Message Jan.
21, 2016 Losing Our Big Heads
Scripture: James 4:
1-10
Today
we are continuing our Biggest Loser,
Blairsville Style sermon series where we are attempting to lose the hurts,
habits and hang-ups that keep us from experiencing God’s best for our lives.
Last week we looked all the excuses and reasons we give God for not living into
his call for our lives (our big buts), but today we’re going look at one the
biggest daily struggles we face when trying to be faithful to God: losing our
big heads that are often filled with pride.
From the moment we were born, we
have struggled with sin, or those behaviors and attitudes that keep us from
missing God’s best; we’ve struggled to live lives that reflect God’s glory and
character. And it really shouldn’t
surprise us. It takes only three
chapters in the Bible to regress from the goodness of God to the problem of
sin. And we could spend some time naming all the sins of the world, and the
sins that plague our hearts, but we’re just going to focus on one today: the
sin that has often been deemed the “mother” of them all, the one that gives
birth to so much painful and hurtful activity and action- and that is pride.
The old proverb suggests that pride goes before the fall. Behind most arguments, discord and evil,(and
you didn’t need to look too hard yesterday) you can probably find a heart
caught up in a whirlwind of pride.
In his work entitled, Mere Christianity, author C.S. Lewis (who
wrote the Chronicles of Narnia) suggests that pride is battle common to each of
us. We may not all murder or experience
greed, but we each probably struggle with pride on some level. Lewis also suggests that the less we think we
have pride, the probability of our guilt skyrockets. But in order to lose our pride (and discern
whether or not it’s a personal struggle), we first need to recognize what it is
not.
The sin of pride is not the feeling
that rises up when our children do something wonderful. It
really is ok to be a proud parent! When we say we’re “proud parents,” what we
really mean is that we are delighted in our children’s lives. That’s not pride. It’s not the deep emotion you
experience on the fourth of July when everyone is singing, “I’m proud to be an
American.” It really is ok to be proud of our nation’s good qualities. When we sing our patriotic songs, what
we’re claiming is gratitude for freedom. That’s not pride. Pride is not the sense
of satisfaction you receive when someone offers you a compliment or the feeling
you experience after a job well done. That’s joy, friends; that’s contentment;
but that’s not pride. And pride is not the well-deserved recognition that you
are worthy when you’ve been told your entire life that you’re not! That’s
grace. So what then is pride? Here’s a
quick definition: Pride is the negative characteristic that swells up the moment you
begin to elevate yourself over and above God and others. In essence, pride
is a “big head” that suggest my feelings, my desires, my needs and my opinions
are more important than anything else.
The Christian tradition suggests
that the sin of pride began with the character we often refer to as Satan, the
personification of evil. According to
some biblical accounts Satan was one of God’s good creations, filled with
beauty and light. In fact, one of the
names often use for Satan (Lucifer) literally means “the one who bears light.”
But there was a moment when Satan, this “bearer of light,” began to look away
from God and towards himself. And the
more he looked towards himself, the more dissatisfied he grew with simply being
a light-bearer. Instead, he wanted to be
the light and he wanted the power and the glory that was reserved for God
alone.
It’s no wonder then that the first
sin that appears in Scripture, the story of Adam and Eve found in Genesis, begins
with the opportunity to become more than what and who they were meant to be. “For God knows that when you eat of it,”
says the serpent, “your eyes will be opened and you will be like God.” And
there it is: The opportunity to elevate ourselves over and above someone else.
That’s pride. Up to this point, those first humans have been living a very
God-centered lives. They are more like
God than they will ever know: created in his image, his very Spirit has
breathed into them the breath of life; God’s love has cared for their every
need. His love for them is the love of a Father for his children; and he’s
never given any reason to doubt his goodness.
You know, what was true of those
first humans is also true of us. We’ve
been created to be like God. God has
created us in his image, called us to walk in relationship with him and has
empowered us to care for his creation with the same love and integrity with
which he cares for us. But the serpent’s
statement, disguised as friendly advice, beckons us to desire the god-like
characteristics that we’re better off without.
Instead of being “like God,” pride redefines our identity and suggests
we should be “God-like.” Power.
Glory. Unrivaled status. Number one!
