic philosophical methods, given that theology for many has
an essentially practical element. Others may object that the practice of
analytic moral theology is not conducive to moral and spiritual growth. It
is to these types of worries that I now turn.
William Abraham describes a potential objection to the practice of
analytic theology that can be raised from within the field of theology,
namely, that it is unrealistic for analytically trained philosophers to
engage in it well, given the variety of fields that are involved in doing
theology well: ancient and modern languages, the historical study of
the Scriptures, church history, and familiarity with other disciplines
such as sociology and psychology.33 This is perhaps especially troub-
ling for someone engaging in an analytic study of the virtue of
humility, because the charge of hubris seems appropriate to the one
who assumes that she has the requisite mastery of the relevant fields.
In reply to this concern, Marc Cortez agrees that it is unrealistic to
expect a philosopher to master all of the relevant disciplines that theo-
logians draw upon in their work.34 However, he also points out that
there is a question of fairness here. Theologians do not meet these
(unrealistic) standards; they do not master all of the relevant disciplines
and methods of study. Rather, they specialize and depend on others to
help them fill in the gaps. So while it is important to be sufficiently
equipped for the task of theological study, those who take an analytic
approach are in the same boat, i.e., they bring a variety of disciplines to
33
William J. Abraham, “Turning Philosophical Water into Theological Wine,”
Journal of Analytic Theology 1 (2013): 2–16. Abraham describes but does not offer a reply
to this objection.
34
Marc Cortez, “As Much As Possible: Essentially Contested Concepts and Analytic
Theology: A Response to William J. Abraham,” Journal of Analytic Theology 1 (2013):
17–24.

bear on the issues that are of special concern to them, and ideally
collaborate with others to help them when they venture outside their
areas of specialization. Such collaboration will take different forms, but
it is needed in an era of academic specialization.
Philosophers who engage in analytic theology can derive an import-
ant lesson here, apart from accepting the need for collaboration. They
should come to see that theology, like philosophy, has a deep and
rich history that must not be ignored by the philosopher who seeks to
engage in theological study with the tools of analytic philosophy. As
Abraham puts it, “Imagine a theologian showing up and offering to
do philosophy without serious immersion in the whole history of
philosophy (ancient, medieval, and modern), and without first-order
work in epistemology, normative ethics, metaphysics, logic, and phil-
osophy of language.”35 This goes the other way, too. Philosophers must
familiarize themselves with the relevant issues and historical develop-
ments concerning the particular theological concepts they are inter-
ested in analyzing. It is realistic to expect that philosophers who take
part in the analytic theological enterprise will immerse themselves in
the historical and contemporary theological literature to a significant
degree. They should show serious concern for and attention to the
historical development of the relevant doctrines as well as the most
significant discussions of the biblical texts related to the theological
issues they are examining.
Another reason that some may have for being skeptical about the
enterprise of analytic moral theology has to do with the emphasis on
metatheoretical rather than substantive issues present in contempor-
ary analytic philosophy. Metatheoretical questions are important,
but if the analytic moral theologian neglects substantive theological
issues, then this is problematic. In his book, Reason in Faith: On the
Relevance of Christian Spirituality for Philosophy,36 Adriaan Peperzak
observes that contemporary philosophy can be “overly-reflective”
insofar as the substantive questions philosophers ask end up being
an afterthought. Prior to addressing these questions, philosophers
“are tempted to devote ample time to defining the problem, deter-
mining the methodological requirements for a possible answer,
and critically evaluating previous approaches. Such metatheoretical
35
Abraham, “Turning Philosophical Water into Theological Wine,” p. 4.
36
Adriaan Peperzak, Reason in Faith: On the Relevance of Christian Spirituality for
Philosophy (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1999).

considerations can captivate us for so long that we have no time or
energy left for the questions themselves.”37 Related to these preoccu-
pations is “the stagnant formalism of our anthropological, ethical,
and metaphysical considerations, particularly in philosophy.”38 One
worry here is that the practice of analytic theology will lead to a focus
on metatheoretical concerns, and a neglect of substantive issues.
While metatheoretical considerations are part of the motivation for
doing analytic moral theology, a focus on them is not an end in itself.
Rather, when such a focus occurs it is a means to the end of not only
moral knowledge, but also the formation of moral character. I will
return to this later in the book. At present, the point is that analytic
moral theology, as I conceive of it, should ultimately include a signifi-
cant focus on the questions themselves: What is the aim of the moral
life, for the Christian? What is humility? What is compassion, and
how can it be cultivated? How is virtue relevant to medicine? Should
Christians endorse pacifism? In what sense is Jesus Christ a moral
exemplar? These and many other questions that concern practical
moral concerns are proper topics for study using the methods and
concerns of analytic moral theology.
Peperzak also observes that “many philosophers seem to have cut
the ties between their life and their reflection,” even though “their
pre-reflective engagements play an important role in the unfolding of
their thoughts.”39 If this separation of the practical from the theoretical
is a necessary part of the practice of analytic methods, then we should
be wary of this, given the potential for hypocrisy as well as pride yielded
by theoretical accomplishments when the fruit of such accomplish-
ments is rarely (if ever) applied to everyday life.
The proper response to this problem is to intentionally make and
preserve connections between one’s life and one’s scholarly reflec-
tions. I see nothing within analytic methodology that entails a bifur-
cation between one’s everyday life and one’s scholarship. There is
potential for both hypocrisy and pride, but the proper response is to
safeguard one’s integrity and seek the integration of theory and
practice, not to abandon theoretical reflection. The analytic moral
theologian ought to make connections between her reflection and her
own daily life when this is feasible, not only to avoid hypocrisy and
pride, but also to produce scholarship that will be useful for dealing
37 38 39
ibid. p. 26. ibid. p. 28. ibid. p. viii.

with issues concerning morality and character in everyday life. This is
one reason, among many, for engaging in analytic moral theology.
A final objection to be considered here is closely connected with
the foregoing one. It might be objected that analytic moral theology is
not conducive to moral and spiritual formation (perhaps because of
its formalism or its focus on theoretical concerns). William Wood
considers this sort of objection to analytic theology, noting that
genuine theology is essentially practical. It fosters, or at least seeks
to foster, greater love for God and others, and is connected with the
various Christian sacraments and spiritual disciplines.40 The objection
is that analytic theology (for our purposes this includes analytic moral
theology) does not exhibit these traits. It is impractical, “spiritually
sterile,”41 and therefore does not count as genuine theology.
Wood goes on to consider Michael Rea’s reply to this sort of worry.
Rea contends that the aim of both philosophy and theology should
be “clarifying, systematizing, and model-building.”42 They should
not attempt to produce a “self-contained body of wisdom”43 aimed
at spiritual or moral growth, as this would act as a rival to Scripture. For
wisdom and moral improvement, Rea advises turning to the Scriptures
rather than the work of philosophers or theologians. Wood thinks that
Rea gives too much away here. He contends that analytic theology
can be approached as a spiritual practice aimed at cultivating virtue,
including the virtue of love for God. I agree. While Rea is correct that
Scripture is central for the task of spiritual growth, it is also true that
one can make use of the fruit of analytic moral theology (and other
sources of knowledge) as a supplement to the Bible. Just as some think
of philosophy as the handmaiden of theology, I think that some of the
fruits of analytic moral theology may be employed in this context as a
handmaiden of the Scriptures, rather than a rival to them and certainly
not as a self-contained body of wisdom.
Analytic moral theology can be spiritually and morally fruitful. It
can be approached as a spiritual practice, if we possess the appropri-
ate attitude and employ it in pursuit of appropriate ends.44 Wood
points out that analytic theologizing can be done for the sake of union
40
William Wood, “Analytic Theology as a Way of Life,” Journal of Analytic
Theology 2 (2014): 43–60.
41
ibid. p. 45. 42
Rea, “Introduction,” p. 19. 43
ibid.
44
For more on this, see Wood, “Analytic Theology as a Way of Life.” Wood
discusses the ways in which philosophical theology can function as a spiritual practice
that nourishes the soul.

with God. One can produce or study analytic theology as a way of
drawing closer to God via a deeper knowledge of the character of
God. It can also lead to the acquisition of moral knowledge which is
essential for moral formation. Such knowledge is important for the
Christian with respect to humility because it is helpful for her to know
what she is aiming at as she seeks to cultivate and grow in this virtue.
Is humility a self-regarding virtue? Is it also other-regarding? Does
humility require that she always downplay her accomplishments?
Does humility involve self-denigration, or does it merely require
giving credit where credit is due? How is humility related to other
virtues, such as faith, hope, or love? The answers to such questions are
important, because they will guide one’s pursuit of this Christian
virtue, and this will have an impact on one’s character.
A Christian understanding of moral improvement will not ultimately
rest on the insights offered by Christian philosophers and theologians.
Rather, it will ultimately rest on the love, grace, and activity of God in
the life of the believer, as well as her understanding of and response to
Scripture. But there are other sources of moral and religious knowledge
that are applicable to moral and spiritual growth. As Wood points
out, who is to say what can be indirectly valuable to one’s spiritual
life? Given God’s freedom to offer his grace as he chooses, it is wrong
(and perhaps incoherent) to maintain that analytic theology cannot be
spiritually nourishing.45 In light of this, the model of humility I offer here,
insofar as it clarifies and systematizes our understanding of Christian
humility and considers the many ways in which it is relevant to everyday
life, can be used as a supplement to the Scriptures to aid the believer in her
pursuit of humility, wisdom, and a flourishing Christian life. As I analyze
the Christian virtue of humility, the foregoing considerations both
motivate and inform my approach.
THE APPROACH
In this introductory chapter, it will be useful to discuss briefly some of

the other relevant features of my approach to articulating and defend-
ing a Christian account of the virtue of humility. I take philosophical
45
ibid. pp. 46–7.

reasoning and argumentation in the analytic style to be a useful method
for acquiring knowledge, as was described above in my discussion of
analytic moral theology. I employ an analytic approach as I interact
with a variety of sources—biblical, theological, philosophical, and
empirical—in order to develop, defend, and apply a Christian account
of humility.
First, it is important to note that my focus throughout the book is,
unless otherwise explicitly stated (or when I am summarizing the views
of others concerning humility), a Christian form of the moral virtue of
humility. Given this, the explanation and defense of a Christian account
of humility I offer here assumes the truth of Christian theism. That is,
I am interested in how we ought to conceive of humility, on Christian
theism. But of course one need not accept Christian theism to find my
study of humility useful. Just as I have found naturalistic studies of
humility to be of interest,46 my hope is that those who do not affirm
Christian theism will find the arguments of this book of interest. As will
become evident, there is some overlap between my account of humility
and some non-theological accounts.
Second, I make use of the Bible as a text for philosophical analysis,
given that I am articulating and defending a Christian account of
humility.47 Consistent with the aims and scope of the project, I take
the Bible to be a potential source of knowledge, though I do not argue for
this view. I also assume the Bible’s normativity for Christian theory and
practice, without addressing other important issues related to it. For
instance, there are many ways of understanding the nature of divine
inspiration as it relates to Scripture, and many issues concerning author-
ship, dates of writing, and the reliability of the texts.48 Here, I will not
defend a particular position with respect to these issues. Rather, I merely
seek to engage the content of some of the most relevant portions of
Scripture for articulating a Christian account of humility. However, in my
appropriation of the biblical texts, I take a broadly ecumenical approach,
drawing from classic and contemporary sources, Roman Catholicism,
Eastern Orthodoxy, and a variety of Protestant traditions.
46
For example, see Wielenberg, Value and Virtue in a Godless Universe,
pp. 102–12.
47
I will be using the Protestant canon.
48
For a discussion of many of these issues by contemporary philosophical theo-
logians, see Michael Rea, ed., Oxford Readings in Philosophical Theology, Volume II:
Providence, Scripture, and Resurrection (New York, NY: Oxford University Press,
2009), chapters 6–14.

