Staying Awake in the World- Day 24- June R&R

As I continue revisiting The Call and my old My Aim devotional series from 2014, I notice how different I am now than I was over a decade ago- in some ways much better and in some ways worse- but the grace that I need is the same!

In 2014, I wrote this line:

“Ask any invading army and they would agree: subtle compromise is always better than sudden captivity.”

I still think that is true.

Most people do not drift from God because of one dramatic decision. More often, it happens gradually. One small compromise. One season of neglect. One distraction that becomes a habit. One habit that becomes normal. One normal thing that quietly reshapes the soul.

And in 2026, I can't help but confess that I am a more 'worldy' person than I used to be in many, many ways. Some of it is prosperity, some of it..... fatigue. Some of it this techno-culture that offers many escapes.

Guinness’ warning about worldliness is not that Christians might suddenly stop believing everything. It is that we might continue saying the right things while slowly losing the distinctiveness that makes our witness meaningful.

Jesus said we are the salt of the earth. But He also warned that salt can lose its saltiness.

The question, then, is how do we live faithfully in the world without being absorbed by it?

That has always been a difficult balance. Some Christians become so comfortable in the world that there is almost no visible difference between their lives and the culture around them. Others respond by withdrawing so far from the world that they have very little meaningful contact with people who need the gospel.

Neither seems to fit the New Testament.

Paul addresses this tension in 1 Corinthians 5 when he reminds believers that avoiding immoral people altogether would require them to “go out of the world.” That is not the assignment. Christians are not called to disappear from the world, but neither are we called to be shaped by it.

That distinction matters.

One of the mistakes I mentioned back in 2014 is still a real problem. We often rail against sin outside the church while becoming strangely tolerant of sin inside our own hearts. We can be very alert to what is wrong “out there” and remarkably blind to what needs repentance “in here.”

Jesus warned about that too when He spoke about seeing the speck in someone else’s eye while ignoring the log in our own.

That passage has become more important to me over the years. Logs and specks are made of the same substance- what we rail against in others is usually much akin to us!

It does not mean we stop speaking truth. It means we speak it as people who are also under the authority of truth. The goal is not outrage. The goal is clarity, repentance, love, and faithfulness.

This is where Scripture becomes so important.

If we are going to stay awake in a world that constantly pulls us toward distraction and compromise, we need something stronger than instinct, personality, opinion, or cultural mood. We need the Word of God as true north.

One of the things I wrote in 2014 still feels accurate:

“Without the Bible, a believer has no hope of staying in between the ditches on both sides of the road.”

I might say it a little differently now, but the concern is the same. We cannot live by borrowed convictions forever. Listening to good preaching is helpful. Reading devotionals can be helpful. Christian podcasts and books may encourage us. But none of those can replace slow, honest, personal engagement with Scripture.

The Bible has a way of waking us up. It exposes what we have excused. It steadies what culture has unsettled. It corrects what our emotions have distorted.

And it reminds us that truth remains true even when it is no longer fashionable.

This also connects to something I mentioned yesterday about epistemology. Years ago, I spent time writing about how we know what we know. That may sound academic, but I think it is more important now than ever. We live in a time when people are flooded with information but often starved for wisdom. Social media multiplies misinformation, emotional reaction, and half-formed opinions at a speed previous generations could hardly have imagined.

So part of staying awake is learning to ask better questions.

Is this true?

How do I know?

Who benefits if I believe it?

What assumptions are shaping my reaction?

Does this line up with Scripture?

Those questions matter because a sleepy Christian is easily manipulated while a wakeful Christian learns to test what is plausible against what is true.

But staying awake is not merely intellectual. It is also relational and spiritual. Guinness keeps bringing the reader back to the reality that calling is lived before God and among people. That means worship matters. Fellowship matters. Confession matters. Evangelism matters. Serving others matters.

A Christian who is actively worshiping, praying, reading Scripture, loving people, and sharing the gospel is much harder (not impossible) to lull into spiritual sleep.

The world has always had its seductions. Comfort, pleasure, success, approval, distraction, and fear have been around a long time. The forms change, but the danger remains the same.

We begin loving things that cannot love us back- trusting voices that cannot save us.

So perhaps the question for today is fairly simple.

What is helping me stay awake?

And what is slowly putting me to sleep?

