The proud can expect active opposition from God. But there is an antidote: grace. The antidote to pride is not something we can take pride in. It’s not something that we ourselves can achieve. Grace is something that’s given to us proud people which allows us to walk in humility. Grace doesn’t merely temper pride, it tamps it out completely. Grace pulverizes pride, leaving remnants in humility that can be shaped into instruments useful for his purposes.
Pride month is now over, but America’s fascination with pride isn’t quite put to rest. We’ve got a pride problem, and we’re proud of it.
It’s not only the 30-day state-sanctioned celebration of sexuality, marketing, and (somewhat inexplicably) drag queens reading to children in libraries. It’s not only the corporations falling all over themselves for an entire month as they paint their logos in rainbows — until they realize they’ve gotten the wrong rainbow. Yes, the month of June is indeed Christmas for the LGBTQIA+ agitators, and whether you want it or not, you can’t move in June without being served a healthy dose of Pride.
Pride month is exhibit A, but it isn’t America’s greatest pride problem. Not by a long shot. Pride is an equal-opportunity employer, entangling the least and the greatest among us — and the church is not immune. Among Christians, this deadly sin manifests itself in ways that often mirror the world’s. We see it in ministers rocked with scandal who refuse to step down. We see it in so-called Christian social media when believers pontificate about how they’re not as fundamentalist as the other guy, or how they’re not as woke as she is. We see it in the perpetual name-droppers; we see it in the selfies that always show the photographer in the best possible light; we see it in the narcissists who tell you — in so many words — how thankful you should be for them; and we see it when churches boast about all they’ve done.
It’s never difficult to spot pride in others. It’s only when the mirror is applied that we struggle and squirm. Pride veils itself from our own eyes. But if you have a pulse, chances are you’ve been well acquainted with it — and chances are, you think I’m talking about somebody else.
