Category: Pride

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A Plank, A Rock & A Baby Ewe Lamb

The peril of a life lived as a critic means that one sees only the flaws in everyone else, but refuses to acknowledge the same flaws in themselves. The danger is the damage created by the individual who has no self-awareness for his/her own sin, but freely attacks or exposes other’s sin. Ironically, how many times has the critic been found committing the same sin as those he/she attacks? As the finger points, three more tend to point back at the accuser.

The climax to the Sermon on the Mount (Mt. 5-7) is a warning to the listeners where danger lurks when judgmental attitudes prevail. The imagery given is the person criticizing someone with a speck in his/her eye while ignoring the plank in their own eye. The humorous scene of someone claiming to help another with their “sawdust of a problem” does more damage to that person because he/her is constantly being smacked in the head by a 2×4.

When they dragged the woman before the crowds, they weren’t looking for justice. They were looking to trap and trick Jesus. They were creating a show with her and Jesus on center-stage; they might as well have been selling popcorn, peanuts and programs. But Jesus refused to play their games. His writing in the sand was likely a distraction to take the attention off the woman (if she was “caught in the very act of adultery,” where’s the guy?). With Jesus wedged between upholding the law while providing mercy for an exploited woman, he looked at her accusers in the eye. He proposed, “If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her” (Jn. 8:7). With the younger men ready to launch their rocks, the older ones dropped theirs to the ground and left, leading the young with them. If you’re going to be quick to accuse, then your own life needs to be guilt free.

In the wake of David’s sin with Bathsheba, he was graced by a visit from his prophet and friend, Nathan (David has a son named Nathan and it may say something about his fondness for the prophet). Nathan shared with the king an injustice. A wealthy man, with a flock of sheep, confiscated the only sheep owned by a penniless man. The ewe lamb was like a house pet to the poor man. The wealthy man had a friend traveling through and refused to sacrifice one his own flock or herd, so he stole from the poor man. Outraged, David visibly saw in this scene made him blind to his own sin. Nathan’s words were direct while cutting to the heart, “You’re the man!” (2 Sam. 12:7a).

Clearly, the critical and judgmental life is hardly encouraged in Scripture. Just as clear is how easily we endorse the critical and judgmental life as a means of defending truth, the gospel or Scripture. In other words, we need to fix their attitude, perspective and doctrine because ours is just fine if not perfect. Let the finger pointing begin as we do so in the name of Truth, the Gospel and Scripture. Let the three fingers pointing back at us be our indictment.

If there were a way to soften the critic within us and to stop the finger pointing, then at least two steps must be taken. First, take a good look in the mirror. Work on yourself before working on others. The bible is intended to reveal the heart of the one reading it (Jas.1:22-25). And while the image of the sword prevails in Hebrews 4:12, the link to the sword is its “sharpness” not its weaponry. So yes, the Word penetrates to your own soul and spirit. If God’s Word is going to convict and confront, it must convict and confront the person reading it, or holding it, before applying it to others and should never be weaponized.

Secondly, when the time comes to address something in a person’s life, and that time will come, humility and compassion must be the tip of the spear. Paul tells the Galatians that when someone is caught in a sin, restoration is a gentle process (Gal. 6:1). It’s not about hurting the person with your plank or by the stone in your hand, but through weakness, compassion and understanding. No wonder Paul clarifies that the restoration process is led by someone spiritual.

The danger of a life lived as a critic is that it ultimately pits me against them. I’m the good and they’re the bad. And when that happens, we’re not only blinded to God’s will but we widen the gulf between each other, a gulf that was bridged by a lamb’s sacrifice.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)

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The Faith Continuum: Striking the Balance Between Fear & Arrogance

“I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24)

Not long ago I watched a video of someone trying to speak into the anxiety we’re experiencing as a society. He discussed the tension between fear and faith. The perspective he offered provided a single choice between two clearly defined actions: fear or faith. With lines drawn we’re given a specific choice, and the biblical narrative accentuates the two decisions: we can either act in faith or fear.  