That may be worth thinking about as part of this June Tune-Up.

Songs:

Amusement Park Theology

Prayer Plans

Called to Make a Difference- Day 23- June R&R

One quick observation before moving on.

As I have been working through this June Tune-Up, I have been reading two different copies of The Call. One stays at work and one stays at home. Somewhere along the way I discovered that they are apparently different editions because some of the chapter titles and numbering do not quite line up.

At first that bothered me. I wanted everything to match perfectly. Then I realized it really didn't matter.

The ideas still line up.

In fact, that may be one of the unexpected lessons of this entire project. The biggest difference is not between the editions of the book. The biggest difference is between the person reading it now and the person who first read it years ago.

When I first worked through The Call, I was captivated by questions of vocation, mission, and direction. I wanted to know what God wanted me to do and how I could make the greatest impact possible.

Reading it again today, I find myself asking different questions. What sustains a calling over decades? What causes people to drift? What keeps a person faithful? How do we finish well?

That is why these recent chapters have felt so important. Guinness has spent time exposing the things that quietly sabotage a calling—pride, envy, greed, sloth, and worldliness. Having diagnosed some of those dangers, he now begins turning toward the positive side of the equation.

Today let's chat about Abraham Kuyper, one of the most fascinating figures in the entire book. Every time I encounter his story, I have the same reaction. Part of me is inspired and part of me is exhausted just reading the list of things he accomplished.

Kuyper served as a pastor, professor, journalist, politician, educator, editor, and eventually Prime Minister of the Netherlands. His influence touched nearly every sphere of public life. Reading his biography almost makes you wonder if he ever slept.

And yet, what struck me this time was not the length of his resume. It was something Guinness mentions almost in passing. During one of the most difficult seasons of his life, after years of public service and enormous pressure, Kuyper suffered a nervous breakdown. In the midst of that struggle, he wrote words that reveal the source of his motivation.

Above his bed hung a crucifix, and he wrote that when he looked at it, it was as though Christ was asking him, "What is your struggle compared to my bitter cup?"

That perspective sustained him.

The older I get, the more interested I become in what sustains people than what they accomplish.

When I first read The Call years ago, I think I was fascinated by culture changers. I loved reading about William Wilberforce, Joshua Chamberlain, Jonathan Edwards, Abraham Kuyper, and others whose lives seemed larger than life. There was something inspiring about people who left such a visible mark on the world around them.

I still find those stories inspiring, but I think I read them differently now.

At fifty, I probably asked, "How do people make that kind of impact?"

At sixty-two, I find myself asking, "What kind of life sustains that kind of faithfulness?"

Those are not exactly the same question.

One of the dangers of reading biographies is that we can become preoccupied with the extraordinary and miss the ordinary. Most of us are not going to become prime ministers, famous authors, military heroes, or historical figures. Most of us are going to spend our lives in classrooms, offices, homes, churches, businesses, neighborhoods, and communities.

Yet that is exactly where calling is lived out.

One of Kuyper's most famous statements was:

"There is not one square inch of the entire creation about which Jesus Christ does not cry out, 'This is mine!'"

Guinness returns to that idea repeatedly because it strikes at one of the great mistakes Christians often make. We divide life into sacred and secular categories. We imagine that ministry matters but business does not. Church matters but government does not. Worship matters but education does not.

Kuyper rejected that distinction entirely.

If Christ is Lord, then He is Lord everywhere.

For years I have believed that Christian education provides one of the greatest opportunities to shape future leaders. Not because every student will become famous or hold public office, but because every student will influence someone. Some will become teachers. Some will become parents. Some will become business leaders. Some will become pastors. Some will quietly serve in places that never make headlines.

And that is enough.

Perhaps one of the mistakes we make is assuming that making a difference always means becoming well known.The longer I live, the more convinced I become that the world is changed primarily by ordinary people who take their calling seriously. Not in big moments- in small encounters.

A teacher who faithfully loves students for thirty years.

A mother who raises children with wisdom and grace.

A businessman who conducts himself with integrity.

A coach who shapes character.

A pastor who preaches truth.

A friend who remains loyal.

Those lives rarely attract biographies, but they leave an imprint nonetheless.

As I read this chapter, I found myself wondering if the real challenge is not whether we dream big enough. It may be whether we are willing to be faithful where God has already placed us.

