C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity, Book III, Christian Behaviour, "The Great Sin":
Today I come to that part of Christian morals where they differ most sharply from all other
Today I come to that part of Christian morals where they differ most sharply from all other
morals. There is one vice of which no man in the
world is free; which every one in the world
loathes when he sees it in
someone else; and of which hardly any people, except Christians,
ever
imagine that they are guilty themselves. I have heard people admit that they
are bad-
tempered, or that they cannot keep their heads about girls or drink,
or even that they are
cowards. I do not think I have ever heard anyone who
was not a Christian accuse himself of
this vice. And at the same time I have
very seldom met anyone, who was not a Christian,
who showed the slightest
mercy to it in others. There is no fault which makes a man more
unpopular,
and no fault which We are more unconscious of in ourselves. And the more we
have it ourselves, the more we dislike it in others.
The vice I am talking of is Pride or Self-
Conceit: and the virtue
opposite to it, in Christian morals, is called Humility. You may
remember,
when I was talking about sexual morality, I warned you that the centre of
Christian
morals did not lie there. Well, now, we have come to the centre.
According to Christian
teachers, the essential vice, the utmost evil, is
Pride. Unchastity, anger, greed, drunkenness,
and all that, are mere flea
bites in comparison: it was through Pride that the devil became
the devil:
Pride leads to every other vice: it is the complete anti-God state of mind.
Does this seem to you exaggerated? If so, think it over. I pointed out
a moment ago that
the more pride one had, the more one disliked pride in
others. In fact, if you want to find out
how proud you are the easiest way
is to ask yourself, "How much do I dislike it when other
people snub me, or
refuse to take any notice of me, or shove their oar in, or patronise me, or
show off?" The point it that each person's pride is in competition with
every one else's pride.
It is because I wanted to be the big noise at the
party that I am so annoyed at someone else
being the big noise. Two of a
trade never agree. Now what you want to get clear is that
Pride is
essentially competitive--is competitive by its very nature--while the other
vices are
competitive only, so to speak, by accident Pride gets no pleasure
out of having something,
only out of having more of it than the next man. We
say that people are proud of being rich,
or clever, or good-looking, but
they are not. They are proud of being richer, or cleverer, or
better-looking
than others. If every one else became equally rich, or clever, or
good-looking
there would be nothing to be proud about. It is the comparison
that makes you proud: the
pleasure of being above the rest. Once the element
of competition has gone, pride has
gone. That is why I say that Pride is
essentially competitive in a way the other vices are not.
The sexual impulse
may drive two men into competition if they both want the same girl. But
that
is only by accident; they might just as likely have wanted two different
girls. But a proud
man will take your girl from you, not because he wants
her, but just to prove to himself that he
is a better man than you. Greed
may drive men into competition if there is not enough to go
round; but the
proud man, even when he has got more than he can possibly want, will try to
get still more just to assert his power. Nearly all those evils in the world
which people put
down to greed or selfishness are really far more the result
of Pride.
Take it with money. Greed will certainly make a man want money, for the
sake of a better
house, better holidays, better things to eat and drink. But
only up to a point What is it that
makes a man with £10,000 a year anxious
to get £20,000 a year? It is not the greed for
more pleasure. £10,000 will
give all the luxuries that any man can really enjoy. It is Pride--the
wish to
be richer than some other rich man, and (still more) the wish for power.
For, of
course, power is what Pride really enjoys: there is nothing makes a
man feel so superior to
others as being able to move them about like toy
soldiers. What makes a pretty girl spread
misery wherever she goes by
collecting admirers? Certainly not her sexual instinct: that kind
of girl is
quite often sexually frigid. It is Pride. What is it that makes a political
leader or a
whole nation go on and on, demanding more and more? Pride again.
Pride is competitive
by its very nature: that is why it goes on and on. If I
am a proud man, then, as long as there is
one man in the whole world more
powerful, or richer, or cleverer than I, he is my rival and my
enemy.
The Christians are right: it is Pride which has been the chief cause of
misery in every
nation and every family since the world began. Other vices
may sometimes bring people
together: you may find good fellowship and jokes
and friendliness among drunken people or
unchaste people. But Pride always
means enmity--it is enmity. And not only enmity between
man and man, but
enmity to God.
In God you come up against something which is in every respect
immeasurably superior
to yourself. Unless you know God as that--and,
therefore, know yourself as nothing in
comparison--you do not know God at
all. As long as you are proud you cannot know God. A
proud man is always
looking down on things and people: and, of course, as long as you are
looking down, you cannot see something that is above you.
That raises a terrible question. How is it that people who are quite
obviously eaten up
with Pride can say they believe in God and appear to
themselves very religious? I am afraid
it means they are worshipping an
imaginary God. They theoretically admit themselves to be
nothing in the
presence of this phantom God, but are really all the time imagining how He
approves of them and thinks them far better than ordinary people: that is,
they pay a
pennyworth of imaginary humility to Him and get out of it a
pound's worth of Pride towards
their fellow-men. I suppose it was of those
people Christ was thinking when He said that
some would preach about Him and
cast out devils in His name, only to be told at the end of
the world that He
had never known them. And any of us may at any moment be in this death-
trap.
Luckily, we have a test Whenever we find that our religious life is making
us feel that we
are good--above all, that we are better than someone else--I
think we may be sure that we
are being acted on, not by God, but by the
devil The real test of being in the presence of
God is that you either
forget about yourself altogether or see yourself as a small, dirty object.