The conception of humility I offer is Christological, insofar as it is
grounded in the gospel accounts of the life of Christ and other
portions of the New Testament that are relevant to understanding
this virtue as exemplified by Jesus. It is also dependent upon particular
theological interpretations of these texts and doctrines. This approach is
a product of the conviction that the foundations of Christian ethics
must be Christological foundations; or, to put it more simply, Christian
ethics must arise from the person of Jesus Christ. Otherwise it could not
be Christian ethics in the most important sense of the term.49 Given this,
an analysis of Christian humility must centrally include an analysis of
the humility of Christ as it is described in both the Christian scriptures
and Christian theology. I will interact with many of the theological and
philosophical treatments of humility that are on offer from prominent
historical figures. However, my primary aim is not historical, insofar as
I am not delving into accounts of Augustine, Aquinas, or others in order
to give a comprehensive historical analysis of how humility has been
understood. I will interact with select historical accounts in order to
construct and clarify my account, but my primary intent is not to offer a
historical treatment of this virtue.
As I develop and defend my account of humility, I will also draw
from relevant empirical data. Such data can be useful for particular
questions in both moral philosophy and moral theology. For instance,
the plausibility of philosophical and theological accounts of character
traits and their connections to human flourishing can be enhanced
or undermined by empirical data, because the subject matter is not
merely conceptual. The application of such accounts to the everyday
lives of human beings will have empirical elements, and empirical
data may increase or decrease the level of justification that exists for
claims included in these accounts. I therefore make use of empirical
data regarding humility in my argument that it is an important
virtue for human flourishing, understood within the framework of
Christian theism. As we will see, humility plays a prominent role in
one contemporary psychological model of personality structure, the
HEXACO model.50 In addition, I make use of empirical studies
49
This is a modification of a quotation from Oliver Donovan, Resurrection and
Moral Order (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1994): “The foundations of Christian
ethics must be evangelical foundations; or, to put it more simply, Christian ethics must
arise from the gospel of Jesus Christ. Otherwise it could not be Christian ethics” (p. 11).
50
Michael Ashton and Kibeom Lee, “Empirical, Theoretical, and Practical Advan-
tages of the HEXACO Model of Personality Structure,” Personality and Social

concerning the virtue of humility as it relates to religiosity, leadership,
prosocial behaviors, emotional well-being, and its connections with
other virtues like honesty and generosity.
Another important element of the approach I employ in this study
is my placement of this trait within a Christian form of virtue ethics.
Christian theism offers a way of life in which morality plays an
essential role. Christianity is not merely about ethics, but it does
essentially include ethics. Many of the contemporary social debates
and discussions of ethics in the context of religion tend to focus on
social issues, rather than on the more general notion of a morally
excellent character. And yet it is arguably the case that character is
the fundamental ethical concern from a Christian perspective. Moral
principles, actions, and the consequences of our actions are import-
ant. However, Christianity is centrally focused on the redemption of
persons, which entails the redemption of their moral and intellectual
character. More specifically, the Christian is to exemplify, in some
analogous sense, the character traits that Jesus exemplified. Virtues
such as patience, hope, love, compassion, forgiveness, and humility
are essential for a flourishing Christian life, i.e., the abundant life that
Christ came to give (John 10:10). Moreover, 2 Peter 1 encourages
followers of Christ to become “participants of the divine nature,”
which is said to involve faith, moral excellence, knowledge, self-
control, perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness, and love. With
this in mind, the study of humility I engage in here is situated within
the normative ethical theory of virtue ethics. More specifically, the
moral framework within which my development and defense of
humility is set is a Christian virtue ethics. It will be helpful, then, to
summarize briefly a few of the main components of this normative
framework.
On virtue ethics, character is fundamental, rather than some moral
law or the consequences of actions. This is not to say that moral rules
and consequences are unimportant. But they are not foundational
in the way that character is on a virtue ethical approach. In his
argument for the claim that a virtue-based approach to the moral
life is promising as a Christian approach, Joseph Kotva draws from
Psychology Review 11 (2007): 150–66. See also http://hexaco.org/ for an overview of

the HEXACO model (so called because it includes the claim that there are six major
dimensions of human personality). This is not a Christian form of humility, though
there is significant overlap between the HEXACO conception and the one I defend.

both Christian thought and neo-Aristotelian virtue theory in order to
construct a Christian case for virtue ethics.51 As Kotva describes it, a
virtue ethic (based on Aristotle and Aquinas) is teleological, insofar as
it includes the claims that there is a human nature and a proper end
or telos for human persons. A teleological virtue ethic will include
certain prescriptions concerning the exercise of the virtues, as well as
the belief that the virtues themselves are a part of the human telos. It is
also crucial that on such a view, the human good is not merely
individual; it is also social. It involves relationships with others. On
a Christian view, it is not only relationships with other humans that
matter, but with the divine as well.
On the version of Christian virtue ethics that I employ (but do not
argue for) in this book, the human telos includes a communal union
with and likeness to God. Virtues such as patience, faith, hope, love,
compassion, and humility help us to achieve this telos and are partially
constitutive of it. A virtue is an excellence of character that is aimed
at some good end involving dispositions, beliefs, desires, emotions,
will, and action.52 Virtues are both instrumentally and intrinsically
valuable. A virtuous person is a good person, worthy of admiration
and emulation.53 So the more of these virtues that one possesses and
practices, the more deeply one will experience shalom—well-being,
inner harmony, wholeness, and a flourishing relationship with God,
others, and the rest of creation.54 In addition, Jesus is the primary
Christian moral exemplar, the perfect embodiment of the human
telos. The virtues are excellences of character that are perfectly exem-
plified by Jesus Christ. Christians will not fully achieve conformity to
51
Much of what follows is drawn from Joseph Kotva, The Christian Case for Virtue
Ethics (Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press, 1996). For a fuller account of
a Christian virtue ethics, see especially chapters 4–5 of Kotva’s book.
52
I will not address the debate surrounding the situationist challenge to virtue
ethics, though I think there are several possible replies that are consistent with a
Christian understanding of virtue and human nature. See Diana Fleming, “The
Character of Virtue: Answering the Situationist Challenge to Virtue Ethics,” Ratio
19 (2006): 24–42; Nancy Snow, Virtue as Social Intelligence (New York, NY: Routledge,
2010); and Christian Miller, Character and Moral Psychology (New York, NY: Oxford
University Press, 2014).
53
See Rosalind Hursthouse, On Virtue Ethics (New York, NY: Oxford University
Press, 1999), pp. 10–15; and Robert C. Roberts and W. Jay Wood, Intellectual Virtues
(New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2007), pp. 59–84.
54
On shalom, see David H. Stern, Jewish New Testament Commentary (Clarksville,
MD: Jewish New Testament Publications, 1992), pp. 39, 107, and 200–1.

Christ in this life, but believe that by God’s grace they can make
significant progress.
It is important to emphasize that a virtue ethical approach to
morality is not reducible to mere rules, because treating virtues as
moral rules can lead to confusion. This is not to deny that rules can
be useful. However, on virtue ethics moral rules are often rules of thumb
based on previous experiences and decisions that exemplified wisdom.
As Kotva puts it, rules “provide a reference point of previous good
judgments.”55 These rules can be overridden if the circumstances
require it. Because of this, the definition of humility I give in this book
cannot be reduced to a rule or moral principle that one must always
follow. A proper appreciation of this fact will prevent much potential
misunderstanding that is a product of what Kotva calls “the enlighten-
ment’s legacy,” which “is a vision of ethics that seeks formal elegance
and an almost geometric clarity [involving] impartiality, universality,
systematization, and a deductive calculus.”56 This legacy contrasts with
ethics as they are found in the Christian scriptures and Christian
theology. For Kotva, Scripture and theology exemplify a “messy
complexity”57 and are subjective insofar as they are prudential relative
to one’s particular circumstances.
Nevertheless, we can still profit from an analysis of individual
virtues, such as humility. The salient point is that the definition and
analysis of humility offered in the pages that follow is not a virtue
ethical analog to the categorical imperative or principle of utility.
Even though I employ an analytic approach, which has some features
in common with the Enlightenment’s legacy criticized by Kotva, there
will still be concerns related to individual circumstances that inform
the ways in which humility is (or is not) relevant and its possible
applications. An analytic approach to the nature, value, and application
of the virtue of humility will be fruitful, but not in the way that an
understanding and application of the principle of utility is fruitful.58
However, the approach I employ does include the belief that there is
a degree of impartiality, systematization, and universality that may
be achieved via the application of some of the methods of analytic
philosophy to the study of moral theology, including the study of the
virtue of humility.
55 56
Kotva, The Christian Case for Virtue Ethics, p. 35. ibid. p. 157.
57 58
ibid. These issues are discussed in greater detail in chapter 2.

Finally, I take it that whatever else it includes, being a follower of
Christ includes the imitation of Christ motivated by both the love of
God and one’s love for God. Following Christ essentially includes
seeking to imitate Christ as one means of conformity to Christ and
experiencing a deeper union with him. The follower of Christ seeks to
(analogically) think, feel, and act as she imagines Jesus would were he
in her particular circumstances, consistent with his teachings and
example.59 The moral virtue of humility is central to the character
of Christ, as we will see. Given this, it is of central importance for
union with and likeness to Christ.
OVERVIEW OF THE BOOK
In this study, I articulate, defend, and consider several applications of

a Christian account of the virtue of humility. In Chapter 2 I explain
and offer an initial defense of a Christian conception of humility that
is biblically grounded, theologically informed, and philosophically
sound. I interact with the views of several philosophers and theolo-
gians who have offered a variety of accounts of the virtue of humility.
While I do not engage in a comprehensive overview of every account
of humility that is on offer, I reference and discuss other views, both
classic and contemporary, as I explain and defend the account I favor.
In Chapter 3, I consider several objections to my account, both to
offer a defense against such objections and to develop my view further
in dialogue with alternative perspectives concerning the nature and
value of humility. I first consider three theological objections that
could be raised against my account of humility. Next, I answer several
philosophical objections to my account of humility. I conclude that
none of these objections are successful.
In Chapter 4 I explore several ways in which humility is conducive
to human flourishing. I claim that humility is rational, benefits its
possessor, and contributes to its possessor being good qua human.
59
I discuss this more fully in chapter 3. For a defense of the claim that Christians
ought to seek to imitate Christ, see Klaus Issler, “Jesus’ Example: Prototype of the
Dependent, Spirit-Filled Life,” in Jesus in Trinitarian Perspective: An Introductory
Christology, ed. Fred Sanders and Klaus Issler (Nashville, TN: B & H Academic, 2007),
pp. 189–225.

I also show how humility plays a variety of positive roles with respect
to the other virtues, undermines the vice of pride, and plays a key role
in the process of theosis (a particular view of Christian moral and
spiritual growth).
In Chapter 5, I consider how the Christian virtue of humility is
applicable to issues in personal and social ethics. This chapter demon-
strates several ways in which humility can be robustly action-guiding.
This constitutes a strong piece of evidence against the persistent
objection to virtue ethics that it fails to provide such guidance. First,
I examine some of the ways in which humility is relevant to several of
the classic spiritual disciplines, such as prayer, fasting, solitude, silence,
and service. Next, I consider humility’s relevance to issues related to
religious pluralism and tolerance. I then discuss a variety of ways in
which humility is essential for a flourishing family life. I conclude the
chapter by arguing that humility is a virtue in the context of sport.
Finally, I conclude the book with a summary of its main points and a
brief meditation on the portion of John’s gospel in which Jesus washes
the feet of his disciples. I have also included an appendix listing the
modules of humility I describe in chapter 2, which is intended to be a
helpful reference tool for reading subsequent chapters of the book.
It is to an initial explanation of Christian humility and an analysis of
these modules that we now turn.
A Christian Account of Humility
In this chapter, I offer an analysis of a Christian conception of the

moral virtue of humility, applying the methods of analytic philosophy
to the field of moral theology for the sake of developing and defending
a thick understanding of this important virtue. With this aim in mind,
in what follows I make use of biblical texts, theology, philosophy, and
some relevant empirical data. Perhaps most importantly, the account
I develop is Christological, insofar as it is grounded in the gospel
accounts of the life of Christ and other portions of the New Testament
that are relevant to understanding humility as it is exemplified by Jesus
in these texts. As I stated in chapter 1, Christian ethics must arise
from the person of Jesus Christ. Given this, a Christian understanding
of the moral virtue of humility must arise from an analysis of the
humility of Jesus.
First, consider a common understanding of the virtue of humility,
which includes the claim that it involves having a low view of one’s
self. What does it mean to have such a view? Some contend that the
humble person thinks that neither she nor her accomplishments are
worth very much.1 The humble person will be hesitant to take risks,
eschew ambition, and have relatively low aspirations because of her
low self-esteem or self-regard. The humble individual will deflect and
perhaps reject any praise of her character, accomplishments, and
talents. Humility, so understood—if it involves certain unreasonable
forms of devaluing one’s self, of underestimating one’s own abilities
and worth—is problematic, for reasons that will be made clear in
what follows.
1
For example, see Tara Smith’s criticism of humility in “The Practice of Pride,” in
Personal Virtues, ed. Clifford Williams (New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005),
pp. 90–116.
A Christian Account of Humility 21