It is easy to imagine changing the world somewhere else. It is harder to see the opportunities sitting directly in front of us.

Perhaps that is why calling is such a powerful idea. It reminds us that significance is not ultimately measured by visibility. The question is not how many people know our name. The question is whether we are faithfully serving the One who called us.

And if Kuyper is right, that calling extends to every square inch of life.

The Sandman Effect- Day 22- June R&R

One of the interesting parts of revisiting The Call is realizing how differently I am reading it today than I did when I first encountered it more than a decade ago. At the same time, I have been re-reading the old My Aim devotions from 2014, and I find myself doing far more rewriting than editing.

And it may be that I can say the world has changed- but in reality I am very different than I was back then. Part of me is glad that some parts are gone- but there are others that I miss.

Many of Guinness' observations seem even more relevant now than they did then.

As I worked through Chapter 18, I found myself remembering another Os Guinness book that I enjoyed years ago. It was originally published as The Gravedigger Files and later republished under the title The Last Christian on Earth. The premise was similar to Lewis' Screwtape Letters, except Guinness focused on how the church slowly loses its effectiveness through a process he called "The Sandman Effect."

I actually wrote about this back in 2014. Looking at those notes now, one sentence still stands out:

"In this tactic, the church digs its own grave while Christians sleep."

When I read it now, it is more personal- I am often sleeping as well while my final day comes faster that I realize..

What strikes me today is that most spiritual decline does not happen because people consciously reject truth. Very few people wake up one morning and decide they no longer believe. The process is usually much slower and much less dramatic.

We get distracted or in my case, I'm more comfortable now and don't feel like fighting- and the fight is nor people, never is and never was. And somewhere along the way, important things slowly move toward the edge of our lives.

In my 2014 notes, I focused heavily on postmodernism and the changing nature of belief. Reading those thoughts now, I still think there was some truth there, but I am not sure that is the biggest challenge anymore.

Today, I think the bigger issue may simply be attention. What is shaping our imagination? What voices are we listening to all day long?

Guinness makes the observation that modern people increasingly judge ideas by plausibility rather than truth. In other words, something feels true because it fits the mood of the culture, not because it corresponds to reality.

But "plausibility" is strange in a culture where we constantly fed AI images and disinformation in our algorhytms.

One of the reasons this chapter resonates with me is that years ago I spent quite a bit of time writing and teaching about epistemology, which is simply the study of how we know what we know.

At the time, I was concerned that many Christians were not thinking carefully enough about truth. Looking back, I think that concern has only intensified. The challenge facing the current generation is not a lack of information. It is an overload of information.

The result is that many people no longer evaluate ideas based on whether they are true. Instead, they evaluate them based on whether they are repeated, popular, emotionally satisfying, or affirmed by the people they trust.

In other words, plausibility often replaces truth.

Social media has accelerated this process dramatically. Information can circle the globe before anyone has taken the time to verify it. False stories, misleading headlines, edited videos, and emotional narratives can spread faster than careful analysis ever could.

That does not mean everything online is false. It simply means that discernment has become one of the most important spiritual disciplines of our age. In many ways, the modern Christian is not suffering from a shortage of knowledge but from a shortage of wisdom.

The challenge is learning how to distinguish between information, opinion, plausibility, and truth.

Perhaps that is why Jesus repeatedly calls His followers to watchfulness. The battle for truth is rarely won by the person who consumes the most information. It is won by the person who learns to think carefully, biblically, and patiently in the midst of all the noise.

People often ask whether something feels authentic, meaningful, relevant, empowering, or compassionate before they ask whether it is actually true. We have become so immersed in stories, opinions, images, and constant information that plausibility often replaces credibility.

Back in 2014, I quoted Guinness saying:

"We have created a climate in which a thing's seeming to be true is often mistaken for its being true."

If anything, that observation feels more relevant now than it did then.

What concerns me is not that people are asking hard questions. Christians should never be afraid of hard questions. What concerns me is that many people have stopped asking questions altogether. They simply absorb whatever is flowing past them.

The older I get, the more convinced I become that one of the greatest battles of the Christian life is simply paying attention. Paying attention to God and His truth.

The danger of the Sandman Effect is not open rebellion. It is drift.

And drift is difficult to detect because it feels so normal while it is happening.

