By Blaney Pridgen

All writers in Op Ed are here to inform and acknowledge issues of importance to our communities, however these writings represent the views and opinions of the authors and not necessarily of The Advertiser.

At the lawn and garden section of Lowe’s, you will almost always see someone
paying for a heavy bag of dirt. They lifted it from a pallet stacked with dirt. Along
side that pallet are several varieties of dirt, dirt bags of varying size. Consider the
sizes, weights, and grubby descriptions of these various bags and the matter that
their exteriors are dusty and dirty, no wonder that a familiar pejorative in
demeaning a fellow is “dirt bag.” But this isn’t just dirt we are talking about,
hauling about, and paying too much for. This dirt is potting soil and topsoil
supposedly enriched in all kinds of chemicals that fertilize, murder bugs, and put
out the welcome mat for earthworms and moisture. Perhaps it is a good thing to be
called a dirtbag, but let’s not go down the next row to the manure and guano in
cultivating our invectives. They could not be good things.

What we are talking about are bags of hummus: rich, decaying matter where new
growth can sprout and take root. Hummus is usually associated with decaying
leaves and vegetable matter, the developing topsoil of a forest or the rotten mess in
a special barrel from the tabletops of thrifty and wise gardeners. Hummus is a very
good thing. In Latin, old French, and middle English, hummus is the root word for
humble and humility. It is also a root word for humiliating when we call someone
a dirtbag, but we aren’t going there. What is worth considering is that the human
quality or virtue of humility or being humble is somewhat related to the richness of
being where new life grows out of that which seems dying. We might say that
humility in a person is having both feet on the ground or being well-grounded. Or
it might be the virtue of earthiness in a good sense. What dies to become fertile is
pride and arrogance or just being a stinky mess instead of being a person of
genuine worth.

Humble people don’t talk a lot about themselves or try to draw attention to
themselves. Their tastes are not pretentious or gaudy. They ask how you are
feeling instead of telling you how they feel. Humble folk know their sins and
short-comings and are ready to confess them. Being a Christian by nature, I
believe that Jesus best captures the concept of humility in his Sermon on the
Mount, also know as the Beatitudes. The Beatitudes indirectly describe attitudes
of humility: blessed or happy are the poor in spirit; they don’t lord it over others
with their religiosity. Blessed or happy are those who readily mourn; they comfort
and are comforted and have apathy. Happy are the meek; they don’t always want
more and are easily satisfied. Blessed are those who work toward right
relationships; others will seek right relationships with them. Happy are the
merciful; they know what goes around will come around and are not big on firing
folks and retribution. Blessed are the pure in heart; they take no delight in
prurience, which debases others. Blessed are the active peacemakers; their activity
brings them near to God.
Digging around in the richness of the Bible, I find at least thirty sections that
strongly encourage humility in a person who might desire friendship with God, old
and new covenants. That’s best saved for bible studies, private devotions, and the
pulpit; nevertheless, I can’t help but see that humility like hummus and rich soil is
quite important, even for individuals with neither religion nor spirituality. It is also
a virtue with cultivation. Bad pun. Probably those of us without it won’t end up
very well. Nothing will grow from them.