The Danger of Religious Pride

Religious pride is a problem, a major problem. It subtly seeps into our thinking until we are completely absorbed with ourselves.

This lethal gas can fill our hearts before, during, and after religious activities. For instance, after we have gone to church, or prayed, or read the Bible, we can be proud of what we have done. Or before going to church we can be motivated to attend to be seen by others.

Jesus addressed religious pride throughout his ministry. He accused the Pharisees of giving to the poor, praying, and fasting only to be seen by others (Matt. 6). They weren’t thinking about God and his kingdom; their eyes were on themselves as they fulfilled their religious activities. In other words, they were hypocrites or actors.

Defining Pride

What is pride? Pride is essentially thinking too highly of ourselves. In Romans 12, Paul says, “Do not think of yourselves more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourselves with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you” (v. 3). This doesn’t mean we are not allowed to take satisfaction in our accomplishments. Paul also writes, “Each one should take pride in themselves alone, without comparing themselves to someone else” (Gal 6:4). Our downfall is that we are constantly comparing ourselves to others and thinking we are better than them. For example, when students brag about their grade on a test, it is because they are comparing themselves with their classmates. They are not taking “pride in themselves alone.”

Religious Pride

Religious pride is thinking too highly of ourselves in spiritual matters. It is playing the comparison game in religious matters. Karl Barth (1886-1968) insightfully writes:

Whenever men suppose themselves conscious of the emotion of nearness to God, whenever they speak and write of divine things, whenever sermon-making and temple-building are thought of as an ultimate human occupation, whenever men are aware of divine appointment and of being entrusted with a divine mission, sin veritably abounds—unless the miracle of forgiveness accompanies such activity . . . No human demeanor is more open to criticism, more doubtful, or more dangerous, than religious demeanor. No undertaking subjects men to so severe a judgment as the undertaking of religion. (Galli, 50)

We are prone to take pride in our achievements. How much more so when we think we have achieved something for God? Regarding the study of theology, Barth says:

Of all the disciplines theology is the fairest, the one that moves the head and heart most fully, the one that comes closest to human reality, the one that gives the clearest perspective on the truth which every disciple seeks . . . But of all the disciplines, theology is also the most dangerous, the one in which a man is most likely to end in despair, or—and this is almost worse—arrogance. (132)

The study of God should lead to deep humility. After all, we are tiny humans trying to understand the infinite God. But because all “knowledge puffs up” (1 Cor. 8:1), even theology can result in an arrogant attitude.

How can these good things have negative consequences?

Pride.

“I love God” becomes “I love God.”

Words remain the same, but an unhealthy focus on the self has emerged.

Protestant Pride

I don’t mean to only pick on Protestants here. Anyone, in any denomination, can be arrogant. But Protestant doctrine makes for an intriguing illustration. One of the main mantras of the Protestant Reformation was “justification by faith.” But this too can turn us inward in a boastful way. Paul Tillich (1886-1965) says,

always say, justification by grace through faith. The justifying power is the divine grace; the channel through which men receive this grace is faith. Faith is by no means the cause, but only the channel. In the moment in which faith is understood as the cause of justification, it is a worse work of man than anything in Roman Catholicism. . . . If faith is a human work which makes us acceptable to God, and if this human work is the basis or cause of salvation, then we can never be certain of our salvation in the sense in which Luther sought for certainty when he asked the question, ‘How do I find a merciful God?’ (Tillich, 12-13)

It’s all too easy for us to look to ourselves and boast in our own faith as if that is the cause of our salvation. But Paul’s gospel undermines this type of pride as well: “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast” (Eph 2:8-9). Our faith doesn’t cause God to love us. God was gracious before we believed. Consider Paul’s words, “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8). Moreover, salvation and faith are “the gift of God.” 

But even with Tillich’s advice taken, pride can still creep in. Reinhold Niebuhr (1892-1971) says, “a righteousness ‘by grace’ may lead to new forms of Pharisaism if it does not recognize that forgiveness is as necessary at the end as at the beginning of the Christian life” (Niebuhr, 105).

Did you catch that?

Even the doctrine of salvation by grace—a teaching that should destroy human arrogance—can turn us into modern-day Pharisees. Pride is pervasive and it will latch onto anything it can, including pride-destroying doctrines.

Solution

So what’s the solution?

Since pride is an excessive focus on the self, we must continually look outside ourselves to Christ. Focus on Christ and his continual gift of forgiveness. It’s hard to be proud when we are constantly receiving divine mercy.

Les Bridgeman

After graduating from Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, I served as a high school Bible teacher in Asia. I enjoy traveling, writing, and playing the drums. My latest book focuses on Paul’s work as a tentmaker and what it means for today.