One of the reasons I have enjoyed this June Tune-Up is that it forces me to slow down long enough to notice things that are easy to miss during the normal pace of life. Reading The Call again has reminded me how quickly I can become distracted by good things and gradually lose sight of ultimate things.

Calling has a way of waking us up.

It reminds us that life is not merely about comfort, convenience, entertainment, or consumption. It reminds us that God has placed us here for a purpose and that purpose is rooted in truth whether the culture finds it plausible or not.

"What is shaping what I believe?"

Because whatever consistently shapes our attention eventually shapes our lives. Sometimes for the better, often for the worse. Where would we be without grace?

The Sleep of Death- Day 21- June R&R

One of the most haunting books I have ever read is Jon Krakauer's account of the 1996 Mount Everest disaster, Into Thin Air.

There are many moments in that book that stayed with me, but one in particular came back to mind as I read Chapter 17 of The Call. A climber described what happens when exhaustion reaches a certain point. Physical fatigue eventually becomes mental fatigue. Judgment weakens. Motivation disappears. The goal that once seemed so important begins to lose its meaning.

Then he made a statement that I have never forgotten:

"It is so pleasant to sit doing nothing—and therefore so dangerous."

That sentence captures something that Os Guinness is trying to address when he discusses sloth.

Most of us hear the word and immediately think of laziness. We picture someone sleeping late, avoiding responsibility, or refusing to work. There is certainly some truth in that image, but Guinness argues that sloth is actually much deeper than simple laziness.

He describes it as a spiritual condition.

Sloth is not merely the refusal to work - It is the temptation to stop caring.

That strikes me as one of the great dangers of the second half of life.

By this point, most of us have experienced disappointments. Some dreams never happened. Some goals were missed. Some relationships became difficult. Some battles were harder than we expected.

And if we are not careful, we begin lowering our expectations. Not because we have become wiser, but because we have quietly given up.

Dorothy Sayers described it as:

"The sin which believes in nothing, cares for nothing, seeks to know nothing, enjoys nothing, loves nothing, hates nothing, finds purpose in nothing, lives for nothing..."

That is a frightening description because it is possible to be very busy and still be guilty of it.

A person can work all day, maintain a schedule, pay the bills, and still slowly lose the sense that anything matters.

What struck me reading this chapter is how often Scripture connects spiritual vitality with faithfulness in small things.

Jesus says:

"One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much."

The older I get, the more convinced I become that many great failures begin as small acts of surrender. We stop reading. We stop praying. We stop serving. We stop learning. We stop caring.

One of the reasons I continue writing these reflections, reading books, listening to music, pursuing new projects, and trying to grow is that I never want to lose that sense of holy curiosity. I do not want to spend the latter chapters of life merely maintaining existence.

As part of this June Tune-Up, it may be worth asking a simple question:

What have I stopped caring about that God still cares about?

The answer may reveal more than we realize.

How Much Is Enough?- Day 20- June R&R

We are in Ch 16, if you are trying to track reading and devotions..... 

As I mentioned yesterday-  Guinness takes an interesting turn in the middle of the book. Up to this point he has spent much of his time helping readers understand calling itself—what it is, who is calling, and how calling shapes our lives. Then, beginning around Chapter 14, he starts examining some of the forces that quietly undermine calling from within.

At first glance, it almost feels as if he is working through the traditional Seven Deadly Sins. Pride appears first, followed by envy, then greed, and later what he calls "the noonday demon," a form of spiritual sloth. But Guinness is not really writing a systematic study of the sins themselves. His concern is much more practical. He wants to show how these distortions of the heart quietly sabotage our ability to live faithfully in the calling God has given us.

In that sense, the question is not merely, "Have I committed one of these sins?" The deeper question is, "What is driving my life?" Pride can distort calling. Envy can distract it. Greed can redirect it. Sloth can slowly smother it. By the time we arrive at Chapter 16, Guinness has turned his attention to one of the most powerful forces in modern life—the relentless pursuit of more. 

Today's reading asks: How much is enough?

At first glance, Guinness appears to be writing about money, wealth, and capitalism. Those themes are certainly present, but the longer I sat with the chapter, the more I became convinced that he is really writing about something much deeper. Money simply happens to be one of the most visible expressions of a problem that touches almost every area of life.

The title of the chapter is 'More, More, Faster, Faster', and it is difficult to imagine a better description of modern culture.

