Pride Parade

There is a story out there about a Bible Study at Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, that happened thusly:

The Bible study leader stated that pride is a sin.  One of the attendees asked if pride was still a sin if you were proud of your family, proud that they'd turned out so well and how nice they were.  And the leader replied that pride is always a sin.  The end.

It's a good story, right?  You all love it, yes?  Well, perhaps not.  But pride is a confusing thing.  It shouldn't be, but it is.  The reason, I suppose, is that it's like food.  There are a lot of things you can be addicted to that you can always say that you're recovering from.  Alcohol, drugs, whatever.  All that.  Gambling, too.  And once you've revealed that you're an addict, you can never go back to that issue.  You can never go back to drinking socially, because you are an addict, and you always will be.  And it's sort of all or nothing on this stuff.

But with food, it's different.  You can't just go cold turkey on food.  If you stop eating, then you're going to die, so you've got to eat, and you've got to eat in moderation.  You can't just quit. Now, it's the same thing with pride.  Pride is a problem.  It's a huge problem for us, especially as Christians, because we fall prey to it so frequently.  We fall prey to it so easily because it's a natural by-product of doing a good job.  And it's actually a good feeling, and is useful for us.  It's sort of like the mythical runner's high, in that it's a bit of a payoff for doing what you're supposed to do, a nice little treat.  But you'd be a fool if you ran a marathon just to get a runner's high.

So too, the pride that you feel in doing a good job is good.  It's a good feeling, but only when very specifically measured.  That is, pride is good for some things, but absolutely dreadful for others.  And when it crosses over, that's when you've got yourself a problem.

I'd like to claim this as my own, but this is a CS Lewis thing.  He said it best, and I'd like to just parrot what he said, because he got it right.  You see, Lewis' issue with pride is that it exists for its own sake.  Pride is pride on its own.  If you are afflicted with pride (and believe me, we all are to some extent), you want to be the best, bar none.  You need to be better than anyone else, and you can't stand anyone to be impressed with anyone other than yourself.  It is this feeling that kicks in when you're at a party, and everyone else is gathering around someone else who is telling a particularly interesting story in some way, and you barge right in and insert yourself into the conversation.  You can't stand anyone else being the centre of attention.  And you need to have the focus on you.  You need to be reminded of your own greatness.  Now, this doesn't just drive a wedge between us, making it impossible to be happy for someone else, making it phenomenally difficult to have gentle admiration for the achievements of another, but it also makes it impossible to appreciate God in the slightest.

If you're committed to being the best, the best ever, then you'll miss what Christianity is all about.  It's funny, really, because Christianity calls out pride in a way that the secular world does not.  Read through some Ayn Rand for a bit, and you'll get the idea that pride is actually a really good thing.  The great should not be constrained by the small, those who are not as good should admire those who are excellent, and as long as the wonderful are allowed to pursue their goals, then the world will function as it should.  The rich will prosper, and the poor, well, they shouldn't be poor now, should they?

But we Christians are called to be humble, and that's harder to do.  Harder to do, of course, because it's the one virtue that you can't fake. And you know this, because you've seen people try to do it.  And it fails every time.  That insincerity, that fake attitude, that piety, all that is poorly hidden conceit.  As though you know you're better than anyone else, but you have to pretend that you're not so they don't catch on.  But it always ends up smarmy and horrible, because you really have no time whatsoever for that other person.  Why?  Because it's a competition in your own head, one in which you invariably end up winning.   Because pride style, you have to be the best.  And the more into the church you get, the more of a problem this becomes:  It becomes more of a problem because your sins are forgiven, and you know what you should and should not do.  And so you begin to judge.  And you become very proud of who you are.  And it's dreadful, because it focuses attention on yourself as the shining example.

Why is that so bad? Because you're not as good in real life as the trailer you present to the world.  You have flaws.  Have you ever wondered why people get as divorced as they do?  Because we are good at presenting to others something they want to see, but after a while of living with you, they'll find your faults.  You can't hide them forever. And what's the best way to deal with them?  The way we rarely do.  To repent, to be humble, and to apologize.  How are we to accomplish this most difficult task?  Concentrate less on us, and more on each other, and more on God.  And it's tough to do, I admit that.  But without getting that done, there's never going to be a way out.  We'll just end up as a perpetual people focused on ourselves, in the way that Ms Rand would love.  But Christianity pushes you further past that, telling you that the best way to live is to live for one another.  In doing so, we end up living the way we knew we were always supposed to, but always fell short.  And the most perfect thing about Christianity is not that it tells you to live for others, but it gives you a way out when you mess that up.  It's not just having an ideal and falling short.  It's having and ideal, falling short, and being pulled up from it again.  You can struggle with pride your whole life and never overcome it, but it's a sin like any other, like theft, like adultery, like coveting.  What do you do with those?  Then what do you do with pride?  Same thing.  Always.  It's just harder to do with pride, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try.  Turn it over to Christ like you do everything else.  He'll take it away.  The only thing you have to lose is the burden of your false perfection.

PJ.

The tongue is a fire

Hey folks.  Where the heck have I been over the last few weeks?  Well, long story short, blogger was having some issues.  Even though I did write entries, they're old now (or as my son would say, old and gross), so I've decided to not post them.  Trying to stay topical.  Trying to stay on the cutting edge of what the kids think is cool.  So, I'm going to talk about what we had for church this last Sunday.  Whether you were there, or whether you were somewhere else, pick up with the topic, and enjoy what the Bible said about gossip.

The text for Sunday was all about talking.  Talking and saying things we probably shouldn't. Yes yes, words are words, and they're not actions, but the content of the letter of James tells us just how important all our words are.

How great a forest is set ablaze by such a small fire!

And the tongue is a fire, a world of unrighteousness.

The tongue is set among our members, staining the whole body,

setting on fire the entire course of life, and set on fire by hell.

For every kind of beast and bird, of reptile and sea creature, can 

be tamed, and has been tamed by mankind.  But no human being can 

tame the tongue.  It is a restless evil, a deadly poison.  

James 3:5-8 (ESV)

Yes indeed.  And the aspect of fire is something that I think we do need to talk about here.  Fire, as you know, is good and useful.  It's absolutely vital for us in our attempt to survive in the world.  Fire was so important that Prometheus in the Greek myths was sentenced to getting his liver ripped out once a day for eternity for bringing it to humanity.  Fire is something that separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom, in that we can control it, and use it to our advantage.  We can cook food, boil water, smelt metal, burn stubble, burn garbage, heat metal to bend it in blacksmithing, and sterilize unsterile things.  Fire is incredibly useful, but as a wise man once said:

Build a man a fire, and you keep him warm for a day,

Set a man on fire, and you keep him warm for the rest of his life.

Fire is good, but fire is also dangerous.  It's dangerous once it gets out of your control.  It's good up until that point, it's great up until that point, but everything after that is deadly awful.  That's when houses get burned down, that's when forests light up, that's when bodies start to pile up.  Now, our words are like this.  They're good and useful.  We are able to do stuff like bless people, praise God, build up our sisters and brothers, give thanks for nice stuff that is done for us, and give credit where credit is due.  And that's all great.  

But have you ever had it happen when some stuff you'd said had gotten back to you?  There was a certain pastor who went back to his office after a service, and when he was pleasantly out of sight, he began to complain to a certain other pastor about some things that had happened that day.  While his microphone was still on.  All of a sudden, the cooking food turns into a grease fire.  And you know what happens with grease fires, don't you?

You try to put it out, and it just gets worse.  Much worse.  And that's our careless words.  A small fire starts, and we try to put it out by tossing water on it.  And then the panic sets in, because you realize that what you put out there is now completely and wholly out of your control.

So what's to be done?  Well, I suppose the best place to get going on any of this is to really think through what you're about to say.  I know, I know, sounds totally simple doesn't it?  Of course it does.  But we Christians tend to view sin in the same way as referees in the National Hockey League view penalties.  That is, no harm, no foul.  You get more time in the penalty box if you draw blood than you do if you don't.  Which always seemed silly to me.  Surely, something is wrong whether or not it causes serious injury.  If high sticking is an offense, shouldn't it be punished with the same penalty minutes as it would if you busted a guy's head open?  It's this sort of thing that leads to the awesomeness of soccer injuries, as players tumble to the ground, desperately clawing at their legs, in absolute agony.  It's that sort of thing that is almost encouraged by the desire to only give penalties if some actual bodily harm has been perceived.

Well, as Christians, we don't have that luxury, because the whole idea is to check yourself BEFORE the grease fire happens.  That is, look at the potential for the grease fires, and know the signs.  It reminds me so much of the awesome tips we got in driver's ed.  We had to watch a video on skidding out of control, and they told us 'the best way to get out of a skid is not to get into one.'  Thanks, informative video.  Doesn't really help me when my car's skidding out of control, does it me old mate?  That is, if it's all you can remember, it's not a useful tip.  But the philosophy is still sound.  As frustrating as it can be once it's too late, the best way to get out of talking yourself into a terrible corner is to not talk yourself into a terrible corner to begin with.  It's why we talk about sin that lurks in thought, word and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone.  It's not about who did it hurt, it's about was it right or wrong.  And in our idle words that get tossed around, that don't seem to hurt anyone, that don't appear to be causing any fires and if they did, we'd totally put them out right away, it's not about is this making a fire that's too big for us to handle, but is it right or wrong to begin with?

Of course, you wouldn't think much of me and my awesome advice if my only advice was 'the best way to get out of putting your foot in your mouth is to not put it there in the first place.'  Not too useful there pastor Jim, we need something a little bit more by the time we've screwed up and eaten so much foot we now cough up odor eaters.  Okay, fine.  I dig.  So here's the process for once the grease fire has begun.  And it's the same as with an actual grease fire.  It seems counter-intuitive, but don't do what you want to do, ie talk your way out of it with more deceit, denial, clever responses, whatever.  Don't do that.  That's the throwing of the water.  In this case, you want to put a lid on it, literally as well as figuratively.  If you've got a grease fire on your stove, put a lit on the pot, and turn off the heat.  The fire will go out.  In the same way, if your words have gotten you into a bunch of trouble, the best course of action is to get the oxygen away from the fire.  In other words, sometimes it's time to do the course of action that is recommended in the Bible. Take what you've done, confess that you shouldn't have done it, recognize that it was wrong, and apologize.  If you say you have no sin, you deceive yourself, and the truth is not in you.  But if you confess your sins, God who is merciful and just, will forgive your sins and cleanse you from all unrighteousness.  It's beautifully liberating to be able to say 'yes, I said that, and I shouldn't have.  I'm sorry."  It's honest, it's true, and the truth shall set you free.  Then you never have to worry about mental or verbal gymnastics, you can just be truthful.  Then the fire gets put out. Then the problems go away.  It gets worse the more water you throw on it, but stop it, turn the heat down, and it goes away.

Good luck out there.

PJ