Humble: what we want everyone else to be

Yesterday I spotted a comment by Rabbi Baruch Halevi Epstein (author of the Torah Temimah) in his commentary on the siddur, Baruch She'amar. Towards the end of his commentary on the Amidah, he picks up on the words "venafshi ke'afar lekol tihiyeh" ("and let my soul be like dust before everyone"). We say this formula at least three times a day, but what does it mean to us?  Do the good and the great in our communities actually want to be treated like dust? And as for those people who puff themselves up with their own self-importance -- do they even stop for a moment to consider that, with these words, they regularly petition God to burst their bubble and bring them down to earth?  When we think that these are the same people who object if we accidentally sit in their regular seat in shul, and who barge in front of us in queues or when seeking to access the delicacies at a laden kiddush table, we may well wonder what sort of thoughts, if any, they have when reciting this time-honoured formula.

From Avot we can see that humility is both recognised and strongly advocated as an essential element of human behaviour.  Shiflut ru'ach -- the opposite of self-importance -- is urged for example by Rabbi Levitas (Avot 4:4) and Rabbi Meir (Avot 4:12), while arrogance of spirit is identified as one of the tell-tale characteristics of an apparently frum individual who really follows the path of Balaam (Avot 5:22). And, for good measure, humility is listed as one of 48 things that enable a person to acquire Torah.  

We don't recite Avot three times a day and therefore have no excuse for routinely and thoughtlessly reciting it at the end of what might have been a long, heavy prayer session in which we bring more pressing matters before God: health, financial and political security, or whatever.  That's the advantage of Avot: we can learn and think about it in our own time, and in our own ways, which gives us a far better chance of being able to internalise its messages.