Many within the Christian tradition espouse views of humility that
include having a low view of one’s self, in some sense. Whether or not
these views are problematic depends on whether or not they include a
devaluing or underestimation of one’s self. It is one thing to have a
low view of one’s self because one is sinful, but it is quite another to
see one’s self as lacking the value one has as an image-bearer of God
or to underestimate one’s positive qualities. With respect to these
issues, consider Dietrich von Hildebrand’s claim that the humble
man “considers himself the least among his fellow men, more sinful
and unworthy than everyone else.”2 This view is acceptable and is
consistent with the account of humility I give in this chapter, if it is
interpreted in the following manner:
u = “For all I know, I am more sinful than anyone else.”
I might view myself as more sinful than everyone else, in the sense
denoted by u. Making such comparative judgments is difficult, espe-
cially given the Christian belief that all human beings are sinful and
unworthy of God, apart from his intervention in our lives. Humility
counsels caution about comparative judgments concerning the extent
of our sinfulness, and so it seems appropriate to believe u. But I might
object to this, noting that I am not guilty of genocide, and so surely
I am less sinful than Hitler, Karadzic, Pol Pot, and those responsible for
the Trail of Tears, to name just a few. While it is true that I have not
committed such acts, the concept of sin applies not only to acts, but also
to character. It therefore applies to dispositions and the correlative
actions that could obtain in counterfactual situations. Unfortunately,
for all I know, if I were born and raised in the particular circumstances
of any of these individuals, I would have done what they did. I do not
believe this to be the case, but for all I know I am mistaken about this
belief. So in the particular sense signified by u I might properly consider
myself more sinful than everyone else.
Consider another conception of humility as a low view of one’s self
from The Rule of Benedict, a book of practical instructions related to
the monastic life compiled in the sixth century. This text includes
twelve steps that monks are advised to take in order to cultivate the
virtue of humility. In the seventh step, Saint Benedict enjoins the
2
Dietrich von Hildebrand, Humility: Wellspring of Virtue (Manchester, NH:
Sophia Institute Press, 1990 [1948]), p. 69. See also St. John of the Cross, The Dark
Night of the Soul, Book I, chapter 2.

monk “not only to claim that he is beneath everyone else and worse
than them, but also to be convinced of this deep in his heart.”3 At first
glance, Benedict’s view seems stronger than u, because the monk is to
be convinced deep in his heart that he is worse than everyone else. But
again, we might read this as consistent with u, as being fully convinced
that, for all I know, I am worse (i.e., more sinful) than everyone else. If
so, then this is not problematic. Problems do arise, on a stronger
interpretation, however, such as this:
w = “I am the worst of all sinners.”
If we interpret w in a literal and straightforward manner, that is, if we
take it to be the claim that I am literally the worst human being that
has ever existed, in terms of my character and actions, then there is a
problem. The problem is that on such an interpretation, w is almost
surely false. There can only be one person who satisfies this descrip-
tion. It is unreasonable, then, for most people to believe w.
But if this is true, then a difficulty arises related to the New Testa-
ment. Paul states in 1 Timothy 1:15, “The saying is sure and worthy of
full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—
of whom I am the foremost.” At first glance, it seems that Paul has
expressed w.4 Given that I have no desire to contradict the apostle Paul
on this issue, what can be said here? The most important clues to what
Paul has in mind can be found in the immediate context:
I am grateful to Christ Jesus our Lord, who has strengthened me,
because he judged me faithful and appointed me to his service, even
though I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence.
But I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief, and the
grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in
Christ Jesus. The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ
Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the foremost.
But for that very reason I received mercy, so that in me, as the foremost,
Jesus Christ might display the utmost patience, making me an example
to those who would come to believe in him for eternal life.
(1 Timothy 1:12–16)
3
Benedict, The Rule of Benedict, trans. by Carolinne White (New York, NY:
Penguin Classics, 2008), p. 25.
4
The NIV makes the problem even plainer by its translation of this verse: “Here is
a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to
save sinners—of whom I am the worst.”

A case can be made that Paul’s claim to be the foremost of sinners
is not equivalent to w. The immediate context leads to a different
plausible interpretation of what he means. Paul believes that he has
committed acts that are tokens of the worst sins one can commit:
blasphemy and the violent persecution of people because they were
followers of Jesus Christ (as recorded in the book of Acts). In this
sense, he can rightly and reasonably take himself to be the foremost of
sinners. If it is correct that Paul holds the view that there is no deeper
offense against God than these acts that he has committed, then this is
a plausible interpretation of his claim in verse 15 that is not strictly
equivalent to w.
Finally, Bernard of Clairvaux describes humility as “a virtue by
which a man has a low opinion of himself because he knows himself
well.”5 With this in mind, consider a different way of thinking about
humility that includes a low view of one’s self:
v = “I have a low view of myself that correlates with my
knowledge of my moral frailty and sinfulness.”
It is reasonable to believe v, no matter how much moral progress one
has made, in part because many have testified that their moral and
spiritual progress has resulted in a clearer view of the depths of their
own vice or sin. For example, the Desert Father Mathois says that
“The nearer a man comes to God, the more he sees himself to be
a sinner. Isaiah the prophet saw the Lord and knew himself to be
wretched and unclean (Is. 6:5).”6 In a similar vein, and in an effort to
teach Christians how to overcome sin, undermine pride, and foster
humility, John Owen exhorts them to “be much in thoughtfulness of
the excellency of the majesty of God and thine infinite, inconceivable
distance from him. Many thoughts of it cannot but fill thee with a
sense of thine own vileness, which strikes deep at the root of any
indwelling sin.”7 In support of this, Owen makes reference to Job
42:5–6, where Job says to God “I had heard of you by the hearing of
the ear, but now my eye sees you; therefore I despise myself, and repent
5
Bernard of Clairvaux, The Steps of Humility and Pride (Trappist, KY: Cistercian
Publications, 1973), p. 30.
6
Benedicta Ward, ed., The Desert Fathers: Sayings of the Early Christian Monks,
revised edition (New York: Penguin Classics, 2003), p. 157.
7
John Owen, Of the Mortification of Sin in Believers, Ch. XII; http://www.ccel.org/
ccel/owen/mort.i.xv.html.

in dust and ashes.” Furthermore, Jonathan Edwards claims that an
experience of God’s grace creates a tenderness of conscience, such that
one is more attuned to his own sin and its heinous nature, but also
“more convinced of his own sinfulness and wickedness of his heart.”8
The same line of thought can also be found among contemporary
Christian thinkers. For instance, in a discussion of the cognitive
renewal that occurs in regeneration by the Holy Spirit, Alvin Plantinga
claims that as the Spirit of God gives us a clearer view of God—
including his glory, beauty, and love for us—the Spirit also gives us
more accurate knowledge of ourselves.9 As Plantinga puts it, the Spirit
“gives me a much clearer view of the heinousness of sin, and of the
degree and extent to which I am myself enmeshed in it.”10 This form of
self-knowledge that is correlated with a deeper knowledge of God is
connected to humility, in part because it gives us good reason to have a
low view of ourselves in the sense that v describes. The more
I understand the ways in which God in Christ exemplifies compassion,
humility, love, patience, and the other virtues, the clearer it becomes
that even as I make progress, I remain callous, proud, hateful, angry,
and so on. I take v to be part of what it means to be humble according to
many within the Christian tradition, and include it in my own account
of this virtue, as will become evident later.
It is important to point out that one can believe v without also
underestimating one’s value as an image-bearer and child of God, or
unreasonably ignoring whatever moral and spiritual virtues one in fact
possesses. Along these lines, Josef Pieper observes that “the notion of
humility has become blurred even in the Christian consciousness. In
the whole tractate of St. Thomas concerning humility and pride, there
is not a single sentence to suggest an attitude, on principle, of constant
self-accusation, of disparagement of one’s being and doing, of cringing
inferiority feelings, as belonging to humility or any other Christian
8
Jonathan Edwards, Religious Affections, p. 221 (http://www.ccel.org/ccel/
edwards/affections.vi.viii.html).
9
Alvin Plantinga, Warranted Christian Belief (New York, NY: Oxford University
Press, 2000), pp. 280–1. One need not accept the whole of Plantinga’s epistemology to
accept these claims. For another contemporary example, see D. A. Carson and John
D. Woodbridge, Letters along the Way: A Novel of the Christian Life (Wheaton, IL:
Crossway, 1993), pp. 15–25.
10
Plantinga, Warranted Christian Belief, p. 281.

virtue.”11 Rather, humility is grounded in self-knowledge—“man’s
estimation of himself according to truth”12—which on a Christian
anthropology recognizes the moral progress and potential of human
beings, but takes into account their moral frailties as well. We can
exemplify such knowledge without the self-accusation and self-
disparagement that Pieper mentions. The upshot here is that, given
the importance of cultivating and relying on true beliefs in order to
cultivate sound moral character, in what follows I assume that humil-
ity does not include w; both u and v, however, can be seen as consistent
with and even partially constitutive of this virtue.13
In the remainder of this chapter I both explain and offer some initial
arguments for a particular Christian conception of humility. More
specifically, I want to defend a particular sort of person, the humble
person.14 In order to do this, I first discuss a few passages from the
canonical gospels that are relevant to the virtue of humility. An exam-
ination of some of the relevant portions of the life and character of
Christ as portrayed in the gospels will be a useful starting point. I then
examine in more detail a crucial passage for developing a Christological
account of humility. Philippians 2:1–11 serves as a primary (though
not solitary) source for the account I develop here. I also briefly discuss
the notion of humility present in 1 Peter 5:5–6. I then offer an intuitive
definition of Christian humility. Next, I discuss the modularity of virtue
and analyze Christian humility in terms of its cognitive, emotional, and
active modules. I conclude the chapter with a discussion of a few
strengths that this particular conception of humility possesses.
THE HUMILITY OF JESUS CHRIST

IN THE GOSPELS
The conception of humility and of the humble person that I will

articulate is Christological. Jesus is the primary Christian moral
exemplar who is traditionally thought to flawlessly embody and act
11
Josef Pieper, The Four Cardinal Virtues (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre
Dame Press, 1966), p. 189.
12
ibid.
13
They both are included in module (C1), described later in this chapter.
14
This focus will give a richer account of the virtue itself, its connections with
other virtues and human flourishing (chapter 4), and will underscore its relevance to
human concerns in daily life (chapter 5).

from intellectual and moral virtue, where a virtue is understood as an
excellence of character aimed at some good end or ends. I take it that
the ends of Jesus as he is portrayed in the canonical gospels include
exemplifying and encouraging both love for and knowledge of God, as
well as loving one’s neighbor as oneself. When human beings know
and love God, and love their neighbors as themselves, they are disposed
to obey God, to exhibit moral and intellectual virtue, and to enjoy deep
communion with each other and God. This state is also captured by the
Hebrew term shalom, in which humans experience well-being, inner
harmony, health, and wholeness; they also possess a deep integrity
as individuals in flourishing relationships with God, one another, and
the rest of creation.15 All of these goods are present in a New Testament
picture of redemption and more generally the notion of the kingdom
of God. Given this, an examination of some of the relevant portions of
Jesus’ life and aspects of his character, as well as his stated views in the
gospels on the subject, is essential for developing a Christian under-
standing of the virtue of humility. In this section and the next,
“Humility in Philippians 2 and 1 Peter 5,” I explore the character
and teachings of Jesus as portrayed in the canonical gospels and
Paul’s teachings contained in the letter to the Philippians which
exemplifies one approach to appropriating Christian views of the
character of Jesus Christ for the practice of analytic moral theology.
I discuss the ways in which humility is exemplified in the incarnation
and crucifixion of Christ. Another scriptural source for the account of
humility I develop is 1 Peter 5, which includes an emphasis on humility
in relation to both God and others. This biblical and theological picture
of humility will then be employed in developing and supporting a
robust Christian account of this virtue.
Luke’s gospel begins with a description of the humble birth and
beginnings of Jesus. After he is born, Jesus is laid in a feeding trough
because there is no better place available. Unlike Matthew, who
describes the court of King Herod, the wise men, and other powerful
people, Richard Burridge points out that “Luke begins his portrait of
Jesus among the pious poor and women, the meek and the lowly.”16
15
This understanding of shalom is drawn from David H. Stern, Jewish New
Testament Commentary (Clarksville, MD: Jewish New Testament Publications,
1992), pp. 39, 107, and 200–1.
16
Richard A. Burridge, Imitating Jesus (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2007),
p. 232.