When the disciples are crossing the Sea of Galilee in the storm and, whether Jesus is sleeping in the boat (Mk. 4:35-41) or walking on the water (Mk. 6:47-52), their reaction is the same, fear instead of faith. When Jesus is arrested, the twelve scattered into the night, choosing fear instead of faith (Mk. 14:40). The fear of the young man present was so strong he’d rather be caught naked than with Jesus (Mk. 14:51). Following the resurrection, and right before Jesus appeared to them, ten of the disciples were hiding behind locked doors in fear of the Jews (Jn. 20:19). If they came after Jesus, they’re coming after the twelve.

We know fear. It paralyzes our faith and keeps us from stepping out of the boat and onto the water. Once walking in faith, it draws our eyes off of Jesus and onto the waves so that we sink. Fear keeps us from making decisions. Doubt and guilt jump on board for fear tells us, “what if the alternative we make is the wrong choice?” So we resort to a “no-decision” believing it’s the safest decision. And in the process, faith is pushed to the corner of our lives where it simply collects dust.

For the longest time I saw fear and faith as the only options. I now feel it’s more complicated. First, while fear stands on one side of faith, arrogance stands on the other. Arrogant pride is often harder to dissect for it comes off as confidence. And the assurance is not in God, but self. It does not point to God but to self. Samson thumbing his nose at God and his parents by violating his Nazarite vow (see Judges 14:3 which should be translated, “she’s the right one in my eyes”). Jesus told the parable of the two men going to the temple to pray, and the prideful one bragged about his piety and measured his spirituality against the guy next to him (Lk. 18:9-14). When the devil tempted Jesus, he quoted from Psalm 91 (ironically, a Psalm that many have posted on FaceBook), tempting Jesus to jump to his “death.” Jesus refused the bait and warned the devil of putting God to the test (Lk. 4:9-11).  Jesus’ challenges us to seek humility, for if not on your own, God will ensure humility (Lk. 18:14).

But the second realization is that faith is all about a continuum, as degrees are present on either side of faith. The father in Mark 9 had a level of faith, but his faith was somewhere between faith and fear. Peter had faith, but when he promised to die with Jesus (Mk. 14:29), his faith was somewhere between faith and arrogance. While we aim for faith, we generally find ourselves fluctuating between fear and faith or faith and arrogance.

So here we stand in faith, which is now feeling like a moving target. And it is. And it’s always felt like a moving target, not because God moves it but we move it. Faith’s “move” occurs because we fluctuate between fear and arrogance. Faith “moves” because of our sinful nature will not allow us to remain steady. So in truth, faith is constant, we are not.

So how do you know where you stand? If you’re even asking this question, you’re probably closer to acting in faith than you think. If you’re pointing the spotlight on others and off of yourself, you’re probably standing closer to faith than you think. If your biblical assurance is mixed with the humble reality of “I could be wrong,” then you’re probably drawn to faith more than you think. If you have a heart to serve your neighbor, then you’re inching your way to faith more than you think. If you speak in confessional tones, then you’re probably nearer to faith than you think. If you make decisions based on the good of others more than what’s good for you, then your edging closer to faith more than you think.

“I do believe,” was the cry of the father. It’s our cry too as we continue to walk in faith without fear or arrogance.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)

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BEFORE THE FALL: Walking Humbly with Your God

When the serpent tempted Adam and Eve in the garden, he attacked a vulnerable area: pride. First, he cast doubt on God’s promised provisions (Gen. 3:1). Then he deceptively undermined God’s authority by casting suspect on sin’s fallout (Gen. 3:4). Finally, he fueled their arrogance by questioning God’s motive for keeping them away from the tree of knowledge of good and evil (Gen. 3:5). In their new found inflated ego, they wanted a “piece of the pie” or a “piece of the action.” God was holding out on them, they believed. Since the fruit looked like it was ripe and juicy to the taste buds (Gen. 3:6), they ate it, dealing with the consequences later.