We live in a world that rarely pauses long enough to enjoy anything. The next promotion is already being pursued before the current one is appreciated. The next purchase is being researched before the last one is paid for. We are constantly looking ahead, convinced that satisfaction is just beyond the next milestone.

The strange thing is that "enough" keeps moving.

I have spent most of my adult life around people who have been financially successful. Working in private education, coaching, and ministry has allowed me to know many generous men and women who have built successful businesses and stewarded significant resources. I have benefited personally from their kindness and generosity, and I am grateful for it.

What I have observed, however, is that money itself is rarely the issue. Some people have very little and are consumed by acquiring more. Others have far more than they could ever spend and are still convinced they need more.

The issue is not usually the amount. The issue is the appetite.

That is what makes greed so difficult to identify in ourselves. We tend to define greed by looking at someone richer than we are. There is always somebody with a larger house, a larger retirement account, a larger business, or a larger lifestyle. By comparison, we can always find a way to feel moderate and reasonable.

In James 5, he warns people who have accumulated wealth while forgetting the God who provided it. His concern is not that they possess resources. His concern is that they have become possessed by them. Wealth has slowly shifted from being a tool to becoming a source of security, identity, and comfort.

One of the most helpful observations I ever heard on this subject came from Harry Reeder. He pointed out that Scripture never condemns money itself. It repeatedly warns us about what money promises.

Money promises security control, comfort, significance-

But those are things money cannot ultimately deliver.

For a season, it may appear to. The account grows, the house expands, the investments perform well, and life seems stable. But sooner or later we discover that financial security and actual security are not the same thing.

Jesus understood this when He warned about storing treasures on earth. He was not trying to make people feel guilty about possessions. He was exposing the false belief that possessions can satisfy the deepest needs of the human heart.

As I have thought about this chapter during our June Tune-Up, I keep returning to the idea of appetite. One of the reasons summer can be such a helpful time for reflection is that it allows us to step off the treadmill long enough to ask where we are running and why.

It is worth asking not only how much money is enough, but how much recognition is enough. How much success is enough? How much influence is enough? How much leisure is enough? How much accomplishment is enough?

The honest answer for many of us is that we do not know.

Calling gives us a different framework. Calling reminds us that everything we possess has been entrusted to us rather than permanently given to us. Time, abilities, opportunities, relationships, influence, and financial resources are all gifts placed in our hands for a season.

The question is not merely what we have accumulated. The question is what we are doing with what has been entrusted to us.

Perhaps that is why one of the most convicting questions in this chapter is also one of the simplest:

What does my spending say about my mission?

The older I get, the more convinced I become that contentment is not found by finally acquiring enough. It is found by recognizing that Christ is enough. Everything else is simply stewardship.

And stewardship always asks a different question than greed.

Greed asks, "What more can I get?"

Stewardship asks, "What should I do with what I already have?"

________

As I finish writing these thoughts, I find myself confronting a familiar temptation. Whenever I read a chapter like this, hear a sermon, or come across a particularly insightful quote, my first instinct is often to think of someone else who needs to hear it.

I suspect I am not alone in that.

It is remarkably easy to read about pride and think of a proud person. To read about greed and think of someone consumed by money. To read about envy and immediately picture another person's struggle.

The harder question is always the personal one. What about me? Do people really change?

Can old habits be replaced by new ones? Can selfishness give way to generosity? Can envy become gratitude? Can pride become humility? Can a restless heart learn contentment?

The Christian answer has always been yes—but usually much more slowly than we would prefer.

Real change rarely arrives through dramatic moments. More often it grows through small acts of faithfulness repeated over time. A different thought. A different response. A different conversation. A quiet act of generosity. A decision to pray rather than complain. A choice to be grateful rather than compare.

Perhaps that is part of what these June reflections are really about. Not merely thinking about calling, but creating enough margin to ask what one small adjustment God may be asking me to make today.

What thought needs correcting?

What habit needs attention?

What relationship needs investment?

What distraction needs to be put aside?

What truth needs to be believed again?

Those questions are rarely dramatic, but they are often where real growth begins.

And perhaps that is the hidden gift of a June Tune-Up. It gives us a chance to stop diagnosing everyone else and quietly ask the Lord what He wants to do in us.