In Luke, we are given the story of a barren older woman, Elizabeth,
bearing a son who will announce the coming of the Messiah and his
kingdom. In addition, Luke presents the reader with an unwed teenage
mother who carries the incarnate Son of God, and who extols humility
in her Magnificat (see Luke 1:46–56). Burridge notes that with this
approach, “Luke sets up his basic theme that, coming out of Israel’s
history, Jesus is the universal bearer of burdens, concerned especially
for women, the poor and outcasts, of all nations and races.”17
The canonical gospels consistently portray Jesus interacting with
people who in the culture of the Ancient Near East would be con-
sidered outsiders or outcasts. For instance, in the Ancient Near East
women and children were considered to be property. Those with
chronic physical conditions were outcasts who according to many
deserved to suffer in this way because of their (or their ancestors’)
sins. Jesus, however, intentionally interacts with such people, often
to the surprise and even dismay of his followers and others. For
example, in John 4 Jesus engages a divorced Samaritan woman in a
conversation about her life and his identity as the Messiah. In Mark
10 Jesus is indignant when his disciples try to keep children away
from him, and instead takes the time to lay his hands on them and
bless them. Later in the same chapter of Mark, followers of Jesus
rebuke a blind beggar because he cried out to Jesus for mercy. Yet
Jesus, who is on his way to Jerusalem to be arrested and executed in
order to fulfill his Messianic mission, stops in order to heal this
blind man.
While the significance of the foregoing emphases and episodes may
be lost due to the distance in cultural context, it is fair to conclude that
associating with and seeking to help outsiders and outcasts are indi-
cative of the humility of Jesus. These passages indicate that at least one
important aspect of humility involves a willingness to lower oneself,
in particular ways, in relation to others, without a devaluing of one’s
self. In these instances, Jesus associates with and is concerned with the
welfare of those at or near the bottom of society. The proud person,
however, does not associate with those whom he considers to be
beneath himself, in part because he takes himself to be superior to
and more valuable than them. The humble person considers no one
to be beneath her, as she believes all human beings have equal worth
17
ibid.

and dignity, regardless of their place in the social hierarchy. She will
be disposed to intentionally associate with and assist those whom
society considers to be among the lowly.
There are numerous other instances in which both the humility of
Christ and his views on the subject are on display in the gospels. His
baptism by John the Baptist (Matthew 3:13–17), his washing of the
disciples’ feet (John 13:1–20), his dependence upon and partnership
with the Father (John 5), and his stated belief that the glory he
possesses was given to him by the Father (John 17:24) reveal his
humility as portrayed in the gospels. Jesus is also reported as ascribing
humility to himself in Matthew 11:28–30, where he describes himself
as “humble in heart.”18 Some of his teachings on the subject include
how to understand and practice leadership as a servant of others in
the kingdom of God (Mark 10:42–5; Matthew 23:8–12), his claim that
greatness in the kingdom of heaven is dependent upon one’s humility
(Matthew 18:1–6), and his teaching in John 15:5 that we can “do
nothing” apart from Christ, which helps to reveal why humility is
appropriate for us as human beings given this dependence upon God.
In the next section, “Humility in Philippians 2 and 1 Peter 5,” I will
focus on two important New Testament passages concerning the
virtue of humility.
HUMILITY IN PHILIPPIANS 2 AND 1 PETER 5
The Greek term tapeinophrosune is translated as “humility” in two

New Testament passages that are important for understanding this
virtue, namely, Philippians 2:1–11 and 1 Peter 5:5–6. Tapeinophrosune
can also be translated as “lowliness of mind.”19 Without examining the
particular context in which this term appears, its meaning remains
somewhat vague. It is clear that in some contexts the meaning includes
18
While we are right to be wary of self-ascriptions of humility, on the definition
developed here, such a claim is coherent and in principle can be true. For Christians,
Christ is the moral exemplar, and so his self-ascription is true on Christian theology.
We should of course be more cautious about engaging in such self-ascriptions. For
more on this, see James Kellenberger, “Humility,” American Philosophical Quarterly
47 (2010): 321–36.
19
Verlyn Verbrugge, New International Dictionary of New Testament Theology,
abridged edition (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2000), p. 555.

a self-regarding aspect, insofar as tapeinophrosune is concerned with
particular types of self-knowledge, including knowledge of one’s moral
flaws, especially in relation to the character of God in Christ.20 However,
it is also clear that this trait possesses other-regarding elements. When
the term appears in Ephesians 4:2 and Colossians 3:12, the context
points to humility as being in part a social virtue, as it is mentioned in
a discussion of relationships and other virtues appropriate for them
within the community, such as compassion, kindness, forgiveness, and
patience.21 Tapeinophrosune and most of its cognates can be interpreted
as describing something that is needed for a proper relationship
with God and other human beings.22 Tapeinophrosune also occurs in
Philippians 2:1–11, a passage which contains important theological and
ethical information related to the humility of Christ and its ramifica-
tions for Christian thought and practice. The passage is also a primary
source for much of my account of the virtue of humility.
In his letter to the Philippians, Paul expresses gratitude for their
partnership with him and exhorts them to work out their salvation in
unity by seeking to live in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ.
Philippians 2:1–11 is of special importance for my purposes. Many
New Testament scholars take vv. 5–11 to be an early Christian hymn
that Paul is appropriating. Nevertheless, as we interpret the passage,
we must see the hymn in its literary context in the epistle, and
interpret it accordingly. That is, it is important that we interpret
Philippians 2:5–11 in a way that gives priority to its role in Paul’s
argument in the epistle, rather than isolating the hymn from this
rhetorical context.23 In order to understand this passage and its
relevance for the virtue of humility, I will first consider some recent
discussion of the structure and aims of this epistle, and then examine
the passage itself in more detail.
In order to understand the purpose and structure of Paul’s letter to
the Philippians, it is helpful to consider it in light of concepts from
20
See http://biblehub.com/str/greek/5012.htm. This is discussed in more detail
later in this chapter.
21
In both passages, Paul is discussing the quality of the relationships among the
members of these two early churches, and offers instructions for how they are to relate
to each other. On this, see Ephesians 4:2–6, 16, 25–6, 29–32; and Colossians 3.
22
Verbrugge, New International Dictionary of New Testament Theology, p. 555.
23
Robert Strimple, “Philippians 2:5–11 in Recent Studies: Some Exegetical Con-
clusions,” Westminster Theological Journal 41 (1979): 247–68.

ancient rhetorical theory.24 Paul’s letter to the church at Philippi can
be divided into four segments, corresponding with the four elements
of an ancient deliberative speech. Philippians 1:1–11, then, is the
exordium, which functions to introduce the topic of the speech and
prepare the audience for the message that is to come. The second
segment, 1:12–26, is the narratio. This describes recent events, inter-
prets them, and also affords the speaker the chance to expound upon
his own character. The propositio, 1:27–30, is the part of an ancient
deliberative speech that contains the main thesis of the argument, as
well as an outline of what is to come.25 The probatio, 2:1–4:1, is the
body of the speech’s argument. Finally, 4:2–23 constitute the peror-
atio, the function of which is to recapitulate the argument.
In Philippians 1:27–30 Paul introduces his main thesis. The pro-
positio is crucial for interpreting the other parts of this epistle:
Only, live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that,
whether I come and see you or am absent and hear about you, I will
know that you are standing firm in one spirit, striving side by side with
one mind for the faith of the gospel, and are in no way intimidated by
your opponents. For them this is evidence of their destruction, but
of your salvation. And this is God’s doing. For he has graciously granted
you the privilege not only of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him
as well—since you are having the same struggle that you saw I had and
now hear that I still have.
Paul urges the Philippian Christians to live their lives in a manner
that is worthy of the gospel of Christ: with unity, faith, courage, and a
willingness to suffer for Christ. In this way, they will live out their
citizenship in the kingdom of heaven, which is significantly different
from the way of life associated with being a citizen of Rome in the
colony of Philippi. The verb Paul employs in the imperative, “live
24
James W. Thompson and Bruce W. Longnecker, Philippians and Philemon,
Paideia Commentaries on the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic,
2016), pp. 14–17.
25
In his Paul’s Letter to the Philippians, The New International Commentary on
the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1995), pp. 2–10, Gordon Fee
argues that Philippians is a friendship letter. For the argument against this and in
favor of a socio-rhetorical analysis, see Thompson and Longnecker, Philippians and
Philemon, pp. 14–16; and Ben Witherington, Paul’s Letter to the Philippians: A Socio-
Rhetorical Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2011), pp. 13–29. Notably, Fee
also claims that 1:27–30 is likely the primary imperative in the letter. So whatever one
makes of the debates about how to best classify Philippians as a whole, there are good
reasons for taking this passage as central for understanding the rest of the epistle.

your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ,” is politeuesthai,
which literally means “live out your citizenship.”26 The Philippians
are now part of an alternative commonwealth, where Christ rather
than Caesar is Lord. Because of this, at least some of their way of life
will conflict with the way of life that citizens of Rome were expected to
embrace.27 One difference of interest here is the Christian belief that
humility is a virtue rather than a trait to be avoided, as most of the
Philippian citizens of Rome would have been likely to believe.
As the main thesis of Philippians, this passage is both the founda-
tion for and receives support from the arguments that are to come. It
also foreshadows the remaining contents of the letter, in which Paul
shows the Philippian church how to stand firm in the face of suffering
and adversity.28 The image conveyed by “standing firm” (1:27) is one
of a military unit holding a line in the face of an enemy. The Philippians
are to strive together, in unity and mutual support for the sake of the
gospel. As they do this, they are to reject any intimidation that their
opponents may seek to create.29 It is clear that the relationships they
have with one another are crucial; Paul expounds upon this in the
subsequent passage, where humility takes center stage.
With the foregoing in mind, then, Philippians 2:1–11 elaborates
upon and its interpretation should be informed by 1:27 and its
imperative to stand firm in unity and work together for the sake of
the gospel. 2:1–11 is part of the probatio, in which Paul’s “primary
interest [is] the formation of the community . . . the exhortation to
maintain harmony in the face of adversity is the central component of
the letter.”30 The passage reads as follows:
If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love,
any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, make my joy
complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full
accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit,
but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you
look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the
same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in
the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be
26
ibid. p. 50.
27
In addition to Thompson and Longnecker, see also Witherington, Paul’s Letter
to the Philippians, pp. 96–109.
28
Witherington, Paul’s Letter to the Philippians, pp. 96–107.
29
Thompson and Longnecker, Philippians and Philemon, pp. 51–2.
30
ibid. p. 16.

exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in
human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross.
Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is
above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should
confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.
As will become evident later in this chapter, this passage contains “both
an argument from example and a narrative description of the reversal of
values that is required to maintain unity.”31 Paul exhorts the Philippians
to be united for the sake of the gospel (vv. 1–4), which requires humbly
valuing the interests of others rather than one’s own honor and self-
centered interests. This is a reversal of values in the sense that it
constitutes a different way of seeing reality that employs an alternative
set of values in comparison to those cherished by the Greco-Roman
culture in Philippi. Rather than seeking to climb up the social ladder,
Paul exhorts members of the Philippian church to step down that ladder
in service to others.32 He also encourages them to imitate the humility
exemplified by Christ in his incarnation and crucifixion (vv. 5–11).
Paul assumes in v. 1 that encouragement, consolation, love, sharing
in the Spirit, compassion, and sympathy are present realities in the
Philippian church.33 He is describing the collective experience of
the Philippians, not merely the experiences of individuals within the
community. There is unity already present in this church, and Paul’s
concern is that it be strengthened so that they can make further
progress in fulfilling the imperative in the propositio. In v. 2, when
Paul urges them to “be of the same mind,” he is referring to mental
and attitudinal dispositions he believes they should possess. He wants
them to be inclined to think in a particular way, in order to foster
loving unity and living in a manner worthy of the gospel. Paul goes on
to more fully describe the mindset and the corresponding actions that
he is concerned with in this passage.
In vv. 3–4, there are several imperatives that reveal something
about the nature of humility as it is conceived of here. In these verses,
Paul exhorts the Philippians as follows: “Do nothing from selfish
ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than
yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the
interests of others.” The content of these verses and their context point
31 32
ibid. Witherington, Paul’s Letter to the Philippians, pp. 31–2.
33
ibid. pp. 120–1.

