Vice #1
Today on Choosing Peace you’ll read about a cupcake, plastic and a gift or two.
Well, Peaceful Readers, we just spent six posts taking a deep dive into The Four Flavors of Denial. What now? We’ll start looking at the other three barriers to forgiving: Pride, fear and anger.
Pride
Let’s start with pride—The Granddaddy of The Seven Deadly Sins. Pride has many angles. I’m the boss. I’m better than you. I’m smarter than you. Look at me! Tell me how great I am. Etcetera. You’ve probably heard this, but I’ll say it anyway. At the center of pride stands the letter I. And that basically says it all. When I’m at the center of my thoughts, I will reject people that God made in his image. I will reject people that God chose. I will reject people that God called or will call. I will reject my brothers and sisters in the family of God. I will call “unclean” what God has called “clean.”
I highly recommend this sermon, “The Deadly Sin of Pride,” preached from Daniel 4 about King Nebuchadnezzar. In this sermon, our pastor encourages “deep moral reflection,” and he’s right. We need that. Daniel 4 ends with this key verse:
“Now I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise and extol and honor the King of heaven; for all his works are truth, and his ways justice; and those who walk in pride he is able to humble.”
Daniel 4:37, New Heart English Bible
Dominoes, cats and warnings
I learned in that sermon why The Church Fathers regarded seven particular sins as Capital Sins, with pride being #1. Capital Sins lead to other sins. Watch this falling dominoes video—with cats for added entertainment value. (It’ll make sense in a minute.)
The cat and domino video shows rather dramatically how one thing leads to another. The sin of pride leads to other sins—committed again and again and again. And before you know it, what was once standing has fallen down. In the Bible, God warns us many times about the danger of pride.
Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.
Proverbs 16:18, New Heart English Bible
Number 1—in a bad way
Why is pride considered The #1 Capital Sin? The Granddaddy of All Sins? Because pride says: “Get lost, God. I’m the boss.” When I’m the boss, things eventually become a mess. When I reject God, I don’t think rightly and I don’t choose rightly. Eventually, my world—the empire I think I created—starts to crumble.
The vice and the virtue
We find one of the key concepts about pride in 1 Peter 5:5c. “…God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble” (NHEB). The word resists is frequently translated opposes. Are we wise when we stand in opposition to God Almighty? Uhhh, no. Opposing God doesn’t go so well. I can testify to that.
The bigger picture
Here’s the whole verse, plus the next two:
Likewise, you younger ones, be subject to the elder. Yes, all of you clothe yourselves with humility, towards one another; for God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble. Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time; casting all your worries on him, because he cares for you.
1 Peter 5:5-7, New Heart English Bible
One of my 12 favorite scriptures talks about walking humbly with God.
Me, myself and I
Pride can be subtle sometimes. Do I prefer having my way when your way is valid? Do I think, “You’re stupid. How could you ________?” “If I was in charge, I would ________.” “Why are you ________?” When people treat you as lower than them, does it chap your hide? It sure chaps mine.
The grip of the vice
Unfortunately, I have a lot of experience in The Pride Department. From a previous post:
Lonely world
My dad’s narcissism built a dangerous and lonely world where people were graded and classified. They weren’t treasured or known. They weren’t taught or helped. I was graded and I was taught to grade other people. One of the big struggles of my adult life has been to trash the pride and embrace humility. If you’ve struggled at all in this area, I think you’ll find this sermon series—The Humble and The Proud—enlightening and helpful.
Read more in When the Need to Forgive Has Been Hidden, part 1.
A man named James
Here’s an example from several years ago. Brandon and I took our Suburban to get it cleaned and to have a little work done. The man who was helping us had lots of tattoos. I was walking behind him, thinking, “Why did he do that to himself?” Yah, yah, yah. Translation: “I’m better than him.” When I saw him face-to-face, I saw the beautiful crucifix he was wearing. I shook his hand, I told him I liked his necklace, and I was blessed by his beaming smile. This man—I’ll call him James—is my brother in the Lord, and I walked behind him thinking prideful thoughts. That was wrong. I was wrong. I almost missed out on a very sweet, albeit short, exchange. There was more to James than I could see. Much more. And I still remember his real name. This encounter stuck with me.
C4 times 2
If you’ve read Choosing Peace for long, you know that I’m a big fan of chocolate. My mom used to drop off a Chocolate Chip Coffee Cake at our house every now and then while I was at work. Was that sweet or what? When I write about Chocolate Chip Coffee Cake in my journal, sometimes I call it C4 for short. Guess what, Peaceful Readers? Pride has a C4 too.
My pride toward James shows a dangerous truth. Pride puts walls between people. “Because I’m better than you, _____________.”
Categories. Classifications. Comparisons. Competitions. C4. And not in a good way.
Discernment is one thing.
Pride is something else altogether.
