The Marks of Pride - Glenn Conjurske

The Marks of Pride

Abstract of Two Sermons, Preached on Sept. 1 & 8, 1996

by Glenn Conjurske

A year and a half or two years ago, one of you asked me to preach on the marks of pride. I haven’t forgotten the request, but have been thinking about it for a long time, and at length will venture to speak on it. I was asked for a sermon on the marks of pride—-the marks by which it can be recognized, and this is what I intend to speak on. This is a matter of very great importance, for somehow it seems that pride is one of the most difficult things to recognize in ourselves, though it is easy enough to see in others. I have often heard people acknowledge, “I was proud,” referring to some time long ago, but very rarely will you hear anyone say, “I am proud.” This may be because the proud are little inclined to admit it, but it may be also because they can’t see it.

But here are some marks by which pride may be recognized. They are not all infallible marks, but they are good indications, especially when a number of them are found together.

First, and perhaps most obvious, is boasting. This kind of pride I would hope to find little of among the godly, but when people are continually talking of their own accomplishments, it is a pretty certain mark of pride. The humble are more likely to be ashamed of their accomplishments, for all of us are weak and poor enough. But I take leave to distinguish between reasonable and unreasonable boasting. A man who has actually accomplished something has half an excuse if he talks about it, but a good share of the boasting in the world does not concern what men have done, but what they imagine they can do. Men like to boast of what they could sell this gun or this automobile for, but the old proverb speaks true which says, “The price of a thing is what it will bring.” When we hear such boasting, a gentle hint may be in order, that if he can sell the thing for so much money, let him by all means do so. But then he will suddenly wish to keep it. So men like to boast of how much they can make in an hour, how much they can raise on a tenth of an acre, how many pounds they can lose in a week, etc., etc., all concerning things which they have never accomplished, and probably never attempted. This is a certain mark of the worst kind of pride, and concerning this the Bible says, “Let not him that putteth on his harness boast himself as he that putteth it off.” (I Kings 20:11). That is, let not him that goes out to the battle boast as he that has already won it. This is pride, and foolishness too.

I speak next of pride of accomplishment. A man may have plenty of this in his heart, and yet have sense enough not to display it by boasting. This was the pride of Nebuchadnezzar, who walked in his palace and said, “Is not this great Babylon, that I have built for the house of the kingdom by the might of my power, and for the honour of my majesty?” (Dan. 4:30). This may be called reasonable pride. Nebuchadnezzar was not boasting of his fancied abilities, but glorying in his actual accomplishments. He had done great things. But at bottom all pride is unreasonable, “for who maketh thee to differ from another? and what hast thou that thou didst not receive? Now if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory, as if thou hadst not received it.” (I Cor. 4:7). It may well be that you have made the most of what you have received, but still you received it to start with, and without it you would be nothing. You could have been born an idiot. But it is the way of pride to glory in its own accomplishments, without deducting all that it has received. Humility gives the glory to God, or to the others who have contributed what you have received.

Now we ought frankly to be afraid of such pride, for we may pay dearly for it. Nebuchadnezzar wrote to teach us that “those that walk in pride he is able to abase” (Dan. 4:37), and God did not deal gently with Nebuchadnezzar’s pride. When he surveyed his great works, and swelled with pride of accomplishment, God took it all away from him in a moment.

Next to pride of accomplishment comes pride of ability, and there is perhaps no form of pride which is so common in the church of God, nor any so detrimental. Paul says, “For I say, through the grace given unto me, to every man that is among you, not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think soberly, according as God hath dealt to every man the measure of faith.” (Rom. 12:4). He then goes on to speak of the different gifts and abilities in the church of God, and calls upon every man to exercise his own gift—-for the proper exercise of our own gifts is exactly what is set aside by this pride of ability. When a man thinks more highly of himself than he ought to think, he is never content to do what he can do—-or what he can do well—-but must always be attempting what he can only bungle. The little boy must ride the big bike, or he will ride none at all. The man who ought to be disciplining his children must knock on doors to preach the gospel. The man who ought to be praying in his closet must write a tract. Those who ought to be content to play the piano must undertake to write hymns. The man who ought to be passing out tracts must preach. The man who ought to be knocking on doors to preach the gospel must write a book. The man who ought to be exhorting must teach. The man who ought to be teaching freshmen to conjugate v must translate the Bible.