to something vital for our understanding of Christian humility, namely,
that it is in part a social virtue. The content of these verses supports the
claim that humility has to do with how we view others in relation to
ourselves, and it emphasizes how one should prioritize and act upon
others’ interests in relation to his own. The immediate context supports
the view that humility is a social virtue, as prior to this Paul exhorts the
Philippians to be united in love and to be “of one mind,” which he
expounds upon here and in the remainder of the passage.
In v. 3, “humility” (tapeinophrosune) is contrasted with “selfish
ambition” and “conceit.”34 The former is a threat to the common love
and life described in vv. 1–2, and in the context of Paul’s appeal to
unity refers to a kind of divisiveness that a devotion to one’s own self-
interest tends to manifest. The latter is a translation of the Greek
word kenodoxia, which literally means “empty glory” and can be
translated as “empty self-glorification.” In the Greco-Roman world
of Philippi, an agonistic honor and shame culture, this term refers to a
person who is a self-promoter, who overestimates his own achieve-
ments, and describes them to others for the sake of gaining honor.
Such a person believes that he possesses glory, but this belief is
baseless.35 He is mistaken because he is “conceited without reason,
deluded.”36 He fails to possess self-knowledge with respect to the
honor that is due him and the glory he possesses. In contrast to
this, the person described as humble in this culture would be someone
of low birth or occupation, someone who is base, or even someone
who is a flattering groveler.37 Tapeinophrosune was a pejorative term,
but Paul is exhorting the Philippians to be humble in a different sense,
to take on a radically different mindset than the culture they
inhabited. The Christian of higher status was to be concerned with
the well-being of those who had a lower status, as described in v. 4.38
Some commentators believe that Paul is offering a definition of
humility in v. 4, where he states that each person should look out for
the interests of others above (or rather than) their own.39 Gordon Fee
argues that Paul has an Old Testament understanding of humility in
34
The following is drawn from ibid. pp. 122, 128.
35
Fee, Paul’s Letter to the Philippians, p. 187.
36
Gerald Hawthorne and Ralph Martin, Philippians, revised edition, Word Biblical
Commentary vol. 43 (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2004), p. 87.
37
See Thompson and Longnecker, Philippians and Philemon, p. 62.
38
Witherington, Paul’s Letter to the Philippians, p. 129.
39
For example, see ibid. and Thompson and Longnecker, Philippians and Phile-
mon, pp. 68–76.

mind here, where the “lowliness” alluded to by tapeinophrosune
refers to our status as creatures.40 Given this, Fee observes that
“Humility . . . has to do with a proper estimation of oneself, the stance
of the creature before the Creator, utterly dependent and trusting.”41
He goes on to analyze the structure of vv. 3–4 in order to interpret
what humility is in this passage, and claims that the humble person
avoids making too much or too little of her weaknesses or her glory as
an image-bearer of God, but is instead focused on others and their
concerns. Fee takes Paul’s command in v. 3 to “regard others as better
than yourselves” to be clarified by v. 4. Together then, these verses
teach that “we are to so consider others, not in our estimation of
them—which would only lead to the very vices Paul has just spoken
against—but in our caring for them, in our putting them and their
needs ahead of our own. After all, this is precisely how Christ’s
humility expressed itself, as Paul narrates in v. 8.”42 A linguistic
analysis also supports this reading, according to Fee. The term trans-
lated as “better” in v. 3 appears in two other places in the letter, and in
both cases it denotes “surpassing,” i.e., going far beyond. Given this,
and the content of v. 4, Fee argues that this also seems to be the sense of
the term in v. 3. He contends that the set of clauses in v. 4 modify the
term “consider” in v. 3, so that v. 4 “is not another in a series of
exhortations; rather, it clarifies the preceding clause.”43 If this is
correct, then members of the Christian community at Philippi are
being instructed to regard others as surpassing themselves by looking
out for their interests ahead of their own. Finally, an additional feature
of the structure of this passage supports reading vv. 3–4 as showing
that Paul’s conception of humility, of “regarding others as better than
yourselves,” means looking out for their interests. While vv. 1–4 form
one sentence in the Greek, the sentence is made up of three strophes.
The final strophe (vv. 3–4) follows an ABAB pattern:
A not with selfish ambition or conceit,
B but with humility considering one another better than yourselves,
A’ not looking to your own interests,
B’ but to the interests of others.44
40 41
Fee, Paul’s Letter to the Philippians, pp. 188–90. ibid. p. 188.
42
ibid. p. 189. Fee is working with the NIV, which uses the word “consider” rather
than “regard,” as in the NRSV.
43
ibid. p. 190.
44
Thompson and Longnecker, Philippians and Philemon, pp. 68–70.
Another random document with
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every man has his own. The word is said to be derived from Sanscrit
and to be etymologically identical with Avatar, the Dyaks regularly
substituting p or b for v. See Rev. J. Perham, op. cit. pp. 133 sqq.; H.
Ling Roth’s Natives of Sarawak and British North Borneo, i. 168 sqq.
48.1 H. Ling Roth, “Low’s Natives of Borneo,” Journal of the
Anthropological Institute, xxi. (1892) pp. 113 sq., 133; compare id.,
ibid. xxii. (1893) p. 24.
48.2 Spenser St. John, Life in the Forests of the Far East, Second
Edition (London, 1863), i. 63 sq.
49.1 Hugh Low, Sarawak (London, 1848), pp. 300 sq.
50.1 Charles Hose and William McDougall, The Pagan Tribes of
Borneo (London, 1912), ii. 196-199.
50.2 Charles Brooke, Ten Years in Sarawak (London, 1866), i. 69
sq.
51.1 A. W. Nieuwenhuis, Quer durch Borneo (Leyden, 1904-1907),
i. 367.
51.2 M. T. H. Perelaer, Ethnographische Beschrijving der Dajaks
(Zalt-Bommel, 1870), pp. 59 sq.
51.3 A. W. Nieuwenhuis, Quer durch Borneo, ii. 99; id., In Centraal
Borneo (Leyden, 1900), ii. 278.
51.4 A. H. F. J. Nusselein, “Beschrijving van het landschap Pasir,”
Bijdragen tot de Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-
Indië, lviii. (1905) p. 538.
51.5 A. Bastian, Indonesien, i. (Berlin, 1884) p. 144.
52.1 G. A. Wilken, Verspreide Geschriften (The Hague, 1912), ii.
335 (“Huwelijken tusschen bloedverwanten,” p. 26).
52.2 B. F. Matthes, “Over de âdá’s of gewoonten der Makassaren
en Boegineezen,” Verslagen en Mededeelingen der Koninklijke
Akademie van Wetenschappen, Afdeeling Letterkunde, Derde
Reeks, ii. (Amsterdam, 1885) p. 182.
52.3 Digest, xlviii. 9.9, “Poena parricidii more majorum haec
instituta est, ut parricida virgis sanguineis verberatus deinde culleo
insuatur cum cane, gallo gallinaceo et vipera et simia: deinde in
mare profundum culleus jactatur.” Compare Valerius Maximus, i. 1.
13; Professor J. E. B. Mayor’s note on Juvenal, viii. 214. If the view
suggested above is correct, the scourging of the criminal to the
effusion of blood (virgis sanguineis verberatus) must have been a
later addition to the original penalty, unless indeed some provision
were made for catching the blood before it fell on the ground.
53.1 A. C. Kruijt, “Eenige aanteekeningen omtrent de Toboengkoe
en de Tomori,” Mededeelingen van wege het Nederlandsche
Zendelinggenootschap, xliv. (1900) p. 235.
53.2 A. C. Kruijt, “Van Posso naar Mori,” Mededeelingen van wege
het Nederlandsche Zendelinggenootschap, xliv. (1900) p. 162.

53.3 N. Adriani en Alb. C. Kruijt, De Bare’e-sprekende Toradja’s van
Midden-Celebes, i. (Batavia, 1912) p. 187.

54.1 Hissink, “Nota van toelichting, betreffende de zelbesturende
landschappen Paloe, Dolo, Sigi, en Beromaroe,” Tijdschrift voor

Indische Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde, liv. (1912), p. 115.
54.2 M. J. van Baarda, “Fabelen, Verhalen en Overleveringen der
Galelareezen,” Bijdragen tot de Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde van
Nederlandsch-Indië, xlv. (1895) p. 514. In a letter to me of 14th
March 1909 Sir John Rhŷs compares a Welsh expression, “Rain
through sunshine, the devil going on his wife.” He adds: “I do not
think I ever heard it except when it was actually raining during
sunshine. I can now see that instead of ar i wraig the original must
have been ar i fam ‘on his mother.’ In fact I am not at all sure but that
I have heard it so.”
54.3 F. S. A. de Clerq, Bijdragen tot de kennis der Residentie
Ternate (Leyden, 1890), p. 132.
55.1 O. Dapper, Description de l’Afrique (Amsterdam, 1686), p.
326; R. E. Dennett, At the Back of the Black Man’s Mind (London,
1906), pp. 53, 67-71.
56.1 R. E. Dennett, op. cit. p. 52.
56.2 A. C. Hollis, The Nandi, their Language and Folk-lore (Oxford,
1909), p. 76.
56.3 Rev. E. Casalis, The Basutos (London, 1861), p. 252.
56.4 Rev. E. Casalis, The Basutos, p. 267. The writer tells us (pp.
255 sq.) that “death with all that immediately precedes or follows it, is
in the eyes of these people the greatest of all defilements. Thus the
sick, persons who have touched or buried a corpse, or who have dug
the grave, individuals who inadvertently walk over or sit upon a
grave, the near relatives of a person deceased, murderers, warriors
who have killed their enemies in battle, are all considered impure.”
No doubt all such persons would also be prohibited from handling
the corn.
57.1 Edward Westermarck, Ceremonies and Beliefs connected with
Agriculture, Certain Dates of the Solar Year, and the Weather in
Morocco (Helsingfors, 1913), p. 46.
57.2 E. Westermarck, op. cit. p. 54; compare pp. 17, 23, 47.
57.3 C. G. Seligmann, s.v. “Dinka,” in Dr. J. Hastings’s
Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics, iv. (Edinburgh, 1911) p. 709.
57.4 Henri A. Junod, “Les conceptions physiologiques des Bantou
Sud-Africains et leurs tabous,” Revue d’ Ethnographie et de
Sociologie, i. (1910) p. 146 note 2.
59.1 Henri A. Junod, The Life of a South African Tribe (Neuchatel,
1912-1913), ii. 60-62.

59.2 A. van Gennep, Tabou et Totémisme à Madagascar (Paris,
1904), pp. 342 sq., quoting the evidence of M. Gabriel Ferrand.

Similar testimony was given to me verbally by M. Ferrand at Paris,
19th April, 1910. Compare Gabriel Ferrand, Les Musulmans à
Madagascar et aux Iles Comores, Deuxième Partie (Paris, 1893),
pp. 20 sq.
60.1 In Fiji the rite of circumcision used to be followed by sexual
orgies in which brothers and sisters appear to have been
intentionally coupled. See Rev. Lorimer Fison, “The Nanga, or
Sacred Stone Enclosure of Wainimala, Fiji,” Journal of the
Anthropological Institute, xiv. (1885) pp. 27-30, with the note of Sir
Edward B. Tylor on pp. 28 sq.; Totemism and Exogamy, ii. 145-148.
Such periods of general licence accorded to the whole community
are perhaps best explained as temporary revivals of an old custom
of sexual communism. But this explanation seems scarcely
applicable to cases like those cited in the text, where the licence is
not granted to the whole people but enjoined on a few individuals
only in special circumstances. As to other apparent cases of
reversion to primitive sexual communism, see Totemism and
Exogamy, i. 311 sqq.
60.2 Job xxxi. 11 sq. (Revised Version).
60.3 ‫ְּת כּןָא ה‬. See Hebrew and English Lexicon, by F. Brown, S. R.
Driver, and Ch. A. Briggs (Oxford, 1906), p. 100.

61.1 Genesis xii. 10-20, xx. 1-18.
61.2 Leviticus xviii. 24 sq.
61.3 Sophocles, Oedipus Tyrannus, 22 sqq., 95 sqq.
61.4 Tacitus, Annals, xii. 4 and 8.
62.1 See The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings, i. 12, 14 sqq.
62.2 G. Keating, History of Ireland, translated by J. O’Mahony (New
York, 1857), pp. 337 sq.; P. W. Joyce, Social History of Ancient
Ireland (London, 1903), ii. 512 sq.
62.3 “Corc means croppy or cropped: in this instance the name
refers to the bearer’s ears, and the verb used as to the action of his
brother maiming him is ro-chorc.”
63.1 (Sir) John Rhŷs, Celtic Heathendom (London and Edinburgh,
1888), pp. 308 sq., referring to the Book of the Dun, 54a.
64.1 Laws of Manu, viii. 371 sq., translated by G. Bühler, pp. 318
sq. (Sacred Books of the East, vol. xxv.). Compare Gautama, xxiii.
14 sq., translated by G. Bühler, p. 285 (Sacred Books of the East,
vol. ii.).
64.2 Code of Hammurabi, §§ 129, 157, C. H. W. Johns, Babylonian
and Assyrian Laws, Contracts and Letters (Edinburgh, 1904), pp. 54,
56; Robert W. Rogers, Cuneiform Parallels to the Old Testament
(Oxford, preface dated 1911), pp. 427, 434.
64.3 Deuteronomy xxii. 22.
64.4 Deuteronomy xxii. 20 sq.
64.5 Leviticus xxi. 9.
64.6 Leviticus xx. 14.
65.1 Rev. J. Roscoe, The Baganda (London, 1911), pp. 261 sq.
65.2 Rev. J. Roscoe, op. cit. p. 262. As to the totemic clans, see id.
pp. 133 sqq. One clan (the Lung-fish clan) was excepted from the
rule.
65.3 Sir Harry Johnston, The Uganda Protectorate (London, 1904),
ii. 719.
66.1 Sir Harry Johnston, op. cit. ii. 746 sq.
66.2 A. C. Hollis, The Nandi (Oxford, 1909), p. 76.
66.3 Werner Munzinger, Ostafrikanische Studien (Schaffhausen,
1864), p. 243.
66.4 W. Munzinger, op. cit. p. 322. However, the child of an
unmarried slave woman is brought up; the father pays for its nurture.
66.5 H. S. Stannus, “Notes on some Tribes of British Central
Africa,” Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, xl. (1910) p.

