Wear Your Failure Like a Flag
By: Brian Harris
I recently floated the idea that regret should be a signpost not a home, and in this post I 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 might let anyone down or disappoint them. For people pleasers like myself, a dreaded position is to be forced to make a decision knowing that if you go one way, you will disappoint one group of friends, and if you go the other, you will disappoint another. And you can’t avoid making the decision.
“Regardless of what others think, what do you think you should decide?” Jim asked. Strange as it might sound, the idea was new to me – to preference my own view over what I thought others wanted. The question echoed the words of Polonius to Laertes in Hamlet:
“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.”
While there is wisdom in that, I remain aware that my own whims are not always noble. I am wary that personal preference might simply become an excuse for self-indulgence.
“But this isn’t about self-indulgence,” Jim said. “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 thought I had failed at what I had been doing. But Jim’s counsel went deeper. “Don’t just brush this under the carpet,” he said, “wear your failure like a flag.” It sounded strange at the time. Surely we should hurry away from failure. We write CVs to trumpet our successes, and hope no one questions them too thoroughly.
The Respect Trap and the Power of Vulnerability
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 we need to ask what matters more – respect, or relationship? And what if the respect others have for us comes from not really knowing us all that well?
If your goal is respect, you carefully manage your image. You tell selective stories. You appear human by sharing a mildly self-deprecating anecdote (especially if you live in Australia, the UK or New Zealand, where self-importance is swiftly squashed), then subtly let people know you are actually quite impressive. You exaggerate your success stories.
Of course it is lovely if people respect you. But respect can be a lonely companion. It survives only if you keep guarding your stories. It cannot handle your shadow self – and the truth is, we all have one.
Wearing your failure like a flag is not about celebrating failure for its own sake. It is about embracing honesty, vulnerability, humility and a willingness to grow.
When Weakness is Strength
There is a paradox to failure. Our disqualifying stories often turn out to be the ones that qualify us.
Why?
Because failure draws us into the truth of 2 Corinthians 12:10 – “when I am weak, then I am strong.” It sounds upside down, but it is soberingly true. Only when we are conscious of our frailty do we truly depend on God’s love and provision. 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, dependence on God is best as plan A (and B and C – the only realistic plan for life).
Honest Souls and Squeaky-Clean Illusions
When we are honest, we give others permission to be honest too.
Years ago, a woman at my church said to me, “Brian, there are so many lovely people in this congregation. But it’s a tough place for someone like me. I haven’t always had my life together. I’ve made more mistakes than most. I’m grateful for the forgiveness and new start I’ve found in Jesus, but I’m not sure I fit in. Everyone seems so squeaky clean.”
I gaped in disbelief. I knew so many of the stories. “Squeaky clean? It just isn’t true,” I replied. I added, “You know, some of them probably assume the same thing about you.”
“Surely not,” she said.
“Why wouldn’t they?” I asked. “They see you in your Sunday clothes, looking like a seasoned churchgoer. What else would they think?”
She paused. “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.
Dust and Breath: The Paradox of Being Human
I never tire of recounting the creation of the first human in Genesis 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 rich. What does it mean to be human?
The passage makes it plain. To be human is to be formed from the dust of the earth and filled with the breath of God. The first speaks of our frailty and vulnerability (we are dust), the second of our infinite value (we are breathed into by God). In one verse, we are told how small we are, and how majestic. Both are true.
So I do not need to run from my “dust of the earth” stories – because I know that on the other side of that story is the God-breathed truth. God has given me new life. Add to that 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.
Article supplied with thanks to Brian Harris.
About the Author: Brian is a speaker, teacher, leader, writer, author and respected theologian who is founding director of the AVENIR Leadership Institute, fostering leaders who will make a positive impact on the world.
Feature image: Canva