They say “pride comes before the fall” (see Prov. 16:18), and the ominous overtones to such a statement carries cataclysmic ramifications with the Genesis 3 narrative overlaying Proverbs 16.

Pride. As the world moved into the 20th Century, the uptake was positive and filled with optimistic hope. The world felt like it was sailing on a sea of blue skies and gentle breezes. Humanity was maturing, evolving and advancing. The Industrial Revolution created wealth while fast-tracking international trade. Science based engineering was producing better sanitation and living conditions while long plaguing diseases were about to meet their end through vaccinations. Air conditions, radio waves, steam engine turbines, gas-motored and manned airplanes were sweeping the country. Albert Einstein developed the theory of relativity while Thomas Edison unveiled talking motion pictures. Wars, regulated only to the history books, were no longer susceptible to dawn out affairs and were now far more sanitized. Yes, man was on top of the world and nothing was going to stop him now.

Fall. The very nature of man’s existence was challenged when a massive, four year-drawn-out war engulfed the world. Machines, intended to shorten the war, only exasperated it. Picturesque terrain was burned and destroyed. Trenches were dug, ripe for diseases to spread. And spread they did. Men were sickened by lice, rats and its feces. Kidneys were inflamed and feet swelled; amputations were far too common. The soldiers could not escape the cold and damp winter days leading to multiple infectious diseases. Twenty million deaths with nearly 21 million casualties suffered during the war. Those who survived lost more than their limbs, they lost their humanity. No, they lost their soul. Modern technology, the glory of mankind, became the very element that dehumanized and destroyed humanity.

Scripture reminds us that humility is the path to walk. Both James and Peter quote the verse from Proverbs 3:34, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (Jam. 4:6; 1 Pet.5:5). Peter is the one who adds for us to clothe ourselves in humility and to humble ourselves before God for he will be the one who lifts us up (1 Pet. 5:6). Micah tells us to embrace mercy and justice while walking humbly with God (Mic. 6:8b). Some of Jesus’ teachings were prefaced with a rebuke to those who were prideful of their own self-righteousness (e.g., Lk. 18:9).

Since pride and humility are abstract concepts, the need to describe them in concrete terms is a difficult process. They are also polar opposites, so that sometimes the best way to experience them is to see them in contrast.

Pride forces people to serve themselves while humility willingly serves others. When Jesus addressed leadership concerns among the Twelve, he described the power-down model where the guy at the top tells those below him what to do. Then he turns the table and admonishes them to invert the pyramid by using their position to serve others (see Mk.10:42-45). A humble person hears the voice of Jesus to model his behavior after him and look for an opportunity to help aid others. Serving maybe as simple as bussing a table or as complex as cooking a meal or as degrading as washing feet.

Pride demands to be right while humility allows room for error. That “room for error” part is the key, because none of us have a monopoly on perspective. We don’t see perfectly, as we’re blinded by our own bias. So Paul’s plea for the Philippi church (Phil. 2:3-4) is to stop pushing and pursuing a personal agenda, but entertain the possibility that your neighbor may actually be right, or just be more right than you.

Pride seeks a God who performs loudly while humility knows God acts in the stillness. One of the problems with Elijah was that he felt that his God always did the big stuff, like the fire from heaven to consume the altar (1 King. 18:16-39). But God works far more behind the scenes and in the quietness of the heart (1 King. 19:11-14). Instead of seeking God to outdo what he did last week, we simply seek God for his continual presence. We slow down and listen to a God who already is speaking to us (Ps. 46:10).

The problem in the garden was pride and it has continued to be humanity’s Achilles heel. We can figure out how to deflate our egos and tone down the rhetoric ourselves and begin walking humbly with God, or we can take the fall when it comes. Because it will come.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)