“But the line between moral behavior and narcissistic self-righteousness is thin and difficult to discern”
― Dean Koontz, Deeply Odd
PSALM 107-108
30I urge you, brothers and sisters, by our Lord Jesus Christ and by the love of the Spirit, to join me in my struggle by praying to God for me. 31Pray that I may be kept safe from the unbelievers in Judea and that the contribution I take to Jerusalem may be favorably received by the Lord’s people there, 32so that I may come to you with joy, by God’s will, and in your company be refreshed. 33The God of peace be with you all. Amen.
JOURNAL
Dean Koontz wrote, “But the line between moral behavior and narcissistic self-righteousness is thin and difficult to discern.” That line echoes in my heart, because it describes the danger I face every day. I haven’t experienced persecution or real punishment for my faith. I’ve never been beaten, jailed, or shunned because of following Christ. In fact, in my culture, being a Christian often gives me more acceptance rather than less. When I hold this up against the Gospel, it feels upside down. Shouldn’t following Jesus cost me something? Shouldn’t it require sacrifice?
And yet, the more I look inward, the more I see the real battle. It is not external—it is internal. Psalm 107 reminds me of this truth: “Some became fools through their rebellious ways and suffered affliction because of their iniquities… Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he saved them from their distress” (Psalm 107:17,19). My rebellion is not obvious to the world, but it lurks in the small ways I resist God. The part of me that tries to avoid Him, that makes excuses, that wants to be right no matter the cost, that clings to possessions instead of releasing them in obedience. This is my battlefield.
Romans 15 gives me another reminder of the stakes. Paul pleaded with the believers, “Join me in my struggle by praying to God for me… so that I may come to you with joy, by God’s will, and in your company be refreshed” (Romans 15:30–32). Paul’s life was a literal struggle, surrounded by danger, but still he leaned on the prayers and fellowship of others. My struggle may look quieter, but it is no less real. I need the prayers of others. I need the presence of brothers and sisters in Christ to keep me grounded, because left to myself I slide into self-absorption.
The truth is that without God’s grace I would spin endlessly in my own narcissism. I would convince myself that I am doing the right things, when in reality I am simply pleasing myself. But God’s patient love interrupts me. His forgiveness steadies me. His Spirit equips me to fight my selfishness and endure when I would otherwise give up.
Paul’s words in Philippians bring it home: “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves” (Philippians 2:3). That is the antidote to self-righteousness. Not perfection, but humility. Not self-preservation, but love.
So maybe my suffering is not found in persecution from the world but in the daily death to myself. Maybe the cost of following Jesus in this time and place is choosing humility when my pride demands attention, choosing obedience when my flesh craves comfort, and choosing love when selfishness feels easier. And in those choices, small as they seem, the Spirit whispers again: His love endures forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment