Self-Quake

Since Anne was a young girl, pride has been her constant companion. She was a straight-A student from a godly, middle-class home with a pastor and PhD for a dad, and a mother who was a model homemaker. Anne never did anything shockingly bad. She graduated from a very well-respected college with the highest GPA in the arts program. And through it all, with all the accolades and applause, her pride subtly grew in the background. Enter marriage and motherhood: She got a smart, passionate husband who loves her far more than she deserves; her kids are smarter than both of them, and cute, to boot. She bakes her own bread, she sews dresses for her daughters, she homeschools, she writes a blog. And she is thankful for all of these things, but they are circumstances that have brought many, many temptations to pride. In all of these things, her temptation has been to think highly of herself, of what she's achieved, even in areas that she has no control over. And no matter how hard she fights it, every time there is a new achievement to add to the list, that temptation to pride creeps back in.


Anne knows she needs to humble herself, to be willing to admit where she's failed, to admit her pride, to serve in ways where she doesn't necessarily shine. But if all the while she is thinking, "Look at how humble I'm being, admitting this weakness, serving this way," she knows she hasn't gained any ground. What is she to do?

The apostle Paul knew about temptations to pride, too. He writes in Philippians 3: "I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also. If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless." In his day, these were all "good" reasons for pride.


So what is it that frees him from boasting in his status and accomplishments? "But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith—that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead."


Paul had seen Christ's glory, revealed to him first on the road to Damascus (Acts 9), and then through the pages of Scripture, the witness of the first disciples and various visions given to him by the Spirit (for example, 2 Cor. 12:2-4). And in the face of such glory, all those earthly achievements and distinctions looked not just a little lackluster, but as actual losses, garbage, refuse. As he was aware of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ, pride in temporal, self-glorifying things showed itself to be what it really is: worse than useless, vain, rubbish. In the reality of Christ's righteousness, trying to get righteousness by earthly achievements was not only impossible, but actually hindered him from having righteousness from Christ by faith. 


Tim Keller refers to our seeing God's glory and holiness as producing a sort of "self-quake". When we behold His glory, our confidence in ourselves and in our own glory is shaken to the ground. We don't humble ourselves by thinking of all the ways we can make ourselves humble. We humble ourselves by seeing ourselves in the light of His unfathomable glory, glory so blinding that He has to partially veil Himself for us to even be able to stand in His presence. In the light of that glory, our self becomes completely insignificant, and instead of boasting in our righteousness or great deeds, we are forced to run to Christ and His glory in the cross for cover. As C.S. Lewis said, "Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it's thinking of yourself less." And the only way to think of ourselves less is to think of Him more.


The world prizes success, status and skills. And yes, skillful accomplishments can be helpful to the human race. But they cannot be the source of our identity, pride or righteousness. If we are beholding Christ in His glory and grace toward us, and holding out hope for the day when we our sight of Him will be unhindered, we can honestly call these attainments rubbish, and if they are rubbish, what is there left to be proud of? If we are beholding the beauty of Christ in His suffering for our sake, then the thorns and sufferings God sends us to keep us from conceit will be seen as gain, and our boasting in Christ's power in them will become genuine, not merely another means of pride. We are looking, not to our glory in this life, but to the resurrection of the dead that will fully and finally reveal Christ's glory to all eyes.


So what is Anne to do? Behold Christ! Search the pages of Scripture for glimpses of His glory. Meditate on the glory of the One whose greatest "achievement" was laying down His life to pay the price for all her pride and mine. Read about the holiness and mighty hand of God that is able to lift up and also to crush to the ground. In the light of such glory, straight-As, clever children and "enviable" homemaking skills will begin to look like awfully small things to hold up with pride. 

(And yes, I'm Anne.)