Contentment- Day 19- June R&R

As I continued reading through The Call, I found myself lingering over Guinness' discussion of envy. It is one of those sins that is easy to recognize in other people and much harder to identify in ourselves. Most of us would never describe ourselves as envious. We may admit frustration, disappointment, or even discouragement, but envy sounds ugly enough that we naturally assume it belongs to someone else.

What struck me in this chapter is that Guinness connects envy directly to calling. He observes that we are most vulnerable to envying people whose gifts, opportunities, and callings most closely resemble our own.

That makes perfect sense when you think about it.

Rarely do we spend time envying people whose lives are completely different from ours. The temptation usually comes from looking sideways at someone who is close enough to make us wonder, "Why them and not me?"

Years ago, when we lived in Nashville, we jokingly referred to parts of the music scene as "The Land of Music Snobs." It seemed as though musicians spent a lot of time criticizing one another and very little time complimenting each other. A friend of mine laughed and said, "I guess we hear every wrong note."

There is probably more truth in that statement than either of us realized at the time.

The same thing happens everywhere. Coaches critique coaches. Speakers critique speakers. Pastors critique pastors. We often become most aware of the strengths and successes of people who occupy the same lane we do.

And that is where envy quietly begins its work.

One of the things I appreciate about Scripture is its honesty. The Psalmist does not try to hide his struggle in Psalm 73:

"For I was envious of the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked."

He does not pretend that envy was beneath him. He admits it.

What makes Psalm 73 so helpful is that the solution to envy is not found in trying harder to be thankful. The Psalmist's perspective changes when he begins looking at life from God's point of view rather than his own.

That same idea appears in Philippians 4, where Paul writes:

"I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content."

The older I get, the more fascinating that verse becomes.

Paul does not say contentment came naturally - He says he learned it.

And he learned it under circumstances most of us would consider undesirable. He writes those words from prison. If anyone had reason to compare his life with others, complain about unfair treatment, or question God's providence, it was Paul.

Instead, he speaks of contentment. Not complacency. Contentment.

Those two ideas are often confused.

Complacency says, "I have no desire to grow."

Contentment says, "I trust God with where I am while continuing to pursue where He wants me to go."

The distinction is important.

A content person can still work hard, set goals, pursue excellence, and seek improvement. In fact, some of the most content people I know are also some of the most diligent. The difference is that their joy is not dependent on achieving the next thing.

Their peace is not tied to comparison.

Their identity is not determined by whether they are ahead of or behind someone else.

That is freedom.

I think envy ultimately grows from a subtle suspicion that God has somehow been more generous to someone else than He has been to us. It causes us to focus on what we do not have rather than what we have been entrusted with.

Calling pulls us in the opposite direction.

Calling reminds us that God has assigned different gifts, different opportunities, different challenges, and different responsibilities to different people. My task is not to manage someone else's life or second-guess God's distribution plan. My task is to be faithful with what He has placed in my hands.

That sounds simple, but it is surprisingly difficult in a world built on comparison.

Perhaps that is one reason June can be such a valuable time for reflection. It gives us a chance to step off the treadmill and ask a few honest questions.

Am I grateful for the life God has given me?

Am I content with His provision?

Am I pursuing growth because I want to be faithful, or because I am trying to keep up with someone else?

And perhaps the most important question of all:

Would I still have joy if God never gave me what He gave someone else?

Paul says contentment can be learned.

That gives me hope.

Because contentment is not the result of having everything we want. It is the result of learning that Christ is enough, whether we have little or much, whether life unfolds exactly as planned or not.

That may be one of the greatest secrets of the Christian life.

The Race Engine- Day 18- June R&R

As I moved into Chapter 14 of The Call, I was surprised by the turn Guinness takes.

Up to this point, much of the book has focused on calling, vocation, stewardship, faithfulness, community, and purpose. Then, almost unexpectedly, he begins discussing the Seven Deadly Sins. Here I am reading a good book and it is taking a general "Christian" book path and then this slight turn became genius to me as the next few chapters took shape.

After all, once we begin asking questions about calling, we eventually have to ask another question. What keeps us from living it out? What is it that consistently pulls us off course? Why do we drift from the very things we know are good, true, and important?

Guinness begins with pride, and I think there is a reason for that. Pride is not merely one sin among many. Historically, it has often been viewed as the root beneath the others.

