No Rest in the Clutches of Pride by Joshua Harris

“Please cancel subscription. Effective immediately. Thanks.” The six words of the handwritten note took only a moment to read, but I sat at my desk and stared at it for more than a few minutes. We don’t get too many of these, but I can remember each one. In the magazine business, if a renewal is a pat on the back, then a cancellation is a slap in the face. And it’s hard to forget the sting of the slaps.

“The conference was a little too worldly for my tastes. “

“I think you’re egotistical for having your picture on the posters and brochures.”-Ouch!

Words seem clumsy trying to describe the feeling of being criticized or corrected. Have you ever felt it? Your ears get hot and your very soul seems to sink inside you. Especially, I should add, when the criticism hits close to home. Maybe it’s not entirely accurate, but some sliver of the rebuke rings true. It’s this moment that all the demons of our human nature light up. Our time-worn defense systems kick in, and our nimble, well-rehearsed arguments of self-justification rise to the occasion; pride wraps its slithery fingers around our heart.

Lately, it seems God has been dealing with me in this area, teaching me to look for the nugget of truth in criticism no matter how inaccurate the facts may be. Or how rudely they are presented. One of the hardest things about taking correction is that often your side of the story is sooooo good. Or maybe you know something about the personality or track-record of the person that discounts their credibility. “They said this, but I know they do this…”

But assassinating the critic’s character does little to change the nugget of truth they have. Usually it makes it shine all the more brightly. I want to learn to listen for God’s truth in any criticism or rebuke people send my way. I don’t want to throw the baby out with the bath water. And that’s hard, because as fallen, sinful humans, one of the last bastions of our existence apart from God is the ability to think we are better, if only in a small way, than other people. We all have our “security blankets” in this area: a talent, virtue or gift that, well, we feel pretty good about. If someone attacks us we struggle to find something, anything that will discount them, allowing us to go on our merry way.

Recently my father gave me a tape of a sermon that addressed the sin of pride. The point the preacher made that struck me, was that pride is the one sin that yields no satisfaction. He observed that a person is not proud of being rich, or proud of being good looking. Instead, he or she is proud of being richer or better looking than someone else. Pride is essentially competitive.

And it’s that competitive spirit that can drive a man or woman to spend a lifetime achieving more and more, all the while stealing any joy in what is accomplished. As long as there’s someone else with a dollar more or an ounce of extra fame, pride will give you no rest.

This insight has tremendously affected the way I look at my life. I share it with you because I feel pride is an issue that we home schoolers, as a movement, will have to deal with, a dragon that we must slay in order to experience all that God desires for us.

But I don’t believe the battle will be won alone. We need accountability; we need each other. Pride is a slippery beast to slay because it is glaring in others and so difficult to detect in ourselves.

I believe we’re particularly at risk for a number of reasons. First, we are people, who, in a very positive sense, are not willing to settle for second best. And for reasons of very genuine, sincere faith, view much of the world as dreadfully wrong and choose to draw ourselves out of it. This is good and a much needed sentiment in Christendom. But every coin has two sides. And may I propose that the other side of our coin is often a prideful attitude that seeks holiness not for holiness sake, but for a smug feeling of one-upmanship.

Not long ago, Michael Farris struck a nerve with his humorous column entitled “Homier Than Thou.” In it he commented on our tendency to use our standards on “home-school issues” like courtship or the number of children in our family as our version of “keeping up with the Joneses.”

The sad thing about our silly drive for superiority is that it is never ending. Will you be more successful than your counterpart in public school? Are you more “set apart” from the world than the families in your support group? Are you more biblical? Are you as patient as that other home-school mom? Are you as fulfilled? Are you getting as much done this year as...as whom?  Who will lift this burden from us ?

“The burden of self-love is a heavy one indeed,” wrote A.W . Tozer. “Yet the sons of earth are carrying this burden continually, challenging every word spoken against them, cringing under every criticism, smarting under each fancied slight, tossing sleepless if another is preferred before them. “

Only in the person of Christ, Tozer concluded can we find rest. “There is no release from our burden apart from the meekness of Christ. ...The rest He offers is the rest of meekness, the blessed relief which comes when we accept ourselves for what we are and cease to pretend. “

Tearing off our dressed-up, make-believe pretense and honestly evaluating our motives is the first, important strike against the dragon of pride. But second is a humility that acknowledges the truth about ourselves. A humility that acknowledges the ugliness of our sin that only the blood of Jesus can cleanse.

I close with the words from a song by Steve Taylor .The title “Jesus is for Losers” is shocking only to those who fail to recognize their true state before God. It so eloquently expresses the brokenness of my spirit before His grace.

If I was driven. • Driven ahead by some noble ideal. • Who took the wheel? • If I was given. Given a glimpse of some glorious road. • When was it sold? • So caught up in the chase. • I keep forgetting my place...

Just as I am. • I am stiff-necked and proud. • Jesus is for losers. • Why do I still play to the crowd? • Just as I am. • Pass the compass please. • Jesus is for losers. • I’m off about a hundred degrees

If I was groping. • Groping around for some ladder to fame. • I am ashamed. • If I was hoping. • Hoping respect would make a sturdy footstool. • I am a fool. • Bone-weary every climb. • Blindsided every time...

Just as I am. • I am needy and dry. • Jesus is for losers. • The self-made need not apply. • Just as I am. • In a desert crawl. • Lord, I’m so thirsty. • Take me to the waterfall...

In a spirit of humility we can slay this beast together. I hope you’ll keep me accountable. And pray for me, too.