The need to be right. The need to be heard, no matter who it may hurt…Those
are the cravings James talks about, cravings that are at war within us. And
before we know it, our cravings begin to pull us from who were meant to be and
launch us into people who can’t see beyond the end of our own noses. When those
cravings gain a foothold in our hearts, we trade peace for discord and love for
power. Where do these problems come from, asks James? They come from pride,
from a me-first view of the world.
In a fascinating passage from
Philippians, a passage Joanna and I chose to have read at our wedding, we
discover God’s answer to our big heads. (READ HERE) Jesus, who as God’s son,
had all the power and qualities of God available to him, didn’t exploit those
capabilities. Instead, as is beautifully written, Jesus emptied himself and
became obedient to death on a cross. This is fascinating, because it implies
that not even Jesus was exempt from the “you can be God-like” enticement. Yet
Jesus fully committed to God’s plans, and by doing so, he practiced the
opposite of pride. He did nothing out of selfish ambition. He looked not to his
own interests, but to the interests of others. He practiced the virtue of
humility. That’s what humility looks like. It looks like the decision to do
nothing out of selfish ambition. It looks like the unnatural choice to act (or
in some cases, to refrain from acting), based on the interest of others. This
is what draws us together as a church and what makes the church stand as a
significant witness to the world. We have a Savior who could’ve had it all, but
instead practiced humility, even to the death.
It is humility, friends, that is
our defense against the sin of pride, but humility takes time to develop. As I watched yesterday’s inauguration, I was
reminded of an early RNC debate. During one of his first debates as a hopeful
candidate, President Donald Trump was asked what his Secret Service code name would
be if here were to win the election.
Now, it’s no secret that President Trump is a tough cookie. You might say he's a “win at all costs” type of
guy and refuses to back down no matter the opponent or situation. And so when the question was asked, President
Trump, not one to miss an opportunity, offered a quick smile and boldly
stated the name “HUMBLE,” an answer that solicited laughs all over the world.
How I wish we could so quick to name our struggle, flip an internal switch and become humble…but it doesn’t work that way. Losing our big heads doesn’t
happen over night, nor does humility appear because we want humility to appear.
Humility is cultivated and lived out when we begin to see the world through the
eyes of God and trust God to be God.
Again, in his work Mere
Christianity, C.S. Lewis suggests that humility is born out of relationship
with God. And that’s a relationship that takes time to build. As I thought
about how we begin to build up a relationship with God, I was reminded of an
old parable of a grandson and grandfather often attributed to the Cherokee
Indians. “Grandson,” said the grandfather, there are always two wolves living
inside of us. A good wolf and a bad wolf. And they are always at war.” After a
few minutes, the grandson asked, “Grandfather, which one will win?” “The one you
feed,” replied the grandfather. (www.oneyoufeed.net)
Pride and humility are never too
far apart. The one we feed will be the one that defines us, and ultimately, the
one that either makes or breaks our relationships with God and with one
another. But if humility is a virtue we aspire to, a good place to begin is at
the cross. Because it’s the cross that reveals what true power, glory and
victory look like. And it has nothing to
do with being first, being right, or being the best. What we see on that cross
is the face of Christ, who pushed his own ambitions and desires aside so that
we could live fully and freely with God. What we see on the cross is a Savior
who fed the good wolf. Oh, I’m sure there were times he wanted to respond with
a public rant when angered by others. And I’m sure there were moments when he
wanted to say, “You know, this isn’t good for me, so I’m not going to do it.” And
I’m sure there were times when he wanted to lose his cool and say, “I’ll show
you!” But he didn’t. He fed the good
wolf, the one that invites us to have a heart that is larger than our big
heads, the one that leads to life.
Which one are you feeding? If you find that
you’ve been feeding the wrong wolf, I invite you to come to the cross tonight
and meet Christ. As James says, “Draw near to God and he will draw near to
you.” If you find tonight that you need a cleansing of your heart, a new start,
or the strength to repair what your pride has broken…or if you simply find that
your pride is just getting in the way of so many relationships….I invite you to
the cross to get re-centered, to make the move today from a self-centered life
to a Christ-centered one. That’s how we lose our big heads. Amen.
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