(Note to Reader: I inadvertently published Part III before this one yesterday. So, here’s Part II, in order. Will put Part III in its proper place after this one.)

To recap: We’re now looking at the first part of a very short phrase that Jesus used to start his most famous set of teachings.

Blessed are the poor in spirit.

We left off by beginning to dive into this concept of what it means to be “poor in spirit,” by generally equating it with both humility and brokenness. Or, as Chesterton so succinctly put it: If I want to honestly address what I see as real problems in the world, be they small or close by on the one hand or vast and global on the other, all I have to do is look in the mirror.

Humility, then, can be an honest look in the mirror and recognizing that there are places in my mind and heart of which I am not proud, despite the way I carry myself in public or present myself to others. It is the recognition that the world does not revolve around me, my wants and desires, my particular judgments, my need to be elevated for my achievements, my demand for attention.

Brokenness, in the Christian sense, is the understanding that we fall far short of being the kind of people God designed us to be.

Of course, if one’s worldview (which I recently addressed) does not hold that there is a place for a God, specifically a God who had us in mind when he started the whole shebang, then there is no such standard. In other words, the concept of brokenness is more probably viewed in terms of “functionality.” “So and so isn’t functioning at all well in society. Just look at him or her. Can’t manage the basics. Therefore, he or she is for all practical purposes, broken.”

As I am used to saying, one way to examine a thing is to look for its opposite. Doing so can bring the examined thing into greater clarity.

The opposite of humility is pride. The opposite of brokenness is being whole.

Put as a kind of simple theological equation, we can look at Proverbs 16:18,

“Pride goeth before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.”This is frequently compressed into the aphorism,“Pride goeth before the fall.”

(Look up “haughty” in your handy dictionary and you might see this definition: arrogantly superior and disdainful.)

To be poor in spirit is, at best, recognizing that “I’m not really any better than anyone else when you get down to it.” Put a bit differently, though, it’s not really a competition. It’s no good looking at Mother Theresa (a common example of “goodness”) on the one hand and Adolph Hitler (a common example of “badness”) on the other hand and thinking, “Well, I’m certainly not as good as her but I’m certainly not as bad as him.”In the Christian framework, this is just not the point.

At this point, let’s take a minor detour as we continue to try to unpack what is meant by being “poor in spirit.”

Let’s get back to seeking opposites in order to better perceive something. This is called contrast. For instance, if we’re looking at a picture of, say, a majestic mountain that is at least partially covered with snow, we don’t photograph it while looking directly into the sun. Light on light is a tough thing to process. We look for shadows and nuances in order to discern the detail in the landscape. It’s like that with what we’re talking about. (I always had my students do “compare and contrast” when it came to discerning the significance of an historical event or a philosophical theory.)

With this in mind, I think it’s valuable to look at this thing called pride as a contrast to our scriptural phrase in order to better discern what Jesus was talking about.

A quick search in the dictionary renders this: A deep pleasure or satisfaction derived from one’s own achievements … or from qualities or possessions that are widely admired.

Ok. A deep pleasure that comes from one’s own achievements. A deep pleasure that comes when there is widespread admiration from others regarding us and our stuff.

Put simply in that context: I’m deeply touched by the viewpoints of others on how successful I am at being a certain way, achieving certain things and/or possessing a lot of stuff.

This is a self-centric perspective.

Of course, at one level, this does not seem to be at all alarming. One might get the impression that we’re leading in the direction that any sense of pride is a bad thing. “You mean, it’s wrong for me to be proud when my child works and struggles really hard to achieve something … say in a difficult course in which she had previously not done well, and now received an A? What the heck is wrong with that?”

“Do you mean, it’s wrong for me to be proud of my country, my school, or my sports teams?” Good and fair questions.

The wisdom contained in the proverb is not that pride is inherently wrong (at least that’s my interpretation) but that, left unchecked, it can grab ahold with some terrible consequences.

With respect to things outside of us, about which we are proud, such as family, country, etc., … it’s really about tribal identity which is, anthropologically, a defining feature of all human societies from the beginning. It’s more a feature of being in community and recognizing that the bonds of community help foster such values as love, as well as functional abilities such as language and custom that help give richness to life. If this is an aspect of pride, then it isn’t necessarilydestructive.

What makes it destructive is when it breeds behaviors such as intense judgmentalism and, even, cruelty towards those outside our tribe. Or, when it becomes an obsession, occupying our attention to such a degree that we lose the balance of perspective, thereby creating an artificial sense of such superiority that all else is dismissed, without appreciation, as truly inferior. Thusly, natural inclinations towards patriotism, in extreme circumstances, may morph into a drive towards conquest and the subjugation of others (To whit: Nazism and Communism).

When we are, instead, looking at ourselves as individuals, when you take this pathway out to the fringes, you arrive at a psychological state we know as narcissism, which the dictionary defines as an excessive interest in one’s self and one’s appearance … extreme selfishness with a grandiose view of one’s talents … and a craving for admiration.

Narcissism is pride on steroids. Pride left unchecked. A compulsion that elevates one’s self-worth to such lofty heights that it can only be sustained by the pursuitof admiration and, even, featly from others. It shouts “Look at me in all of my finery! My authority! My beauty! My successes! My acquisitions! Aren’t I truly great?!” It’s really an addiction to the glories of self and, as the proverb implies, it leads to (goes before) destruction (which is not a good thing).

But, you might say, “while I can probably name more than a handful of narcissists fitting that description in politics, entertainment, professional sports and maybe even of my own acquaintance, I’m clearly not a narcissist. After all, I know a lot of people more powerful than I, richer, better looking, higher achieving and so forth. I’m under no misconception about my relative place in that regard. Yes, I am proud of some things, is that so bad?”

In order to answer that, we need to turn our attention so something else Jesus said.

Next time.