The Two Faces of Self-Centeredness

Self-centeredness is two-faced. 

It can be the overly confident fool who walks with his chest out and wears his ego on his sleeve—sometimes literally. This sort of cringe-worthy form irritates us unless we are the beneficiaries of the talents and brilliance of the self-professed genius. We still furrow our brows when we see their antics on display, but we can’t help but be drawn in by the enticing melodies of their siren calls.

Self-centeredness wears another mask as well. The Eeyore sort of pride hides in plain sight like Waldo on a canvas full of colors and distractions. They don’t post a selfie every time they walk an old lady across the street, but they desperately want to be caught on camera and praised. We notice them, but we seem to always shift our attention back to the more boisterous people because it’s tough to notice a candle when there’s a spotlight in the room.

 Christians Aren’t Exempt 

This self-centeredness dresses up in Christian garb too.  There are many times that I see these forms of pride in myself. There are times when I want to puff out my chest and let everyone know how devoted I am to the Lord. I want them to acknowledge my preaching and writing gifts. I want to be their favorite Christian rapper and producer. These moments are terrifying because they catch me off guard. Just when I thought I had my pride in check, I’m lured and enticed by my own evil desire.

On the other end of the spectrum, I sometimes find myself wrapped up in self-pity. The sting of a rejected article, a flat sermon, a poorly-performed album release, or a failed moment of parenting can leave me licking my wounds and begging everyone to notice my sackcloth and ashes. What some people consider modesty and humility is really just a facade of the kid who air-balled the free throw and faked an injury to get taken out of the game. This is pride, too.

We see both of these forms of pride in Scripture. One looks and feels nobler and is often met with pity. The other is annoying and we want to hit the mute button because we can easily spot a celebrity rant on a crowded Twitter feed. Neither is godly, and they both lead to hell apart from Christ.

The Pharisee Within

In Luke 18:9-14 Jesus tells the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector. Notice what he says about the Pharisee:

“The Pharisee stood and was praying this to himself: ‘God, I thank You that I am not like other people: swindlers, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. ‘I fast twice a week; I pay tithes of all that I get.’” (Lk. 18:11-12 NASB)

He is praying to himself. He’s boasting about his greatness compared to the so-called bad people of society. He’s even so bold as to look down and point out the guy on his knees next to him! Then, in his hypocrisy, he publicly proclaims his self-righteous fasting and tithing! This man is over-the-top.

The Pharisee clearly failed to see his own sinfulness in the presence of the Holy God. He wasn’t humbled by the presence of a holy God. He chose showmanship and flexed his tiny spiritual muscles instead. When we are truly in the presence of God, we may notice others’ sins, but as Isaiah spoke, “I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips” (Isa. 6:5 ESV). When we become expert plank-pullers, we won’t be so preoccupied with others’ splinters (Matt. 7:3-5).

Worldly Grief

Self-centeredness paints up in humble garb as well. We definitely ought to look into hearts and say, “ I am deeply grieved by my sin!” However, if we spend too long there, we will end up caught in a cycle of morbid introspection.

Jared Mellinger aptly describes this sort of introspection in his book Think Again:

“There is a kind of introspection that sucks the life out of our souls. It steals the joy God intends for us to receive through knowing him. It blinds us to the beautiful realities of the world God has made and numbs us to the generosity of his many good gifts. It can torture us, but it cannot purify us.”

Morbid introspection may be a sign of worldly grief—a tearful response to sin that is more concerned with the earthly and relational impacts of sins than with our offense against God. It doesn’t take us to the foot of the throne of grace where we have Jesus interceding for us (Rom. 8:34 ESV). It doesn’t produce “a repentance that leads to salvation,” an eagerness to be cleared from sin in the presence of Christ (2 Cor. 7:10-11 ESV). Unlike godly grief, worldly grief never leads to indignation toward sin, fear of God, zeal to put sin to death, or a readiness to see that sin crushed—which happened at the cross. It draws us into ourselves like a vacuum.

Rather than look to our Savior, we dwell on our sin. 

Rather than our Redeemer, we gaze at our repentance (or lack thereof). 

Rather than grace, we stare at our grief. 

There is a better way.

The Tax Collector Within

 In Jesus’s parable, the scum of the earth tax collector gives us hope. He doesn’t have accomplishments to boast about before God. He is in a profession generally known to be corrupt. Yet, he doesn’t navel-gaze at his sinfulness only to walk away without forgiveness. Instead, this tax collector confesses his wickedness and clings to Jesus. He looks away from himself and exemplifies both seeing our sin and seeking our Savior: 

“But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’” (Lk. 18:13 ESV)

His humility and godly grief are on full display. He is standing far off, not feeling worthy to be close to others. He would not even lift up his eyes to heaven because he felt totally unworthy of God’s attention and presence. He beat his breast because he felt the weight of his sinfulness. If Jesus had stopped here, we would see a man who is deeply grieved by sin. We may even be left wondering if his grief was godly or worldly. Jesus doesn’t leave us hanging.

Here’s the game-changer in this parable: when the wicked tax thief sees his sin, he cries out, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” (Lk. 18:13 ESV). Unfortunately, some translations don’t give us the full weight of this verse. Unlike the Pharisee, this tax collector is so concerned with only his sin that he says, “be merciful to me, the sinner” (NASB, emphasis mine). He cries out to God for mercy because he knows that God’s mercy is his only hope.

Look To Jesus

Christians, in our sin we need to look to Jesus. In our grief and shock, we have to look away from ourselves and cling to the Savior. Self-centered pride will kill us, and self-centered grief will bring death. Only Christ-centered remorse will bring life. Jared Mellinger helps us again:

“Our help does not come from within, from discovering ourselves or believing in ourselves. Our help comes from the Lord Jesus Christ. We can find a lot of problems by looking inside ourselves, but we’re not going to find solutions there. Self-help is a monstrous oxymoron. We cannot help ourselves; we need help from outside.”

Where are you looking today?  Whose help are you seeking? Dear saints, look to Jesus! Seek him and keep your eyes fixed on his glorious throne!


Chrys Jones (@chrys_jones) is a husband and father of four. He is a church planter in training, and writes regularly at dwellwithchrist.com. Chrys is also a Christian Hip-Hop artist for Christcentric.

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