Now the result of all of this pride of ability is that nothing is done well, and everything is done ill. While every man thinks more highly of himself than he ought to think, every man neglects what he can do, to attempt what he cannot. This is one of the surest marks of pride, but unfortunately, one of the most difficult to recognize in ourselves. Perhaps the only way you might see it at all is to ask your brethren what they think of your abilities. Not that you should necessarily believe what they tell you, for plain dealing is a rare jewel. I once knew a man of the Open Brethren persuasion, now deceased, who took it upon himself to travel and preach. The plain fact is, he couldn’t preach, and even the Brethren knew it—-who are generally accustomed to very poor preaching. They groaned when he came to preach to them. Yet they supported him with their money, and never told him he couldn’t preach, though they told others. Perhaps you would do better to listen to rumors, than to ask your brethren about your abilities. But if you do ask them, and discount what they say in your favor, and augment what they say against you, you may arrive at the truth.

I have mentioned that I believe this kind of pride one of the most prevalent in the church today. There are two things which contribute to it, which are the shallowness and the affluence of modern society, including the modern church. The affluence of modern society makes it easy for everyone to attempt all the things they are not fit for. Anyone who can afford a computer (and who cannot?) can publish a magazine, whether he is fit for it or not. Anyone can write hymns, with the aid of computers and tape recorders and what not—-and always find people shallow enough to think them good music. The shallowness of modern society always ensures that these amateur productions will be praised and circulated. I have seen pieces win national poetry contests which were not poetry at all. John Wesley refers to some would-be poetry of his day as “prose tagged with rhyme,” but this stuff wasn’t even tagged with rhyme. It possessed neither rhyme nor rhythm, but was just second-rate prose, lined out to look like poetry on a printed page, and yet this shallow society could acclaim this stuff as the best of poetry. I have also heard people defend and praise some of the worst preaching I ever heard. The fact is, it was the best they knew. They had never heard good preaching in their lives. Any shallow, worthless book can find readers in our day, for our generation scarcely knows what a good book is. The King-James-Only doctrines—-some of the most shallow and foolish doctrines which have ever existed on the earth—-have spread like wild-fire, and in twenty years taken possession of half of the leaders of Fundamentalism. And some of the books which think to answer the King-James-Only doctrines are just as shallow, and just as unsound. I believe a revival of spirituality and learning would silence most of the preachers and authors in the land. Meanwhile we are required to endure a flood of this pride of ability.

I speak next of pride of name. When the wicked set out to build the tower of Babel, one of their avowed motives was, “let us make us a name.” The godly will not likely avow such a motive, but it may lurk in their hearts nevertheless. Men may preach sermons and write books to make a name for themselves. You must look within to find this kind of pride, for it may never manifest itself outwardly—-yet it may. Pride of name may manifest itself in pride of initials. What mean these strings of initials appended to the names of all the prominent men of the church? What mean all of these titles of distinction prefixed to them. If this is not pride of name, what is? What would people think of me if I paraded myself as

Rev. Dr. G. Russell Conjurske, A.B., M.A., D.D., LL.D., X.Y.Z.?

No need to worry, for I have no such titles to parade, and neither do I want any, but some men need a whole line of type to print their names. They ought to be ashamed of it. They ought to be ashamed of the worldliness in it, but they ought to be ashamed of the pride also.

And while I am speaking of pride of initials, let me refer to the practice of the old Plymouth Brethren. None of them put their names to anything they wrote, but only their initials. This I once supposed to be humility, and, as I was very devoted to the writings of the Brethren twenty-five years ago, I adopted the practice myself. But the more I considered the matter, the more plainly it appeared to me that this use of initials was likely not humility at all, but only a subtle form of pride. If it is pride to make a name for myself, how much more to make initials for myself. Only the most prominent of men are known by their initials. I must have a much greater name to be known as G.C., than to be known by my name. Let those who wish to manifest their humility by suppressing their names write anonymously. Not that I would generally recommend this. The first thing I want to know when I read something is, Who wrote it? Anonymous papers I seldom read at all. When a man writes, he ought to take the responsibility for what he writes, and to do this he must put his name to it. A thousand things have been written under the cloak of anonymity which were unfit to be written at all, and which never would have been written at all, if men had been obliged to put their names to them. There are no doubt occasions for writing anonymously, but these are few.

But to return to pride. One certain mark of pride is contentiousness. The Bible is plain enough about this. “Only by pride cometh contention.” (Prov. 13:10). Here is the real root of almost all church splits, though some doctrinal matter is usually dragged in by the tail, and made out to be the issue. On the individual level, there are certain souls who simply love to argue, and the only root of this is pride. They are determined always to show their superiority. If you tell them you can buy honey at the store in quart jars, they will tell you, “No, it comes in pint jars.” If you tell them you bought Horne’s Introduction in two volumes, they will tell you, “No, it comes in four volumes.” The fact probably is, it comes both ways, but the proud are determined always to set everybody straight, and at all times to set forth their superior knowledge and experience, though they are as often wrong as right.