290.
67.1 Cullen Gouldsbury and Hubert Sheane, The Great Plateau of
Northern Rhodesia (London, 1911), p. 57.
67.2 Peter Kolben, The Present State of the Cape of Good Hope,
Second Edition (London, 1738), i. 157. For more examples of the
death penalty inflicted for breaches of sexual morality in Africa, see
A. H. Post, Afrikanische Jurisprudenz (Olbenburg and Leipsic, 1887),
ii. 69 sqq.
68.1 G. J. van Dongen, “De Koeboes,” Bijdragen tot de Taal- Land-
en Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indië, lxiii. (1910) p. 293.
68.2 R. van Eck, “Schetsen van het eiland Bali,” Tijdschrift voor
Nederlandsch Indië, Nieuwe Serie, viii. (1879) pp. 370 sq.; Julius
Jacobs, Eenigen Tijd onder de Baliërs (Batavia, 1883), p. 126.
68.3 See above, pp. 52 sq.
68.4 Hoorweg, “Nota bevattende eenige gegevens betreffende het
landschap Mamoedjoe,” Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal- Land- en
Volkenkunde, lxiii. (1911) p. 95.
68.5 G. A. Wilken, Verspreide Geschriften (The Hague, 1912), ii.
481.
69.1 J. S. G. Gramberg, “Schets der Kesam, Semendo, Makakauw
en Blalauw,” Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde,
xv. (1866) pp. 456-458. Compare G. G. Batten, Glimpses of the
Eastern Archipelago (Singapore, 1894), pp. 105 sq.
69.2 G. A. Wilken, Verspreide Geschriften, ii. 481 sq.
69.3 Franz Junghuhn, Die Battaländer auf Sumatra (Berlin, 1847),
ii. 147, 156 sq.
70.1 A. R. Wallace, The Malay Archipelago, Sixth Edition (London,
1877), pp. 173 sq.
71.1 See above, pp. 46-54.
72.1 James Dawson, Australian Aborigines (Melbourne, Sydney,
and Adelaide, 1881), p. 28.
73.1 A. W. Howitt, Native Tribes of South-East Australia (London,
1904), pp. 222-224.
74.1 Walter E. Roth, Ethnological Studies among the North-West-
Central Queensland Aborigines (Brisbane and London, 1897), p.
181.
74.2 A. W. Howitt, Native Tribes of South-East Australia, pp. 264,
266.
74.3 A. W. Howitt, Native Tribes of South-East Australia, pp. 246
sq.
74.4 Mrs. Daisy M. Bates, “The Marriage Laws and some Customs
of the West Australian Aborigines,” Victorian Geographical Journal,
xxiii.-xxiv. (1905-1906) p. 42. The statement in the text was made by
a settler who had lived in the Tableland district, inland from
Roeburne, for twenty years.
75.1 A. W. Howitt, Native Tribes of South-East Australia, p. 208.
Similarly among tribes on the Hunter River “a man is not permitted to
speak to his wife’s mother, but can do so through a third party. In
former days it was death to speak to her, but now a man doing so is
only severely reprimanded and has to leave the camp for a certain
time” (A. W. Howitt, op. cit. p. 267).
75.2 See for example (Sir) E. B. Tylor, “On a method of
investigating the Development of Institutions,” Journal of the

Anthropological Institute, xviii. (1889) pp. 246-248; Salomon
Reinach, “Le Gendre et la Belle-Mère,” L’Anthropologie, xxii. (1911)
pp. 649-662; id., Cultes, Mythes et Religions, iv. (Paris, 1912) pp.
130-147.
75.3 In Totemism and Exogamy (Index, s.vv. “Avoidance” and
“Mother-in-law”) will be found a collection of examples. In what
follows I abstain for the most part from citing instances which have
been adduced by me before.
76.1 Rev. John H. Weeks, Among Congo Cannibals (London,
1913), pp. 133 sq. Compare id., “Anthropological Notes on the
Bangala of the Upper Congo,” Journal of the Royal Anthropological
Institute, xl. (1910) pp. 367 sq.
77.1 Father M. A. Condon, “Contribution to the Ethnography of the
Basoga-Batamba, Uganda Protectorate,” Anthropos, vi. (1911) pp.

377 sq.
78.1 C. W. Hobley, Ethnology of A-Kamba and other East African
Tribes (Cambridge, 1910), pp. 103, 104.
78.2 Father Eugene Hurel, “Religion et vie domestique des
Bakerewe,” Anthropos, vi. (1911) p. 287.
79.1 Father Picarda, “Autour du Mandera, Notes sur l’Ouzigoua,
l’Oukwéré et l’Oudoé (Zanquebar),” Les Missions Catholiques, xviii.
(1886) p. 286.
79.2 H. S. Stannus, “Notes on Some Tribes of British Central
307.
79.3 H. S. Stannus, op. cit. p. 309.
Northern Rhodesia (London, 1911), p. 259.
79.5 “The Angoni-Zulus,” British Central Africa Gazette, No. 86,
April 30th, 1898, p. 2.
80.1 Henri A. Junod, Les Ba-Ronga (Neuchâtel, 1898), pp. 79 sq.;
id., The Life of a South African Tribe (Neuchatel, 1912-1913), i. 230-
232.
80.2 Henri A. Junod, The Life of a South African Tribe, i. 239.
81.1 Hermann Tönjes, Ovamboland, Land, Leute, Mission (Berlin,
1911), p. 133.
81.2 A. C. Hollis, “A Note on the Masai System of Relationship and
other Matters connected therewith,” Journal of the Royal
Anthropological Institute, xl. (1910) p. 481.
81.3 Werner Munzinger, Sitten und Recht der Bogos (Winterthur,
1859), p. 63.
81.4 G. Casati, Ten Years in Equatoria (London and New York,
1891), i. 69.
81.5 Travels of an Arab Merchant [Mohammed Ibn Omar El-Tounsy]
in Soudan, abridged from the French by Bayle St. John (London,
1854), pp. 97 sq.
82.1 J. Kreemer, “De Loeboes in Mandailing,” Bijdragen tot de Taal-
Land- en Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indië, lxvi. (1912) p. 324.

82.2 Stefan Lehner, “Bukaua,” in R. Neuhauss’s Deutsch Neu-
Guinea (Berlin, 1911), iii. 426 sq.

83.1 J. Baegert, “An Account of the Aboriginal Inhabitants of the
Californian Peninsula,” Annual Report of the Board of Regents of the

Smithsonian Institution for the year 1863, p. 368. This and the
following American cases have already been cited by me in
Totemism and Exogamy, iv. 314 sq.
83.2 Alvar Nuñez Cabeça de Vaca, Relation et Naufrages (Paris,
1837), pp. 109 sq. (in Ternaux-Compans’ Voyages, Relations, et
Mémoires originaux pour servir à l’Histoire de la Découverte de
l’Amérique). The original of this work was published in Spanish at
Valladolid in 1555.
83.3 Brasseur de Bourbourg, Histoire des Nations civilisées du
Mexique et de l’Amérique-Centrale (Paris, 1857-1859), ii. 52 sq.
83.4 G. Klemm, Allgemeine Culturgeschichte der Menschheit
(Leipsic, 1843-1852), ii. 77.
83.5 J. B. du Tertre, Histoire generale des Isles de S. Christophe,
de la Guadeloupe, de la Martinique et autres dans l’Amerique (Paris,
1654), p. 419. A similar, but rather briefer, account of the custom is
given by De la Borde, who may have borrowed from Du Tertre. See
De la Borde, “Relation de l’origine, mœurs, coustumes, réligion,
guerres et voyages des Caraibes, sauvages des Isles Antilles de
l’Amerique,” p. 56 (in Recueil de divers Voyages faits en Afrique et
en l’Amerique qui n’ont pas esté encore publiez, Paris, 1684).
84.1 Edmond Reuel Smith, The Araucanians (London, 1855), p.
217.
84.2 We have met with a custom of avoidance between father and
daughter among the Akamba (above, p. 78). For more examples see
Totemism and Exogamy, Index, s.v. “Avoidance,” vol. iv. p. 326.
85.1 Among those who incline more or less definitely to accept this
view are the late Dr. A. W. Howitt (“Notes on some Australian Class
Systems,” Journal of the Anthropological Institute, xii. (1883) pp. 502
sq.), Dr. R. H. Codrington (see below, p. 86), M. Joustra (see below,
p. 85), and the Rev. J. H. Weeks (see above, p. 76). Three of these
writers are experienced missionaries who are only concerned to
record the facts, and have no theories to maintain.
85.2 Totemism and Exogamy, ii. 188 sq. The authority for these
statements is M. Joustra, “Het leven, de zeden en gewoonten der
Bataks,” Mededeelingen van wege het Nederlandsche
Zendelinggenootschap, xlvi. (1902) pp. 391 sq.
86.1 R. H. Codrington, D.D., The Melanesians (Oxford, 1891), p.
232.
87.1 R. H. Codrington, op. cit. p. 43.
88.1 Max Girschner, “Die Karolineninsel Námōluk und ihre
Bewohner,” Baessler-Archiv, ii. (1912) p. 164.
90.1 P. G. Peckel, “Die Verwandtschaftsnamen des mittleren
Neumecklenburg,” Anthropos, iii. (1908) pp. 467, 470 sq.
90.2 P. G. Peckel, op. cit. pp. 463, 467.
90.3 Rev. J. Roscoe, The Baganda (London, 1911), pp. 128 sq.,
131; Sir Harry Johnston, The Uganda Protectorate (London, 1904),
ii. 695. The latter writer says generally: “Cousins cannot enter the
same house, and must not eat out of the same dish. A man cannot
marry his cousin.” But from Mr. Roscoe’s researches it appears that
a man has only to avoid certain cousins, called kizibwewe, that is,
the daughters either of his father’s sisters or of his mother’s brothers.
91.1 Rev. J. Roscoe, op. cit. p. 129. Among the women with whom
man was forbidden to have sexual relations under pain of death

