Pride in Christian preaching is the dangerous overestimation of oneself that blinds believers to God's grace and the needs of others, often leading to downfall (Proverbs 16:18). Illustrations use images like mirrors obscured by silver, moth-eaten garments, and false measurements to depict how pride distorts true self-understanding and disrupts spiritual growth (James 4:6).
Overvaluing oneself is foolish, like a rat weighing itself on a scale.
The Chinese call overdoing a thing, a hunchback making a bow. When a man values himself overmuch, they compare him to a rat falling into a scale and weighing itself.--_Chambers’s Journal._
Many wrongly believe they are always right, illustrating the sin of pride.
There are too many men who make the sentiment of this verse their creed:
This is the burden of my song, I sing it day and night: Why are so many always wrong When I am always right?
Pride in opinion can lead to harmful decisions despite better alternatives.
See COMPARISONS, APT; SELF-FLATTERY.
CONCEIT OF OPINION
When Lord Hardwicke’s marriage bill was in the House of Commons, Fox, afterward Lord Holland, saying that one clause gave unheard-of power to parents on the marriage of minors, proceeded to lay open the chicanery and jargon of the lawyers, and the pride of their mufti, and drew a most severe picture of the Chancellor under the application of the story of a gentlewoman at Salisbury, who, having a sore leg, sent for a country surgeon, who pronounced that it must be cut off. The gentlewoman, unwilling to submit to the operation, sent for another more merciful, who said he could save her leg without the least operation. The surgeons conferred. The ignorant one said: “I know it might be saved, but I have given my opinion; my character depends upon it, and we must carry it through.” The leg was cut off. (Text.)--CROAKE JAMES, “Curiosities of Law and Lawyers.”
Pride can blind people to the impossibility of their grandiose ideas.
* * * * *
Artists have a good many queer customers, and they have advantages for observing what vague ideas it is possible for a man to entertain respecting art and nature, too. An ex-soldier went to the studio of D. J. Gue, of Brooklyn, one day, to inspect a picture of Lookout Mountain that the artist had been painting. The picture pleased him, and he evidently had thoughts of purchase, but he was suddenly struck with a brilliant idea that he communicated thus: “I was in that fight, mister, and I’d like you to paint my picture on that. Let’s see. You could paint me right here in this field, facing front, with my left hand resting on top of the mountain.” The man was in thorough earnest. He did not see that if drawn to scale his finger would be about 5,000 feet high, and that he would have a reach of arm that would enable him to grasp at an object six or seven miles away. Mr. Gue precipitately declined the commission.--Brooklyn _Eagle_.
Appealing to pride can restore courage and calm in fearful situations.
* * * * *
Recently I read the experience of a yachting party on the Mediterranean. A sudden storm had come up and threatened to overwhelm the boat. One of the two women on board lost her head completely and seemed crazed by fear. Suddenly she cried out to the other woman sitting calmly beside her: “You know you are as frightened as I am. Why don’t you show it, too?” “Oh, yes, I am frightened,” replied the other woman, “for I know the danger we are in. But, if we are going to die, do let us at least die like ladies.” And that appeal to pride wrought a complete change in the frightened woman, she became calm and even spoke words of encouragement to the others.
— M. O. SIMMONS
Pride isolates and leads to downfall, shown by the icicle melting under the sun's heat.
* * * * *
There was once a proud little Icicle who stood all alone out in the cold. She wore a dress that sparkled like diamonds, but for all that, no one cared to go near her. The snowflakes were having a game of tag in the sky. Nearer and nearer the earth they played until some of them espied Miss Icicle.
“Do come and play with us!” they cried.
But the proud Icicle shook her head. “No,” she said, “you are entirely too common to play with me; I am a princess.”
“I’ll show the world what you are, you silly thing,” called Grandfather Sun from his cloud chariot. So he sent some of his children, the Sunbeams, to breathe on Miss Icicle’s head. This made her feel so sick that she wept great tears. The more she wept the thinner she grew, till at last a tiny pool of water was all that was left. (Text.)
Sudden prosperity can cause spiritual downfall like a tree struck by lightning.
The following extract points a needed caution to those who are blest with prosperity:
Some time ago we saw a tree that had been struck by lightning and actually rent asunder. It had been blown open as perfectly as if the pith of the tree had been lined with gunpowder and touched off. The reason for this is easily explained. The tree had been struck by lightning before it had been wet by the storm. Consequently the lightning bolt followed the line of least resistance, which was the damp wood under the bark. The electric current heated the sap, and, converting it so quickly into steam, the explosion was the result.
How very like that tree are a great many people! Prosperity is the electric current. Coming upon them so suddenly, as is so often the case, they are unable to bear the pressure of elevation and honor and distinction, and are rent asunder with a crash. They “go down” with a thud.
As the forest tree that has been struck by the killing bolt drops only to rot, so does the man who has been overelated by prosperity.
True independence respects others and avoids rude pride, showing humility in success.
We may be properly independent of the patronage of royalty, but this independence need not take the form of rudeness as with the musician in these incidents:
Liszt refused to play at court of Queen Isabella in Spain because the court etiquette forbade the introduction of musicians to royalty. In his opinion even crowned heads owed a certain deference and homage to the sovereignities of art, and he determined it should be paid.
He met Czar Nicholas I, who had very little notion of the respect due to any one but himself, with an angry look and a defiant word; he tossed Frederick William IV’s diamonds into the side scenes, and broke a lance with Louis Philippe, which cost him a decoration. He never forgave that thrifty King for abolishing certain musical pensions and otherwise snubbing art. He refused on every occasion to play at the Tuilleries. One day the king and his suite paid a “private view” visit to a pianoforte exhibition of Erard’s. Liszt happened to be in the room, and was trying a piano just as his Majesty entered. The King advanced genially toward him and began a conversation, but Liszt merely bowed with a polished but icy reserve.
“Do you still remember,” said the King, “that you played at my house when you were but a boy and I Duke of Orleans? Much has changed since then.”
“Yes, sire,” replied Liszt dryly, “but not for the better.”
The King showed his royal appreciation of the repartee by striking the great musician’s name off the list of those who were about to receive the Cross of the Legion of Honor.--H. R. HAWEIS, “My Musical Memories.”
Everything we make is available for free because of a generous community of supporters.
Donate