Another flavor
Pride doesn’t only apply to people we view as lesser than we are. It also applies to people who we view as being or having more. “I don’t understand why anyone would live in a house that big. That is ridiculous.” “I can’t believe people throw their money away like that.” “I would never drive a car that expensive.” Yadda, yadda, yadda.
The retreat
I’m writing this post from my first-ever Writing Retreat—my birthday gift to myself for my 60th birthday. Yes, I considered not telling you how old I am, but that would be prideful, wouldn’t it? So I added my age to remind myself to dump the pride and be humble and thankful instead.
Packing
Yesterday as I was packing, the word from the Lord was: “You don’t need that.” In other words, “Don’t bring water. Drink theirs.” “Don’t bring your pillows. Use theirs.” “Don’t bring that pair of shorts. You don’t need it.” “Don’t bring your lotion. Use theirs.” “Don’t blow-dry your hair. Go as you are.” “Don’t bring your camera. Use your phone.” “Don’t bring that store-bought Chicken Pot Pie. Bring simple stuff instead.” Frankie Ann, you will not be using a microwave this weekend.
In the end, the overarching, unspoken question was: “Do you trust me?” And I answered: “Yes.”
The gift
When I arrived at the Airbnb at a farm an hour from home, there was a birthday card and a cupcake for me in the fridge. Who needs Chicken Pot Pie? Seriously. Just ask my pal Charlene. We’ve been talking a lot about cake recently. What can I say. I’m in a cake mood. And what did God give me? He gave me cake. He gave me the desire of my heart—from someone I’ve never met. That, Peaceful Readers, is the goodness of God—and A Kiss On The Head from Jesus.
The other day when I was shopping at Aldi, I texted Charlene a photo of all the cake mixes and frostings in my cart. I decided to stock up for a rainy or sad or bizarre or unexpected day. What can I say. Cake lifts my spirits.
A matter of trust
Are pride and trust related? Yes, indeed. How so? Let’s start with pride and humility, which are most-definitely related because they’re opposites. Pride is a vice, and humility is the corresponding virtue. Pride goes one direction and humility goes the other. Pride goes inward. Humility goes outward. (For a list of vices and their respective, opposite virtues, see Questions and Answers, part 2.)
Walking in pride
When I’m walking in pride, I’m trusting myself instead of trusting God. Pride rejects God. It wrongly elevates me to a god-like position over my life—my decisions, my thoughts, my actions, my words, my relationships—my everything and everyone. God says, “Yes.” Prideful me says, “No.” God says, “Stop.” I say, “Go.” God says, “Come here.” I say, “No way.”
Plastic fantastic
Do I trust God implicitly or do I want to run the show called Frankie Ann’s Epically-Fantastic Life? Last month, a fairly new arrival in our life group—I’ll call her Molly—used the phrase Plastic Fantastic to describe the air-brushed, Fakebook, superficial, bubble gum, Insta-Snap “whatever” garbage that’s all over the place. I mean social media. Plastic Fantastic. I cracked up. And I told Molly that I’d be using her expression in my blog. I wasn’t sure when or how; and here it is.
Am I authentic and sincere or am I stuck in a Plastic Fantastic virtual reality? Am I humble enough to rightly reveal The Real Me or am I putting on some show? Do I trust the Lord or am I doing my own thing?
Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways remember him, and he will make your paths straight.
Proverbs 3:5-6, New Heart English Bible
An earlier NHEB translation said: “In all your ways acknowledge him….” Check out The Prayer, part 6 for more about these important Bible verses.
Heart failure
In the end, pride is a trust issue and a heart issue—a failure to regard God and myself rightly. He is high and I am low. He is right and—unless I’m doing things his way—I am wrong. He is all powerful and I am not. He is the Creator and I am the created. He is perfect and I, most certainly, am not.
What you owe
What makes pride a barrier to forgiving? When I think I’m better than you, smarter than you, better looking than you, wiser than you, more well-behaved than you, richer than you, more fun than you—blah, blah, blah—and you have deigned to offend or hurt me, why would The Almighty Me forgive The Lowly You? The Screw-up You? The Loser You? The Buffoon You? The “Whatever” You? Pride says, “Hey, you. Scumbag. Low-life. Wake up. It’s groveling time. You owe me The Gift-Wrapped Apology! Where is it?!?”
What, pray tell, is The Gift-Wrapped Apology? Here’s an important section from What Forgiving Is and Isn’t, part 1:
The gift-wrapped apology
…The first and most important part of The Gift-Wrapped Apology is the gift itself. This gift sits inside an attractive, sturdy box. The gift is a complete acknowledgement of what they did wrong, including the pain their actions caused—with remarkable insight and compassion to see things from your point of view. That’s quite a gift, isn’t it? The second part of The Gift-Wrapped Apology is the wrapping paper. That’s the sincerity, with absolutely no ulterior motive involved. That sounds beautiful, doesn’t it? Sparkly, even. And, last but not least, the third part is the fluffy, luxurious bow on The Gift-Wrapped Apology. That’s the clearly-communicated remorse—major regret—perhaps with a promise to never do it again. Goodness. Miracles never cease.