were (besides his cousins mentioned above) his father’s sister, his
daughter, and his wife’s sister’s daughter. See J. Roscoe, op. cit. pp.
131, 132. The reason alleged for avoiding a mother-in-law, namely,
because a man has seen her daughter’s nakedness (compare
above, p. 76) is probably a later misinterpretation of the custom.
91.2 G. McCall Theal, Records of South-Eastern Africa, vii. (1901)
pp. 431, 432. The writer adds: “Among the tribes within the Cape
Colony at the present time the differences are as follows:—
“Xosas, Tembus, and Pondos: marry no relative by blood, however
distant, on either father’s or mother’s side.
“Hlubis and others commonly called Fingos: may marry the
daughter of mother’s brother and other relatives on that side, but not
on father’s side.
“Basuto, Batlaro, Batlapin, and Barolong: very frequently marry
cousins on father’s side, and know of no restrictions beyond actual
sisters.”
92.1 Henri A. Junod, The Life of a South African Tribe (Neuchatel,
1912-1913), i. 243-245. As to the rules concerning the marriage of
cousins in this tribe, see id. i. 241 sq.
92.2 Heinrich Claus, Die Wagogo (Leipsic and Berlin, 1911), p. 58.
93.1 C. W. Hobley, “Kikuyu Customs and Beliefs,” Journal of the
Royal Anthropological Institute, xl. (1910) p. 438.
94.1 See above, pp. 78 sq., 81.
94.2 See above, pp. 80, 81, 84.
94.3 See above, p. 81.
94.4 See above, pp. 44 sqq.
94.5 See below, pp. 102 sqq.
95.1 On the question of the effect of inbreeding see Totemism and
Exogamy, iv. 160 sqq.
95.2 A. H. Huth, The Marriage of Near Kin considered with respect
to the Laws of Nations, the Results of Experience, and the
Teachings of Biology, Second Edition (London, 1887).
96.1 J. Arthur Thomson, article “Consanguinity,” in Dr. James
Hastings’s Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics, iv. (Edinburgh,
1911) p. 30.
96.2 André Thevet, La Cosmographie Universelle (Paris, 1575), ii.
933 [967].
97.1 Father P. Schumacher, “Das Eherecht in Ruanda,” Anthropos,
vii. (1912) p. 4.
97.2 H. H. Milman, History of Latin Christianity, New Impression
(London, 1903), ii. 54.
97.3 These particulars as to the Slavonic peoples of the Balkan
peninsula I take from a letter with which Miss M. Edith Durham, one
of our best authorities on these races, was so good as to favour me.
Her letter is dated 116a King Henry’s Road, London, N.W., October
16th, 1909. The stoning of the betrothed couple near Cattaro is
recorded, so Miss Durham tells me, in a Servian book, Narodne
Pripovjetke i Presude, by Vuk Vrcević. For many more examples of
the death penalty and other severe punishments inflicted for sexual
offences, see E. Westermarck, The Origin and Development of Moral
Ideas (London, 1906-1908), ii. 366 sqq., 425 sqq.
98.1 F. S. Krauss, Sitte und Brauch der Südslaven (Vienna, 1885),
pp. 209, 216, 217. Compare F. Demelić, Le Droit Coutumier des
Slaves Méridionaux (Paris, 1876), p. 76.
98.2 F. S. Krauss, op. cit. pp. 208-212, citing as his authority Vuk
Vrčević, Niz srpskih pripovijedaka, pp. 129-137.
98.3 F. S. Krauss, Sitte und Brauch der Südslaven, p. 204.
99.1 For examples of the attempt to multiply edible plants in this
fashion, see The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings, ii. 97 sqq.
The reported examples of similar attempts to assist the multiplication
of animals seem to be rarer. For some instances see George Catlin,
O-Kee-Pa, a Religious Ceremony and other Customs of the
Mandans (London, 1867), Folium Reservatum, pp. i.-iii.
(multiplication of buffaloes); History of the Expedition under the
Command of Captains Lewis and Clark to the Sources of the
Missouri (London, 1905), i. 209 sq. (multiplication or attraction of
buffaloes); Maximilian Prinz zu Wied, Reise in das innere Nord-
America (Coblentz, 1839-1841), ii. 181, 263-267 (multiplication or
attraction of buffaloes); Reports of the Cambridge Anthropological
Expedition to Torres Straits, v. (1904) p. 271 (multiplication of
turtles); J. Roscoe, “Further Notes on the Manners and Customs of
the Baganda,” Journal of the Anthropological Institute, xxxii. (1902)
p. 53; id., The Baganda (London, 1911), p. 144 (multiplication of
edible green locusts); S. Gason, in Journal of the Anthropological
Institute, xxiv. (1895) p. 174 (multiplication of edible rats); id., “The
Dieyerie Tribe,” in Native Tribes of South Australia (Adelaide, 1879),
p. 280 (multiplication of dogs and snakes).
100.1 I have given my reasons for thinking so elsewhere (The
Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings, i. 220 sqq.).
103.1 Rev. J. Roscoe, The Baganda (London, 1911), p. 262.
103.2 Rev. J. Roscoe, op. cit. p. 55. Compare id., “Further Notes on
the Manners and Customs of the Baganda,” Journal of the
Anthropological Institute, xxxii. (1902) p. 39.
103.3 Rev. J. Roscoe, The Baganda, p. 262.
103.4 Rev. J. Roscoe, op. cit. pp. 72, 102.
Northern Rhodesia (London, 1911), pp. 57, 178.

104.2 Henri A. Junod, “Les Conceptions Physiologiques des Bantou
Sud-Africains et leurs Tabous,” Revue d’Ethnographie et de

Sociologie, i. (1910) p. 150; id., The Life of a South African Tribe
(Neuchatel, 1912-1913), i. 38 sq.
105.1 Henri A. Junod, “Les Conceptions Physiologiques des
Bantous Sud-Africains et leurs Tabous,” Revue d’Ethnographie et de

Sociologie, i. (1910) p. 150; id., The Life of a South African Tribe, i.
194 sq.
Royal Anthropological Institute, xl. (1910) p. 433. A similar state of
ceremonial pollution (thahu) is supposed by the Akikuyu to arise on
many other occasions, which are enumerated by Mr. Hobley (op. cit.
pp. 428-440). See further below, p. 115, note 5.
105.3 H. S. Stannus, “Notes on some Tribes of British Central

305. Compare R. C. F. Maugham, Zambezia (London, 1910), p. 326.
105.4 Max Weiss, Die Völkerstämme im Norden Deutsch-Ostafrikas
(Berlin, 1910), p. 385.
105.5 C. W. Hobley, Ethnology of A-Kamba and other East African
Tribes (Cambridge, 1910), p. 61.
106.1 C. W. Hobley, op. cit. p. 103.
106.2 A. Karasek, “Beiträge zur Kenntniss der Waschambaa,”
Baessler-Archiv, i. (1911) p. 186.
106.3 P. Reichard, Deutsch Ostafrika (Leipsic, 1892), p. 427; H.
Cole, “Notes on the Wagogo of German East Africa,” Journal of the

Anthropological Institute, xxxii. (1902) pp. 318 sq.; A. D’Orbigny,
Voyage dans l’Amérique méridionale, iii. Part i. (Paris and Strasburg,
1844) p. 226; Ivan Petroff, Report on the Population, Industries, and
Resources of Alaska, p. 155.
106.4 C. Lumholtz, Unknown Mexico (London, 1903), ii. 128 sq.
106.5 De Flacourt, Histoire de la Grande Isle Madagascar (Paris,
1658), pp. 97 sq. Compare John Struys, Voiages and Travels
(London, 1684), p. 22; Abbé Rochon, Voyage to Madagascar and
the East Indies, translated from the French (London, 1792), pp. 46
sq.
107.1 Rev. J. Roscoe, The Baganda (London, 1911), pp. 352, 362,
363, sq.
107.2 Rev. John H. Weeks, “Anthropological Notes on the Bangala
of the Upper Congo River,” Journal of the Royal Anthropological

Institute, xl. (1910) p. 413; id., Among Congo Cannibals (London,
1913), p. 224.
107.3 J. R. Swanton, “Contributions to the Ethnology of the Haida,”
p. 56 (The Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Memoir of the American
Museum of Natural History, vol. v. Part i., Leyden and New York,
1905).
107.4 2 Samuel xi.
108.1 “Mr. Farewell’s Account of Chaka, the King of Natal,”
Appendix to W. F. W. Owen’s Narrative of Voyages to explore the
Shores of Africa, Arabia, and Madagascar (London, 1833), ii. 395.
108.2 L. Alberti, De Kaffers (Amsterdam, 1810), p. 171.
108.3 C. Wunenberger, “La Mission et le Royaume de Humbé, sur
les bords du Cunène,” Les Missions Catholiques, xx. (1888), p. 262.
108.4 J. B. Labat, Relation historique de l’Éthiopie occidentale
(Paris, 1732), i. 259 sq.
109.1 Proyart, “History of Loango, Kakongo, and other Kingdoms in
Africa,” in J. Pinkerton’s Voyages and Travels (London, 1808-1814),
xvi. 569.
109.2 J. Kreemer, “De Loeboes in Mandailing,” Bijdragen tot de
Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indië, lxvi. (1912) p.
323.
109.3 P. Rascher, M.S.C., “Die Sulka, ein Beitrag zur Ethnographie
Neu-Pommern,” Archiv für Anthropologie, xxix. (1904) p. 211; R.
Parkinson, Dreissig Jahre in der Südsee (Stuttgart, 1907), pp. 179
sq. In the East Indian island of Buru a man’s death is sometimes
supposed to be due to the adultery of his wife; but apparently the
notion is that the death is brought about rather by the evil magic of
the adulterer than by the act of adultery itself. See J. H. W. van der
Miesen, “Een en ander over Boeroe, inzonderheit wat betreft het
distrikt Waisama, gelegen aan de Z.O. Kust,” Mededeelingen van
wege het Nederlandsche Zendelinggenootschap, xlvi. (1902) pp.
451-454.
110.1 P. A. Talbot, “The Buduma of Lake Chad,” Journal of the
Royal Anthropological Institute, xli. (1911) p. 247.

Chapter V Notes
112.1 Humboldt, Voyage aux Régions Equinoxiales, viii. 273.
113.1 Alcide d’Orbigny, Voyage dans l’Amérique Méridionale, ii.
(Paris and Strasburg, 1839-1843) pp. 99 sq. As to the thieving
propensities of the Patagonians, the author tells us that “they do not
steal among themselves, it is true; but their parents, from their tender
infancy, teach them to consider theft from the enemy as the base of
their education, as an accomplishment indispensable for every one
who would succeed in life, as a thing ordained by the Evil Spirit, so
much so that when they are reproached for a theft, they always say
that Achekenat-Kanet commanded them so to do” (op. cit. p. 104).
Achekenat-Kanet is the supernatural being who, under various
names, is revered or dreaded by all the Indian tribes of Patagonia.
Sometimes he appears as a good and sometimes as a bad spirit.
See A. d’Orbigny, op. cit. ii. 87.
114.1 Plato, Laws, ix. 8, pp. 865 d-866 a; Demosthenes, xxiii. pp.
643 sq.; Hesychius, s.v. ἀπενιαυτισμός.
114.2 Aeschylus, Choëphor. 1021 sqq., Eumenides, 85 sqq.;
Euripides, Iphig. in Taur. 940 sqq.; Pausanias, ii. 31. 8, viii. 34. 1-4.
114.3 Demosthenes, xxiii. pp. 643 sq.
114.4 Demosthenes, xxiii. pp. 645 sq.; Aristotle, Constitution of
Athens, 57; Pausanias, i. 28. 11; Pollux, viii. 120; Helladius, quoted
by Photius, Bibliotheca, p. 535 a, lines 28 sqq. ed. I. Bekker (Berlin,
1824).
115.1 Plato, Laws, ix. 8, p. 866 C D.
115.2 Polybius, iv. 17-21.
115.3 Plutarch, Praecept. ger. reipub. xvii. 9.
115.4 Pausanias, ii. 31. 8.
Royal Anthropological Institute, xl. (1910) p. 431. The nature of the

ceremonial pollution (thahu) thus incurred is explained by Mr. Hobley
(op. cit. p. 428) as follows: “Thahu, sometimes called ngahu, is the
word used for a condition into which a person is believed to fall if he
or she accidentally becomes the victim of certain circumstances or
intentionally performs certain acts which carry with them a kind of ill
luck or curse. A person who is thahu becomes emaciated and ill or
breaks out into eruptions or boils, and if the thahu is not removed will
probably die. In many cases this undoubtedly happens by the
process of auto-suggestion, as it never occurs to the Kikuyu mind to
be sceptical on a matter of this kind. It is said that the thahu
condition is caused by the ngoma or spirits of departed ancestors,
but the process does not seem to have been analysed any further.”
See also above, pp. 93, 105.
116.1 Aeschylus, Eumenides, 280 sqq., 448 sqq.; id., quoted by
Eustathius on Homer, Iliad, xix. 254, p. 1183, ἐπιτήδειος ἐδόκει πρὸς
καθαρμὸν ὁ σῦς, ὡς δηλοῖ Αἰσχύλος ἐν τῷ, πρὶν ἂν παλαγμοῖς
αἵματος χοιροκτόνου αὐτός σε χρᾶναι Ζεὺς καταστάξας χεροῖν;
Apollonius Rhodius, Argonaut. iv. 703-717, with the notes of the
scholiast. Purifications of this sort are represented in Greek art. See
my note on Pausanias ii. 31. 8 (vol. iii. pp. 276 sqq.).
116.2 Lieutenant Thomas Shaw, “The Inhabitants of the Hills near
Rajamahall,” Asiatic Researches, Fourth Edition, iv. (London, 1807)
p. 78, compare p. 77.
116.3 See above, pp. 44 sqq.
116.4 Missionary Autenrieth, “Zur Religion der Kamerun-Neger,”
Mitteilungen der geographischen Gesellschaft zu Jena, xii. (1893)

pp. 93 sq.
117.1 V. Solomon, “Extracts from Diaries kept in Car Nicobar,”
Journal of the Anthropological Institute, xxxii. (1902) p. 227.
117.2 See my note on Pausanias, ii. 31. 8 (vol. iii. pp. 276 sqq.).
117.3 This was the view of C. Meiners (Geschichte der Religionen,
Hanover, 1806-1807, ii. 137 sq.), and of E. Rohde (Psyche3,

