The mirror of the ego – 2
How We Disguise Our Ego as Piety
The pitfall of false humility
Unfortunately, where there is light, there is also shadow. For there is a false form of humility. In Colossians 2 (verses 18 and 23), Paul warns against a humility that people have devised for themselves. It involved strict rules and spiritual posturing. It looked incredibly pious, but ultimately it was all about self-glory. At first glance, it seems very spiritual, but if you look deeper, it’s focused on one’s own ego.
We recognize this false humility in more forms than Paul mentions. You see it in people who constantly blame themselves and say they’re nothing special, while secretly hoping someone else will tell them they’re actually doing a fantastic job. It’s a hidden way to get compliments. You also see it when we impose strict rules on ourselves and others to show the outside world just how spiritual we are. And sometimes humility is used as an excuse to avoid making difficult decisions, sidestepping conflicts, or avoiding confrontations.
Behind all of this lies the same thing: it’s all about ourselves. It’s a way to make ourselves look good. And that is exactly what pride is after. Paul warns in 1 Timothy 3:6 that those who become puffed up may fall into the devil’s trap. Many Christians interpret this to mean that the devil himself also fell because of pride. Pride always seeks to keep us away from God’s true, liberating grace.
The root of pride
Pride doesn’t just start out of nowhere. It creeps into our hearts very subtly. Even in the Garden of Eden, the temptation rang out: “You will be like God” (Genesis 3:5). The moment we place ourselves on the throne, our own desires and opinions become more important than those of others—and sometimes even more important than God’s will. Sometimes behind grand words lies a vulnerable person who is afraid of not being taken seriously. But not always: pride can also simply stem from convenience and self-delusion.
The Greek word that James uses for “to turn against” originally comes from the military. It refers to the deployment of troops in battle formation against the enemy. These are weighty words. For who would want God as an adversary?
In practice, we see pride in very recognizable ways. You carry yourself with a certain arrogance, convinced that your spiritual insight is deeper and purer than that of the people around you. As a result, you’re quick to pass judgment, or you simply refuse to be corrected. If someone makes a critical remark, you immediately go on the defensive, because after all, the fault can never lie with you.
Two men in the temple
Jesus Himself told a story about this (Luke 18:9–14). Two men go to the temple to pray. The Pharisee stands upright and thanks God that he is not like other people. The tax collector barely dares to lift his eyes, beats his breast, and prays: “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” And Jesus says that the tax collector went home justified. The Pharisee prayed too, but really only to himself. The beautiful and at the same time challenging thing about this story is that we so easily condemn one man and, in doing so, become the other—the Pharisee.
Everyday examples
The difference between pride and biblical humility becomes clearer when we look at two common situations.
The first is dealing with criticism—at work, in your family, or in church. The prideful reaction is to immediately feel offended, go on the defensive, and point the finger at the other person, as if they lack insight. Or you slip into false humility by declaring that you, too, are a failure, hoping the other person will quickly come to comfort you. The humble response is different: you listen calmly. You honestly consider what the other person is saying, thank him or her for the feedback, and are willing to learn. You do this because your focus isn’t on your own ego, but on making Jesus visible in your life.
The second situation is a conflict in which hurtful things have been said. With a prideful response, you hide behind your pride. You’re hurt, so the other person must apologize first, because taking the first step feels like a loss of face. With a humble response, you honestly examine your own part in it, no matter how small. You dare to break through your own pride and take the first step toward restoring peace, even if it’s uncomfortable. Jesus Himself makes it clear in the Sermon on the Mount that reconciliation cannot wait (Matthew 5:23–24).
The path to restoration
How do we break free from that stubborn tendency toward pride? James leaves no room for misunderstanding in chapter 4. He issues a series of calls that together point the way clearly.
It begins with submitting yourself to God (verse 7): set aside your own ego and the desperate struggle to prove yourself right. Next, resist the devil by actively rejecting the lie that you can do it all on your own and that you have to fend for yourself. Then comes an invitation that I personally find the most beautiful: “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you” (verse 8). After that, cleanse your hands and purify your heart by being honest with God and specifically confessing to Him your self-righteousness, pride, or critical attitude. In verse 9, James also mentions the sorrow over our own pride: pride may hurt when we see the damage it has caused. And where necessary, you take the first step toward the other person to set things right. James doesn’t say that in so many words there, but it fits perfectly with his call. Finally, you humble yourself before the Lord (verse 10), bowing in deep and grateful awe, and confidently placing your life, status, and reputation in His hands.
And then a wonderful promise follows: “And He will exalt you.”
Jesus Himself says it: whoever exalts himself will be humbled, but whoever humbles himself will be exalted (Luke 14:11). God ultimately deflates the person who puffs himself up. But the person who knows how to be humble before Him, He lovingly lifts up. He won’t let you go. He surrounds you with His peace, His love, and His presence. And that is a place many times more secure and beautiful than the highest throne we could ever build for ourselves.
You can read the first part again here—To Part 1
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