Now frankly, I do not consider it my business to set everybody straight on every point. If I hear an old lady contend that tomatoes picked green and ripened in the attic are just as good as those ripened on the vine, I keep my mouth shut about it. I am not very likely to convince an old lady of anything, and at any rate why should I contend with her? The biggest share of the time when I hear folks say things that I know to be false, I just keep my mouth shut. I don’t feel any compelling need to display my superiority. But I must confess that when I hear something wrong from one of these contentious folks, or when one of them tries to set me straight, I have a strong temptation to expose his ignorance and humble his pride—-and I don’t always resist the temptation. When he tells me that honey comes only in pint jars, I am much inclined to show him my quart jar of honey. That may be of the flesh. The flesh provokes the flesh, as Darby used to say, and it may be pride in me that is inclined to contend with the contentious. It may be a waste of breath too, and very likely worse than a waste of breath, for when you prove him wrong and stop his mouth, you probably won’t make him humble, but only resentful. You know I’ve had plenty of experience with folks like this. When they try to set you straight, and you demolish their arguments, they won’t say a word in reply. They will drop the subject for six months or a year, and then come out defending the position they opposed, just as though they had always held it, and without ever admitting they were wrong. This is a certain mark of pride. Meanwhile they will be hunting high and low for any mistake or inconsistency in you, so they may get their revenge. Wounded pride you want to stay away from, for there is nothing so implacable. “Offended self-esteem will never forgive,” an old proverb says. When Joseph refused the advances of Potiphar’s wife, he wounded her pride, and he paid dearly for it. I have been through one church split, and it is as clear as the daylight that wounded pride was the main element in the opposition party.

But to return to the text, “Only by pride cometh contention.” This disposition to dispute, this determination to set people straight, is a certain mark of pride.

Another obvious mark of pride is obstinacy. By obstinacy I mean a determination to maintain our own position, or an unwillingness to yield. This is not necessarily a mark of pride, for if a man has the truth he ought not to yield. He ought to be steadfast and unmovable. And I may as well mention at this point that it is not uncommon for faith to be mistaken for pride. “I know thy pride” was thrown in David’s teeth when he thought to fight Goliath, yet it was not pride which moved David, but faith. There is a boldness and a firmness in faith which may often resemble pride, and those who have faith may often have to bear the reproach of being proud. There is little help for that. Nevertheless, the firmness of faith and the obstinacy of pride are two different things. Faith and pride may do some of the same things, but they hardly do them in the same manner. The firmness of faith stands upon confidence in God, while the obstinacy of pride stands on its own conceit. The firmness of faith is meek, while obstinacy is arrogant. And I will just insert here that another pretty certain mark of pride is heatedness in controversy. When the man who is unwilling to admit he is wrong begins to feel the weakness of his cause, he will commonly become heated, become sarcastic and disdainful, or even lose his temper. The real root of this excess of heat is pride. The humble man, who is willing to admit himself in the wrong, has no need whatsoever of such ferociousness. A man may be steadfast and unmovable and yet listen to reason, and stand ready to modify his position, if not to give it up. Obstinacy will resist all reason and deny all the facts in order to maintain its position. It often happens that the obstinate make consummate fools of themselves by their dogged defense of that which every reasonable man can see to be indefensible. They grasp at straws, and put the most ridiculous construction upon all the facts, rather than admit that they are wrong.

For this reason all those who have any tendency to pride ought to be very careful about publicly committing themselves to anything, and they ought to be careful about how they commit themselves. But when were the proud ever careful? Only let them “see the light” on anything, and they must go directly to the pulpit or the printing press to set the world straight. They commit themselves in the most public and dogmatic way to their new theory, and so much the more if it is the manufacture of their own brain, which has never been heard of before. But as soon as they are publicly committed to it, their pride is involved, and then they must maintain the position at all cost, and the more they say the bigger the fools they make of themselves. I therefore counsel every man who adopts any new doctrine—-whether it be a notion wholly new, or an old doctrine new to you—-to let that doctrine simmer on the back burner for five years before you put it in print. If you must put it in print, put the book on the back shelf for five years before you give it to the world. By this means you might keep your pride out of the way. The church has survived for two thousand years without your notion, and it may survive another five.

I believe without question that pride is the greatest hindrance to learning the truth. It is pride which maintains all kinds of false and foolish notions, against all facts and reason, and the rashness which must put every new notion immediately into print is the strongest ally of that pride.

This brings me naturally to speak of rashness as another certain mark of pride. “In the multitude of counsellors there is safety,” the Bible says, but the proud seldom seek counsel before they act. Why should they? It seldom enters their minds. They have too much confidence in themselves for that. But most fortunately for the proud, the very rashness to which their pride impels them often proves to be one of the most effectual remedies for it. When they have made mistakes enough, and often enough had their folly exposed to the world, they may begin to distrust themselves, and to lean less confidently on their own understanding.

Glenn Conjurske

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