Tübingen and Leipsic, 1903, ii. 77 sq.).
117.4 καθαίρονται δ᾽ ἄλλως αἵματι μιανόμενοι οἶον εἴ τις εἰς πηλὸν
ἐμβὰς πηλῷ ἀπονίζοιτο, Heraclitus, in H. Diels’s Die Fragmente der
Vorsokratiker, Zweite Auflage, i. (Berlin, 1906) p. 62.
117.5 Pausanias, viii. 34. 3.
118.1 Rev. J. H. Bernau, Missionary Labours in British Guiana
(London, 1847), pp. 57 sq.; R. Schomburgk, Reisen in Britisch-
Guiana (Leipsic, 1847-1848), ii. 497.
118.2 J. Dumont D’Urville, Voyage autour du monde et à la
recherche de la Pérouse (Paris, 1832-1833), iii. 305.
118.3 John Bradbury, Travels in the Interior of America (Liverpool,
1817), p. 160.
118.4 Pomponius Mela, Chorogr. ii. 12, p. 35, ed. G. Parthey
(Berlin, 1867).
118.5 A. C. Hollis, The Nandi (Oxford, 1909), p. 27.
119.1 Major A. G. Leonard, The Lower Niger and its Tribes (London,
1906), pp. 180, 181 sq.
119.2 Mrs. Leslie Milne, Shans at Home (London, 1910), p. 192.
Among the Shans “in a case of capital punishment more than one
executioner assisted, and each tried to avoid giving the fatal blow, so
that the sin of killing the culprit should fall upon several, each bearing
a part. The unfortunate man was killed by reason of repeated sword
cuts, no one of which was sufficient to kill him, and died rather from
loss of blood than from one fatal blow” (Mrs. Leslie Milne, op. cit. pp.
191 sq.). Perhaps each executioner feared to be haunted by his
victim’s ghost if he actually despatched him.
119.3 Vincenzo Dorsa, La Tradizione greco-latina negli usi e nelle
credenze popolari della Calabria Citeriore (Cosenza, 1884), p. 138.
119.4 J. Liorel, Kabylie du Jurjura (Paris, N.D.), p. 441.
120.1 Lieut.-Colonel J. Shakespear, “The Kuki-Lushai clans,”
Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, xxxix. (1909) p. 380;
id., The Lushei Kuki Clans (London, 1912), pp. 78 sq.
120.2 J. H. West Sheane, “Wemba Warpaths,” Journal of the
African Society, No. 41 (October, 1911), pp. 31 sq.
120.3 Taboo and the Perils of the Soul, pp. 165 sqq.
120.4 Rev. E. Casalis, The Basutos (London, 1861), p. 258.
121.1 Father Porte, “Les Réminiscences d’un missionnaire du
Basutoland,” Les Missions catholiques, xxviii. (1896) p. 371.
122.1 Psanyi is half-digested grass found in the stomachs of
sacrificed goats (H. A. Junod, The Life of a South African Tribe, ii.
569).
122.2 Henri A. Junod, The Life of a South African Tribe (Neuchâtel,
1912-1913), i. 453-455. I have omitted some of the Thonga words
which Mr. Junod inserts in the text.
123.1 N. Adriani en Alb. C. Kruijt, De Bare’e-sprekende Toradja’s
van Midden-Celebes, i. (Batavia, 1912) p. 239.
123.2 Sir H. Johnston, The Uganda Protectorate (London, 1902), ii.
743 sq.; C. W. Hobley, Eastern Uganda (London, 1902), p. 20.
123.3 Extract from a type-written account of the tribes of Mount
Elgon, by the Hon. Kenneth R. Dundas, which the author kindly sent
to me.
123.4 Sir H. Johnston, op. cit. ii. 794; C. W. Hobley, op. cit. p. 31.
123.5 Pausanias, viii. 34. 3; compare Strabo, xii. 2. 3, p. 535.
124.1 E. Torday and T. A. Joyce, “Notes on the Ethnography of the
Ba-Yaka,” Journal of the Anthropological Institute, xxxvi. (1906) pp.
50 sq.
124.2 J. G. Frazer, “Folk-lore in the Old Testament,” in
Anthropological Essays presented to E. B. Tylor (Oxford, 1907), p.
108.
124.3 “Relation des Natchez,” Recueil de Voyages au Nord, ix. 24
(Amsterdam, 1737); Lettres édifiantes et curieuses, Nouvelle Édition,
vii. (Paris, 1781) p. 26; Charlevoix, Histoire de la Nouvelle France
(Paris, 1744), vi. 186 sq.
125.1 Ch. Keysser, “Aus dem Leben der Kaileute,” in R. Neuhauss’s
Deutsch Neu-Guinea (Berlin, 1911), iii. 147 sq.

125.2 Ch. Keysser, op. cit. p. 132.
126.1 R. E. Guise, “On the Tribes inhabiting the mouth of the
Wanigela River, New Guinea,” Journal of the Anthropological
Institute, xxviii. (1899) pp. 213 sq.
126.2 Rev. J. Owen Dorsey, “Omaha Sociology,” Third Annual
Report of the Bureau of Ethnology (Washington, 1884), p. 369.
127.1 Franz Boas, Chinook Texts (Washington, 1894), p. 258.
128.1 K. Vetter, “Über papuanische Rechtsverhältnisse, wie solche
namentlich bei den Jabim beobachtet wurden,” Nachrichten über
Kaiser Wilhelms-Land und den Bismarck-Archipel, 1897, p. 99; B.
Hagen, Unter den Papuas (Wiesbaden, 1899), p. 254.
128.2 Rev. J. H. Weeks, Among Congo Cannibals (London, 1913),
p. 268; compare id., “Anthropological Notes on the Bangala of the
Upper Congo River,” Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute,
xl. (1910) p. 373.
Royal Anthropological Intitute, xl. (1910) pp. 438 sq. As to the

sanctity of the fig-tree (mugumu) among the Akikuyu, see Mervyn W.
H. Beech, “The sacred fig-tree of the A-kikuyu of East Africa,” Man,
xiii. (1913) pp. 4-6. Mr. Beech traces the reverence for the tree to the
white milky sap which exudes from it when an incision is made in the
bark. This appears to have suggested to the savages the idea that
the tree is a great source of fertility to men and women, to cattle,
sheep, and goats.
129.2 N. Adriani en Alb. C. Kruijt, De Bare’e-sprekende Toradja’s
van Midden-Celebes, i. (Batavia, 1912) pp. 285, 290 sq. In recent

years the wars between the tribes have been suppressed by the
Dutch Government.
130.1 Compare The Belief in Immortality and the Worship of the
Dead, i. (London, 1913) pp. 136 sq., 278 sq., 468 sq.
130.2 Rev. E. B. Cross, “On the Karens,” Journal of the American
Oriental Society, iv. No. 2 (New York, 1854), pp. 312 sq.
130.3 Bringaud, “Les Karins de la Birmanie,” Les Missions
catholiques, xx. (1888) p. 208.

131.1 W. H. Keating, Narrative of an Expedition to the Sources of
St. Peter’s River (London, 1825), i. 109, quoting Mr. Barron.

131.2 Charlevoix, Histoire de la Nouvelle France (Paris, 1744), vi.
77, 122 sq.; J. F. Lafitau, Mœurs des sauvages amériquains (Paris,

1724), ii. 279.
131.3 H. von Rosenberg, Der malayische Archipel (Leipsic, 1878),
p. 461. Compare J. L. van Hasselt, “Die Papuastämme an der

Geelvinkbai (Neuguinea),” Mitteilungen der geographischen
Gesellschaft zu Jena, ix. (1891) p. 101.
131.4 K. Vetter, “Über papuanische Rechtsverhältnisse,” in
Nachrichten über Kaiser Wilhelms-Land und den Bismarck-Archipel
(1897), p. 94; B. Hagen, Unter den Papuas (Wiesbaden, 1899), p.
266.
131.5 Stefan Lehner, “Bukaua,” in R. Neuhauss’s Deutsch Neu-
Guinea (Berlin, 1911), iii. 444.

131.6 George Brown, D.D., Melanesians and Polynesians (London,
1910), pp. 142, 145.

132.1 John Jackson, in J. E. Erskine’s Journal of a Cruise among
the Islands of the Western Pacific (London, 1853), p. 477.

132.2 C. Wiese, “Beiträge zur Geschichte der Zulu im Norden des
Zambesi,” Zeitschrift für Ethnologie, xxxii. (1900) pp. 197 sq.
132.3 Rev. Samuel Mateer, The Land of Charity, a Descriptive
Account of Travancore and its People (London, 1871), pp. 203 sq.
132.4 E. W. Nelson, “The Eskimo about Bering Strait,” Eighteenth
Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, Part i.
(Washington, 1899) p. 423.
133.1 Rev. J. Owen Dorsey, “A Study of Siouan Cults,” Eleventh
Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology (Washington, 1894), p.
420.
133.2 Dr. P. H. Brincker, “Character, Sitten, und Gebräuche speciell
der Bantu Deutsch-Südwestafrikas,” Mitteilungen des Seminars für

orientalischen Sprachen zu Berlin, iii. dritte Abteilung (1900), pp. 89
sq.
133.3 Rev. R. H. Nassau, Fetichism in West Africa (London, 1904),
p. 220; M. Abeghian, Der armenische Volksglaube (Leipsic, 1899), p.

11.
133.4 H. A. Rose, “Hindu Birth Observances in the Punjab,” Journal
of the Royal Anthropological Institute, xxxvii. (1907) pp. 225 sq.

133.5 G. F. D’ Penha, “Superstitions and Customs in Salsette,” The
Indian Antiquary, xxviii. (1899) p. 115.

133.6 Census of India, 1911, vol. xiv. Punjab, Part I. (Lahore, 1912)
p. 303. As to these perturbed and perturbing spirits in India, see

further W. Crooke, Popular Religion and Folk-lore of Northern India
(Westminster, 1896), i. 269-274. They are called churel.
134.1 E. M. Gordon, Indian Folk Tales (London, 1908), p. 47.

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Humility and Human Flourishing : A

Study in Analytic Moral Theology

OXFORD STUDIES IN ANALYTIC THEOLOGY

Analytic Theology utilizes the tools and methods of contemporary

PUBLISHED TITLES INCLUDE:

Metaphysics and the Tri-Personal God

This book is dedicated to Lewis Winkler, Dave Dishman,

1. Philosophy, Theology, and Christian Virtue 1

Appendix: The Modules of Christian Humility 225

Philosophy, Theology, and

Humility is a complex, controversial, and misunderstood virtue. People

2 Humility and Human Flourishing

Philosophy, Theology, and Christian Virtue 3

4 Humility and Human Flourishing

Philosophy, Theology, and Christian Virtue 5

6 Humility and Human Flourishing

ANALYTIC MORAL THEOLOGY

In order to understand the nature of analytic moral theology, con-

Philosophy, Theology, and Christian Virtue 7

8 Humility and Human Flourishing

Given the nature and contemporary practice of analytic philosophy,

Philosophy, Theology, and Christian Virtue 9

10 Humility and Human Flourishing

Philosophy, Theology, and Christian Virtue 11

12 Humility and Human Flourishing

In this introductory chapter, it will be useful to discuss brieﬂy some of

Philosophy, Theology, and Christian Virtue 13

14 Humility and Human Flourishing

Philosophy, Theology, and Christian Virtue 15

Psychology Review 11 (2007): 150–66. See also http://hexaco.org/ for an overview of

16 Humility and Human Flourishing

Philosophy, Theology, and Christian Virtue 17

18 Humility and Human Flourishing

OVERVIEW OF THE BOOK

In this study, I articulate, defend, and consider several applications of

Philosophy, Theology, and Christian Virtue 19

A Christian Account of Humility

In this chapter, I offer an analysis of a Christian conception of the

A Christian Account of Humility 21

22 Humility and Human Flourishing

A Christian Account of Humility 23

24 Humility and Human Flourishing

A Christian Account of Humility 25

THE HUMILITY OF JESUS CHRIST

The conception of humility and of the humble person that I will

26 Humility and Human Flourishing

A Christian Account of Humility 27

28 Humility and Human Flourishing

HUMILITY IN PHILIPPIANS 2 AND 1 PETER 5

The Greek term tapeinophrosune is translated as “humility” in two

A Christian Account of Humility 29

30 Humility and Human Flourishing

A Christian Account of Humility 31

32 Humility and Human Flourishing

A Christian Account of Humility 33

34 Humility and Human Flourishing

het Nederlandsche Zendelinggenootschap, xliv. (1900) p. 162.

Midden-Celebes, i. (Batavia, 1912) p. 187.

landschappen Paloe, Dolo, Sigi, en Beromaroe,” Tijdschrift voor

1912-1913), ii. 60-62.

1904), pp. 342 sq., quoting the evidence of M. Gabriel Ferrand.

Driver, and Ch. A. Briggs (Oxford, 1906), p. 100.

Africa,” Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, xl. (1910) p.