When They Go Low, We Go Lower
“I don’t know what else I could have done . . .” my lips repeated, staring at the empty room. I replayed my recent argument with my husband—a feedback-loop I wished had never even happened.
I got ready for bed in silence, the frustration growing. Surely, I had been patient. I had spoken truth—what could he possibly be upset with? “He’s wrong in this,” I whispered to the Lord. A diatribe of self-righteousness followed, ending with a challenge that God would have to show me where my fault was because I didn’t have a clue.
Ask and you shall receive, apparently. Not two minutes later, I was hit with the reality: I was just as guilty as he was, and I was humbled. What began with my own assurance of righteousness ended with a broken woman seeking forgiveness.
If I’m honest, I don’t even remember what our argument was over, but I won’t forget what it felt like to see with new eyes. Since then, I’ve found myself wondering in the midst of other conflicts if my pride has blinded me. Sure enough, it certainly has.
HOW LOW DO WE GO?
We see conflict everywhere, whether it’s with a spouse, friend, co-worker, or strangers on the internet. During the previous election cycle, Michelle Obama coined the popular phrase in response to slanderous conflict: “When they go low, we go high.” While this is a sentiment to be applauded, I wonder if we need a more specific reminder of our calling in conflict as Christians?
Perhaps when we feel like someone has wronged us, we instead need to be reminded to go lower. Not lower in deceit or morals, but lower in humility. I needed this reminder during that argument with my husband, and I would venture to say we all need the same reminder at times.
Paul tells us that those who are in Christ are to walk in a manner worthy of our calling, and one of the ways we do that is with “all humility and gentleness” as we bear with each other (Eph. 4:2). This includes conflict.
Surely this lowly posture stands out. Take a look at social media. The people who speak with care and humility always shine brighter than the angry din of quarrelers. They stand out because their actions are so foreign to us. It’s almost unheard of to try to remove yourself from your own perspective or to purposefully honor the person who attacked you.
“We are not called to respond in a good enough way. We are called to follow in the footsteps of a savior who emptied himself completely.”
But this is the way of our calling. It is the way of the cross.
We are not called to respond in a good enough way. We are called to follow in the footsteps of a savior who emptied himself completely. While retaining his deity, he humbled himself to the greatest extent. He made himself nothing for the sake of those who hated him (Phil. 2:7)! He gave us the model of a man whose desire was to glorify the Father and he shared his glory with us through the gospel, so that he may again give glory to the Father (John 17:1; John 17:22-23).
Yet our pride doesn’t want God’s glory and humility. Instead, we crave our own glory, and we’re often blind to this desire within us. Just as I was sure I was in-the-right that night, pride blinds us to the sin we bring to each of our disagreements. We are all blind at times. Here are three ways pride hides in plain sight.
HIDDEN HUBRIS
Making assumptions. One of the most common places pride hides is in our assumptions about another person. We can easily ascribe motives and beliefs to the person we are talking to that doesn’t represent them well. We see this repeated in overdrive each political season, as insults are hurled at the other political opponent and mischaracterizations abound over what each side actually wants to do. We see it played out and watch in disgust, but can easily miss when we do it ourselves to those we love.
Humility will make us quick listeners and slow speakers towards our neighbor (Jas.1:19). It will keep us humble enough to know the ninth commandment applies not only simply to telling a lie, but to perverting truth to a wrongful meaning or using doubtful or equivocal expressions (as the Westminster Catechism details). Before we continue in conversations, can we stop ourselves and ask if we are representing our brother correctly? Are we angry at their words, or only what we have assumed in our own minds?
Truth disguised. Pride can hide under the cloak of truth. It whispers in our ear, “You are right,” even as we speak words of truth with disdain and anger. Unfortunately, our pride makes us identify more with Jesus flipping tables when we are really the clanging gong (1 Cor. 13:1). We should rejoice to speak truth, but we must also be sure we speak it in love (Eph. 4:15). Can you look back at arguments and see how you intended to speak truth to your spouse or friend but dressed it in filth? It is a humble spirit that is patient enough to wait for the proper time to say a word (Eccl. 8:6) and is humble enough to clothe the words with grace. It is humility that allows us to season our words carefully, knowing that it is not our words that save, convict, redeem, but that only the Lord changes hearts (Eph. 1:18).
Pride in apologies. Finally, pride often lurks within our own apologies. We can often take the facts and twist them to our own advantage. Well, I said that because you made me feel . . . What I meant was . . . I was trying to . . . I’ve found myself repeating the same justifications, leaving my opponent with no other option but to be wrong. Just as in the garden, we can shift the blame, often without even realizing it. We grip our pride because true repentance costs too much, we think. We are, as John says, pretending we are without sin and deceiving ourselves (1 John 1:8). Even in the most subtle of justifications, we are lying to others, ourselves, and even to God. Yet humility offers us freedom. It offers us a confession that is not based merely on remorse for a difficult argument, but true grief and ownership of sin. It offers a confession that begs for forgiveness—not with qualifiers—but in owning our faults. And this kind of humility brings true healing.
There are countless other places pride may lurk in our conflicts. These are just a few I’ve found hidden in my own life, and I’m sure the Holy Spirit will only reveal more. Yet, while they are helpful, we won’t find humility by sheer gumption or adding more items to a check-list.
WHERE TO FIND HUMILITY
We find the ability to be humble in our arguments not by our own strength, but by running back to the foot of the cross in desperation. It’s there that we remember we were once alienated from God, yet he drew near to us (Rom. 5:8). There we are reminded that the true glory belongs to the Lord so we can stop grabbing for our own (Is. 42:8).
We run to the cross for help, and we run to the same cross for redemption when we fail yet again. Because we will. We’ll misrepresent, manipulate, and speak without love.
But because of Christ’s perfect humility, his perfect sacrifice—because of his rich mercy—we will be forgiven again. We will experience the humbling reality of the savior who suffered and clothed us with his righteousness.
And we are brought low. Low with a humble spirit because we have known the depth of the love of our savior who became low for us.
Brianna Lambert is a wife and mom to three, making their home in the cornfields of Indiana. She loves using writing to work out the truths God is teaching her each day. She is a staff writer with GCD and has contributed to various online publications, such as Morning by Morning and Fathom magazine. You can find more of her writing paired with her husband’s photography at lookingtotheharvest.com.