Whatever IS Noble, Anyway?
By Rob Krosley
“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” –Philippians 4:8 (NIV)
It’s hard to remember the last time I used the word “noble” in an earnest fashion.
Nobility, even as an abstract concept, tends to induce winces or eyerolls from most people today. The idea of nobility (or even honor, as this word is translated in the ESV) often seems to suggest the connection of power or position with virtue. But since power is built into the definition, it becomes hard to think of nobility as a virtue. History has taught us to be vigilant against inequality, oppression, and injustice, and nobility seems to require a sense of inequality to operate at all. It’s not a word that seems made for the modern day.
A few years ago, I went through The Lord of the Rings books with a chapter-by-chapter podcast. The host had to continually re-contextualize the monarchical language that praised things like “condescension” and “kingliness” as virtues. In a world of kings, Tolkien imagined what a “good king” would look like: one who “condescends” by bringing himself down from his powerful position to meet those who serve him.
This virtuous kingliness is not often what we see in our modern leaders. For several years before taking a position at The Carver Project, I served as a policy researcher in the Missouri Senate. Working in politics, I recognized that the functional lodestar for many in power seemed to be pragmatism. Justifications for deviating from virtuous conduct abounded:
“Just look how the other side is acting.”
“We’ll never win if we don’t fight.”
“If I don’t do what it takes to stay here, I won’t be here to do the good stuff.”
“You’ve got to crack a few eggs to make an omelet.”
Time and again, I saw these moral compromises, small and large, come back to bite those who made them. The “other side” would escalate and “demand” further retribution. “Wins” would have to be redefined to justify the “fights.” Members who compromised their virtues never got around to seizing opportunities to do the “good stuff” or lost their opportunities to stick around anyway. Meanwhile, their constituents often found themselves disappointed by those they chose to entrust with representative power.
The rationalizations and results I saw in politics make me think of director David Lowery’s recent adaptation of “The Green Knight.” In the film, Sir Gawain faces a choice between acting honorably—a path that in this case leads to near-certain death—or instead saving his own neck and retreating to a life that he believes will lead to “honor” being bestowed upon him. Of course, even this life leads to unforeseeable pains including the very consequence he is trying to avoid: his own demise. He can’t escape a mortal fate, and he is confronted with the reality that the only things he can control are his own choices to embrace or dismiss integrity.
This depiction of honor and nobility–one that accepts mortality and adheres to integrity–stuck with me long after the lights in the theater came up. Of course it’s easy to call out our leaders or those we feel have wronged us, but Sir Gawain’s example resonated with me and drew my thoughts back to the plank in my own eye. I recognized that my life is filled with myriad choices to act honorably or try to find the pragmatic way around my values and commitments. It’s far too often that I try to escape the inevitable by choosing the latter. And while it’s easy to dismiss describing myself as “powerful,” I know that I have a position and a privilege that enables me to act in this world. I get to choose what to do with that responsibility. Far too often again, I fail to steward my power, whatever the amount, in the manner of a good king.
Our reticence to extol the virtues of “nobility” and “honor” reflects the truth that there is only one truly Good King. Paul exhorts us to recognize and emulate His characteristics: truth, beauty, purity, and yes, nobility. Where we have power, we must use it wisely and nobly for those who have less. When we are faced with choices to live with integrity, even when we have a “better” idea of how to get what we want, we must choose the truly honorable path.
Rob Krosley is the Communications and Project Manager for The Carver Project.