Pride
Pride. It's a good thing, right?
I will probably always face that familiar shame and embarrassment at certain memories, second-guessing everything as scenes replay in my head (with my poor memory sometimes playing tricks on me, besides.) Relationships with people, for better or worse, often do hinge on our words and actions, and they're especially tricky for me, for whatever reason.
"Take pride in your work."
"I'm so proud of you."
"Come on, have a little pride."
Pride is, perhaps, intimately bound up with our identity. If I'm going to stick my name on something, if it's going to represent me and what I'm capable of, then it needs to meet a certain standard. If it doesn't, then what results is the flip side of pride: shame.
And shame hurts. It is a supremely uncomfortable sensation. To recall words said or actions taken (or avoided), and to remember them with embarrassment, feeling one's body temperature actually rise (especially one's face) at the memory, to wish that the floor would just open up and swallow you whole - as if doing so would hide you, as if death would almost be preferable to having your error put on public display (even if it is only shameful in your own head)...the effect so very profound.
(And in the dark in the middle of the night, it can be a veritable playground for things like this.)
Sometimes it just is what it is. But if possible, it must be fixed. If the painting has a smudge, listen to Bob Ross: it's not a mistake, it's a happy little accident that can be turned into a tree or something. (But then, so often, the attempt at turning it into a cute little tree just ends up making an even bigger mess.)
Or perhaps I'm in a situation where I'm in over my head, and can't manage to do everything that needs to be done. (wait, is this merely hypothetical...?) But if someone steps in and tries to take over, while on the one hand I'm grateful for the help, on the other...I am shamed. There must be an acceptance of my own limitations, and also a feeling of now being in debt, of owing someone something.
And what drives it all?
Pride. Stinkin' pride, that's it.
While there may be a positive use for the word linguistically, the fact that the word has been dipped in a rainbow and used to represent the gender-bending crowd is actually quite fitting. Putting sin on display and pretending it's a good thing..."Pride" is an appropriate word.
Pride is not merely bad; it is evil. It drives so many other wrongs, and if you dig down far enough, it's at the root of just about every other sin. Greed? Pride; "I deserve it; I feel inferior if they have it and I don't." Murder? Pride; "I must be avenged." Adultery? Pride. "I deserve to be treated better; I like how he/she makes me feel." Lying? Pride. "I must cover up my faults, or put them down so that I look better." Idolatry? Definitely Pride. "I know better than God. I should be equal to God."
Pride is, I think, in essence self-justification.
I wonder, though, if this is one of those things that can be looked at from two different perspectives - through two different lenses: coram deo, and coram mundo.
Before our fellow man, perhaps pride is not such a bad thing, in itself. In the 8th commandment, God gives us the gift of a good name. Being held in high regard by people is a good thing, and is a goal that we ought to do our best to attain. We should strive to protect the reputation of others, first and foremost, but our own reputation is likewise something positive that should be upheld. A good name is a gift from God, to be guarded and cherished.
But where pride seeks to elevate itself above others is maybe where it goes wrong here.
"Ugh, am I really THAT bad? I CAN'T be," is then assuaged by, "At least I'm not as bad as HER." Or, "Oh no, I can't believe I said that. I'm such an idiot. They've gotten a better glimpse at my black heart, and will think less of me now," which must be mitigated by, "Well if they reject me, it's their problem not mine; if they won't accept me as I am, then I'm better off without them." Or, "They did the task I was supposed to do but for whatever reason failed to accomplish; I'm so embarrassed," which is tempered by, "Well, they didn't do as good a job as I would have."
And perhaps this is where it starts to bleed into the other side of things: our justification before God.
Once pride starts trying to edge out the competition, butt its way to the head of the line, compare itself to others in the hopes that God grades on a curve...now things go rapidly south. And this is, I think, whether we realize it or not, most often what is going on when our pride gets stung.
But now I wonder, do we really worry about our stance before God? In some ways, I think we actually take it for granted. Our sinful flesh wants to stand before Him on our own two feet, in our own merit. Pride ASSUMES, as a matter of indisputable fact, that God will accept me based on my works. After all, I think very, very highly of myself; many of my issues actually come from thinking that others don't treat me as well as my pride thinks I deserve. And unless God's Law comes to me and boots me off my high platform, I won't see my true situation, and my desperate need for His grace.
Because grace, of all things, is what hurts my pride the most.
I don't want a handout; I want to earn it. I want to deserve it. Inasmuch as to have my deepest flaws and weaknesses and failures seen by others - and yet to still be loved and accepted - has its sweetness tainted and tinged with a sting - to be embraced DESPITE who I am...even more so, before God who sees and knows the truest depth of my sinfulness (beyond what I can even imagine) and yet loves me, that sting becomes a blow so profound that it can only flat-out murder that evil pride in me. The Old Adam, with his inflated ego, must die when he sees the Lamb of God, lifted high and sacrificed in order to do for me what I absolutely am powerless to do: be made acceptable to the Father, not only embraced but adopted as His own, a beloved child and heir.
What is the lowest, most pride-destroying thing I could do? Beg. Admit my weakness, admit I'm in a desperate situation that I can't get out of on my own, and plead for help.
"Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy."
"We are beggars, this is true." - Martin Luther
But while my perceptions in that realm may or may not be accurate, and while some of the humiliation I feel may be misplaced, my Father's Word is always true.
May I always receive His Law with humility as the loving chastisement that it is, as my evil pride is drowned in my Baptism, so that through faith in the merits of Christ, I can arise to new life.
As I was hammering into my kids this morning, repentance has two parts: contrition and faith. What else is contrition than a debasing, a killing of pride, so that we can own our sin - and then look to Christ, in the firm belief that He has atoned for that sin?
Dear Pride...die [sucker], die. The One who is greater than you has come. In Him is life, and hope, and freedom from your dead weight.
Sting away. You have been defeated by Jesus, who knew shame that far eclipses anything I have experienced. He looked on the shame of the cross and despised it, scorning shame through shame, killing death through death.
Your head has been crushed, and in looking away from you to the Bronze Serpent - no matter how intense the pain of your poison- I am made alive.
-M