It is better to forget about yourself altogether.
It is a terrible thing that the worst of all the vices can smuggle
itself into the very centre of
our religious life. But you can see why. The
other, and less bad, vices come from the devil
working on us through our
animal nature. But this does not come through our animal nature
at all. It
comes direct from Hell. It is purely spiritual: consequently it is far more
subtle and
deadly. For the same reason, Pride can often be used to beat down
the simpler vices.
Teachers, in fact, often appeal to a boy's Pride, or, as
they call it, his self-respect, to make
him behave decently: many a man has
overcome cowardice, or lust, or ill-temper by learning
to think that they
are beneath his dignity--that is, by Pride. The devil laughs. He is perfectly
content to see you becoming chaste and brave and self-controlled provided,
all the time, he
is setting up in you the Dictatorship of Pride--just as he
would be quite content to see your
chilblains cured if he was allowed, in
return, to give you cancer. For Pride is spiritual cancer:
it eats up the
very possibility of love, or contentment, or even common sense.
Before leaving this subject I must guard against some possible
misunderstandings:
(1) Pleasure in being praised is not [inherently] Pride. The child who is patted on
the back
for doing a lesson well, the woman whose beauty is praised by her
lover, the saved soul to
whom Christ says "Well done," are pleased and ought
to be. For here the pleasure lies not
in what you are but in the fact that
you have pleased someone you wanted (and rightly
wanted) to please. The
trouble begins when you pass from thinking, "I have pleased him; all
is
well," to thinking, "What a fine person I must be to have done it." The more
you delight in
yourself and the less you delight in the praise, the worse
you are becoming. When you
delight wholly in yourself and do not care about
the praise at all, you have reached the
bottom. That is why vanity, though
it is the sort of Pride which shows most on the surface, is
really the least
bad and most pardonable sort. The vain person wants praise, applause,
admiration, too much and is always angling for it. It is a fault, but a
childlike and even (in an
odd way) a humble fault. It shows that you are not
yet completely contented with your own
admiration. You value other people
enough to want them to look at you. You are, in fact, still
human. The real
black, diabolical Pride comes when you look down on others so much that
you
do not care what they think of you. Of course, it is very right, and often
our duty, not to
care what people think of us, if we do so for the right
reason; namely, because we care so
incomparably more what God thinks. But
the Proud man has a different reason for not
caring. He says "Why should I
care for the applause of that rabble as if their opinion were
worth
anything? And even if their opinions were of value, am I the sort of man to
blush with
pleasure at a compliment like some chit of a girl at her first
dance? No, I am an integrated,
adult personality. All I have done has been
done to satisfy my own ideals--or my artistic
conscience--or the traditions of
my family--or, in a word, because I'm That Kind of Chap. If
the mob like it,
let them. They're nothing to me." In this way real thoroughgoing Pride may
act
as a check on vanity; for, as I said a moment ago, the devil loves
"curing" a small fault by
giving you a great one. We must try not to be
vain, but we must never call in our Pride to cure
our vanity; better the
frying-pan than the fire.
(2) We say in English that a man is "proud" of his son, or his father,
or his school, or
regiment, and it may be asked whether "pride" in this
sense is a sin. I think it depends on
what, exactly, we mean by "proud of."
Very often, in such sentences, the phrase "is proud of"
means "has a
warm-hearted admiration for." Such an admiration is, of course, very far
from
being a sin. But it might, perhaps, mean that the person in question
gives himself airs on the
ground of his distinguished father, or because he
belongs to a famous regiment. This would,
clearly, be a fault; but even
then, it would be better than being proud simply of himself. To
love and
admire anything outside yourself is to take one step away from utter
spiritual ruin;
though we shall not be well so long as we love and admire
anything more than we love and
admire God.
(3) We must not think Pride is something God forbids because He is
offended at it, or
that Humility is something He demands as due to His own
dignity--as if God Himself was
proud. He is not in the least worried about
His dignity. The point is, He wants you to know
Him; wants to give you
Himself. And He and you are two things of such a kind that if you
really get
into any kind of touch with Him you will, in fact, be humble--delightedly
humble,
feeling the infinite relief of having for once got rid of all the
silly nonsense about your own
dignity which has made you restless and
unhappy all your life. He is trying to make you
humble in order to make this
moment possible: trying to take off a lot of silly, ugly, fancy-
dress in
which we have all got ourselves up and are strutting about like the little
idiots we
are. I wish I had got a bit further with humility myself: if I
had, I could probably tell you more
about the relief, the comfort, of taking
the fancy-dress off--getting rid of the false self, with all
its "Look at me"
and "Aren't I a good boy?" and all its posing and posturing. To get even
near it, even for a moment, is like a drink of cold water to a man in a
desert.
(4) Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will be what
most people call
"humble" nowadays: he will not be a sort of greasy, smarmy
person, who is always telling
you that, of course, he is nobody. Probably
all you will think about him is that he seemed a
cheerful, intelligent chap
who took a real interest in what you said to him. If you do dislike
him it
will be because you feel a little envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life
so easily.
He will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking
about himself at all.
If anyone would like to acquire humility, I can, I think, tell him the
first step. The first step is
to realise that one is proud. And a biggish
step, too. At least, nothing whatever can be done
before it. If you think
you are not conceited, it means you are very conceited indeed.
In Christ,
Teopile/Theophilos Porter
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