What makes pride so dangerous is that it rarely presents itself as a villain.

Most of us picture pride as arrogance. We imagine a loud, boastful person who constantly talks about themselves and lets everyone know how important they are. Sometimes pride looks like that, but more often it is much more sophisticated.

It has different names that contain issues in small slivers:  ambition.insecurity. the need to be right. the need to be noticed. t can even disguise itself as service.

One of the observations Guinness includes comes from Bernard Mandeville, who wrote:

"Pride and vanity have built more hospitals than all the virtues together."

That statement bothered me when I first encountered it. Years ago, I often argued that Christianity could be validated by looking at hospitals, orphanages, ministries, and charitable works that had been built by people of faith. Mandeville's comment forced me to think more carefully.

A lot of things have been built with good intentions, but the donor also wants their name on the building….

If pride simply made people lazy, we would identify it immediately. Instead, pride often creates tremendous energy. It can drive people to work harder, sacrifice more, stay later, compete longer, and accomplish impressive things.

The older I get, the more I recognize that tendency in myself.

Put something in front of me that benefits me, elevates me, rewards me, or increases my influence, and I can find enormous reserves of energy. My flesh is surprisingly resourceful when there is something in it for me.

That is why I think of pride as a race engine.

A race engine produces incredible power. It accelerates quickly. It creates excitement. It can outperform ordinary engines for a season. The problem is that race engines are not built for ordinary roads. They burn through fuel, require constant maintenance, and eventually break down under the stress they create.

Pride works much the same way.

It can power a life for a long time. It can fuel achievement, success, recognition, and accomplishment. But eventually it demands more fuel. More recognition. More affirmation. More success. More applause.

And the moment those things begin disappearing, the engine starts sputtering.

One of the things I have always appreciated about Nick Saban is that he understood human nature. He knew that most eighteen-year-old football players were not driven primarily by noble ideals. They wanted playing time, championships, recognition, and opportunities. Rather than trying to eliminate those desires, he redirected them.

His basic message was simple: if you commit yourself to the team, the process, discipline, and sacrifice, you will ultimately get more of what you want than if you simply pursue your own agenda.

He said it this way- ‘you create value for yourself’- and in the end, it works.

That is brilliant coaching but the gospel, however, takes us somewhere deeper.

Christianity is not merely trying to redirect selfish ambition into more productive channels. God is slowly teaching us to love different things altogether.

That is why Jesus speaks about self-denial.

That is why John the Baptist says:

"He must increase, but I must decrease." (John 3:30)

That is why Paul writes:

"I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me." (Gal 2:20)

Those verses sounded strange to me when I was younger. They felt almost mystical. Now I think they describe a lifelong process. God is patiently teaching us to move from self-centeredness to Christ-centeredness.

One of the stories Guinness tells involves Sir Stafford Cripps. Winston Churchill once remarked that Cripps (strong Presbyterian, strict moralist),  was the most difficult man in England to get along with. His only bad habit was cigars and when Cripps announced he was giving them up as a sacrifice for the war, Churchhill quipped “Too bad, that was his last contact with humanity”.

A 2nd quip was in the same vein- one day after Cripps left the cabinet room Churchhill told the others-

"There but for the grace of God goes God."

We have to be very careful- we can become very high horse in even good causes- in these days, I know a lot of people who have a very high opinion of their opinion! ( And some are even proud enough to blog about them :) ).

The strange thing is that humility creates a freedom that pride never can.

A humble person can celebrate another person's success without feeling diminished.

A humble person can receive criticism without falling apart.

A humble person can serve without constantly needing recognition.

A humble person can admit mistakes without constructing elaborate defenses.

As I think about this June Tune-Up, I find myself wondering how much of our exhaustion comes from running on the wrong fuel. Many of us are tired because pride is expensive. It requires constant feeding. It never stays satisfied.

Humility, on the other hand, grows slowly. It develops through disappointments, corrections, failures, relationships, and years of learning that God is God and we are not.

That process is not nearly as dramatic as a race engine.

But it tends to carry people much farther.

And perhaps that is why God seems far more interested in building character than building resumes. The first deadly sin is not simply a moral problem. It is often the very thing that keeps us from becoming the people God is calling us to be.

Song Links:

Proud of My Humility

Attitude of Gratitude