The fantasy
Now I realize that I sounded a little sassy in the paragraph above. But—seriously, people. Sometimes we have this fantasy in our minds that The Gift-Wrapped Apology would magically undo or fix everything, like some cosmic Trauma Eraser. And it doesn’t. It doesn’t. The Gift-Wrapped Apology doesn’t undo the trauma and/or the loss. It doesn’t eliminate the short-term or the long-term impact on our lives. It doesn’t erase the memories or the feelings. It doesn’t get rid of the fall-out, which can include bitterness, spinning thoughts, unforgiveness and much more.
The myth
The Gift-Wrapped Apology—something that is so idolized—is a destructive myth. We dream of receiving The Gift-Wrapped Apology when we say or think things like this: “If only he/she/they would apologize for _________, that would fix everything.” Not true, Cindy Lu. Heavy sigh.
We idolize The Gift-Wrapped Apology because we want a quick, easy fix to a rather complex problem. The problem of pain. The problem of trauma. The problem of abuse. The problem of neglect. The problem of loss. We dream that there’s a magic pill that we can take that will immediately fix all the pain, the memories, the problems. We think The Gift-Wrapped Apology is that magic pill. And it isn’t.
We have a natural inclination to run from our problems and the feelings we don’t like. That’s what the myth of The Gift-Wrapped Apology is all about.
To learn how to lay down a trauma or loss, start reading here. For more, read about The Healing Journey and check out the index.
The punisher, the preacher and the parable
At the core
In this post, you can read about a time when someone fervently expected The Gift-Wrapped Apology from me. Who was that someone? My younger sibling—I mean Pam, The Punisher—also known as Pam, The Almighty. Start reading at the section called The Ultimatum. Or, if you have time, read the whole post—The Big Why, part 4. It’s a big one. Evil. Control. Seeing the truth. Using the religious cover. Reconciliation. Forgiving. God’s protection.
What sits at the core of Pam’s mental illness—her malignant narcissism? The sin of pride. And that’s not only because she’s a self-absorbed, condescending, showboating, controlling, abusive narcissist. Since pride is the #1 Capital Sin, it sits at the core of each and every sin. Every single one. All the other sins ooze out of pride. Remember the falling dominoes….
The pride test
One Sunday this summer, a guest preacher’s sermon on pride contained a show stopper. At 20 minutes into the sermon, he gave us a Pride Test. Ouch. The point about timidity stung me. Listen carefully to that section. I recommend the whole sermon. It’s excellent—challenging and thought-provoking. His story about the waitress will melt your heart. Later he said: “Humility blesses and revitalizes relationships.” Amen to that. Those five words are speaking powerfully to me today.
“Humility blesses and revitalizes relationships.”
Bryan Loritts ~ The Summit Church in Durham, NC
Mine and yours
Growing up in a household with two narcissists meant that I was surrounded by pumped-up pride, to the tenth power. I was drowning in it. And not just “their” pride. I was drowning in my pride. My people-pleasing. My lies. My comparisons. My attempts to appear “better than” other people.
How would you describe your experiences with pride? In your family? In your work? In your community? In your church? In your own heart and life? It’s easier to spot someone else’s pride than it is to zero-in on our own. For help in this area, dig into this post about The Parable of The Unforgiving Servant. It’s extremely eye-opening.
Embracing humility
Do you need to ditch the sin of pride and embrace the virtue of humility? First, take the Pride Test described above and listen to the whole sermon. Then take these steps faithfully. (1) Pray humbly to God every day—telling him what you need and thanking him for his many blessings; (2) serve others faithfully—without score-keeping or requiring anything in return; (3) problem-solve in truth, love and courage—laying down any people-pleasing; (4) apologize promptly, sincerely and humbly.
And, last but not least, (5) forgive others quickly, with no strings attached—treating them how you’d like to be treated. For clarity on the often-misunderstood issue of forgiving, walk slowly through the 12 parts of What Forgiving Is and Isn’t.
The humble king
Jesus is the humblest person who ever lived. The greatest and also the humblest. What a shocking combination. Jesus came to serve, not to be served. If you’d like to explore the beautiful heart of Christ, read Gentle and Lowly—one of my favorite books.
I think you’ll love the song below. I found it yesterday, very unexpectedly. It reminds me of the tender heart of Jesus and his profound humility.
Coming next: We’ll move on to one of the other barriers to forgiving. Will it be fear or anger? I don’t have the foggiest idea. I’m looking forward to all the surprises I’ll find along the way.
Thanks for reading and for Choosing Peace.
Truth from The Word: Isaiah 44:21-26
Song: “My Redeemer is Faithful and True” by Fountainview Academy
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