Perhaps you know that my next book project is on 30 Proverbs to live by. That might not be the final title, but it is the idea behind it – that we can go a long way in life if we embrace some solid truths that guide our response to life’s varied challenges. I recently floated the “regret should be a signpost not a home” idea, and in this post would like to explore the counsel to “wear your failure like a flag”.
It was the proverb given to me many years ago by a trusted mentor, Jim Johnston, who I continue to rank as one of the wisest people I have ever met. I spoke to him about a difficult situation I found myself in. By instinct I am a bit of a people pleaser, and hate the idea that I let anyone down or disappoint them. For people pleasers like myself, a dreaded position is to be forced to decide about something when you know that if you decide this way, you will disappoint this group of friends, and if you decide the other, you disappoint another greatly valued group. And you can’t get out of making the decision. I was in that spot – knowing that if I decided one way, a group of people who really mattered to me would feel badly let down, and if I decided the other, another group would feel betrayed.
“Regardless of what others think, what do you think you should decide?” Jim asked. Strange as it might sound, at the time the idea sounded novel to me – to preference my own view over what I thought others wanted. I guess the question contained hints of Polonius’s parting words to his son Laertes: “This, above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.” (Hamlet, Act 1, scene 3, 78–81) While there is wisdom in that, I am conscious that my own whims and preferences are not always noble, and am wary lest personal preference is simply an excuse for self-indulgence.
“But this isn’t about self indulgence” Jim pushed back. “This is about what you think you should do in this situation. You can take the views of others into account, but it is you, not them, who must live with the decision.”
I made my decision – which involved a job change and a major relocation. Some felt that I had failed at what I had been doing, and that was just that. But Jim’s counsel went deeper. Don’t just brush this under the carpet, “wear your failure like a flag”. It sounded like such a strange piece of advice at the time. Surely we should hurry away from our failures. After all, we write CV’s to trumpet our successes, and when we write them we often hope no one will question our claims too rigorously.
So why wear your failure like a flag?
Here is an interesting truth – perhaps even another proverb in the making. People respect us because of our achievements, but relate to us because of our vulnerability. Sometimes you have to ask which matters to you more – respect, or relationship. And what if the respect comes from their not really knowing you all that well?
If you are going for respect, carefully cultivate the image you project. Select the tales you are willing to tell about yourself. Give the appearance of being human by recounting some mildly self deprecating story (especially if you live in Australia, the UK or New Zealand – where a sense of self-importance is quickly squashed), but then subtly let people know that you are really amazing. Tell (and slightly exaggerate) your success stories.
Of course it is lovely if people respect you. But respect can be a lonely companion. It holds together only so long as you guard the stories you tell. It often doesn’t know what to make of your shadow self – and the trouble is, we all have a shadow self.
Why wear your failure like a flag? Don’t misunderstand me. I am not saying that there is something virtuous in failure, as though it is a goal we should strive for. But failures owned do speak of honesty, vulnerability, humility and willingness to grow.
There is something paradoxical in failure. Our disqualifying stories often turn out to be the ones that qualify us.
Why?
Because when we fail we dive into the truth of 2 Cor 12:10 “when I am weak, then I am strong“. It sounds upside down, but it is soberingly true. It is usually only when we are conscious of our frailty that we genuinely depend on God’s love and provision for us. For most of us, that kind of trust is our plan B “when all else fails, trust God to pull you through”. The reality is, trust and dependance upon God works best as plan A (and plan B, and plan C – and indeed, the only realistic plan for our life).
It is more than that though. When we are honest, we make it possible for others to be honest as well. Some years ago a woman at a church where I was pastor said to me, “Brian, you have so many lovely people in the congregation. But its a tough place for someone like me. As you know, I haven’t always had my life together. I’ve made more mistakes than most. I’m so grateful for the forgiveness and new start I have found in Jesus, but I am not sure I really fit in here. Everyone is just so squeaky clean.” I gaped at her in disbelief. I knew so many of the stories. Squeaky clean – please, it just wasn’t true. I remonstrated, “Well you might think that, but it isn’t actually true.” And then with a flash of insight I added, “You do realise, some of them probably assume the same thing about you.” “Surely not,” she replied. “Why wouldn’t they?” I asked back. “They only see you in your Sunday attire looking like a seasoned church goer. What else would they think?” She paused and thought. “Perhaps it’s time for us all to be a little more honest,” she said. Spot on, I thought. Wear your failure like a flag…
I never tire of recounting the creation of the first human found in Gen 2:7: “the Lord God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” The imagery is so striking. What does it mean to be human? The passage makes it clear – it is to be formed from the dust of the earth, and breathed into being by the breath of God. The first speaks of our frailty and vulnerability (you are just the dust of the earth); the second of our infinite value (you are the breath of God). In one verse we are told of how small we are, and of how majestic we are. And both are true! Therefore I do not need to run from my “dust of the earth” stories – because I know that on the other side of that story, there is a God breathed truth, God has given me new life. Add to this the forgiveness offered through the Cross of Calvary, and our conversations can be real, rich, hope filled and affirming.
So wear your failure like a flag – for when you are weak, the astonishing strength of God is close at hand…
Nice chatting…
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