Pride and the Search for Identity

We're all gods now, aren't we?

(This is the third post in a series about the meaning of “Pride” in our present Western culture.)

I said, “You are gods, sons of the Most High, all of you; nevertheless, like men, you shall die and fall like any prince. (Psalm 82:6-7)

It’s difficult to picture humans without noticing that we like to dream big. We aspire to accomplish great things. And there are enough success stories to maintain confidence in our powers and abilities.

But there are limits which constrict our dreams and accomplishments. We have only so much time. We have only so much money. We have only so much control over our times and circumstances. We may dream as if we are gods, but we will never escape our basic humanity.

The Bible provides for us a record of what we might call “The Grand Human Dream.” The Bible’s historical narrative which follows on the heels of the Fall records a pattern of life formed first in Cain, and subsequently in his descendants. Cain, moving eastward from his origins, establishes a city, which he names for his son. Lamech emerges from the narrative of Genesis 4 as a man not to be crossed. He casts a shadow of pride and aggression, fully aware of his intention to go beyond Cain:

“I have killed a man for wounding me, a young man for striking me. If Cain’s revenge is sevenfold, then Lamech’s is seventy-sevenfold.” (Genesis 4:25-26)

Even after the catastrophic flood which destroys the inhabitants of earth, the descendants of Noah’s sons redouble their effort to establish their sovereignty over against God:

“Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be disperesed over the face of the earth.”

It’s no mere coincidence that this dream began in Shinar, the ancient region which would become Babylon, the quintessential city of Pride.

What these early chapters of the Bible reveal is that in fallen humanity there remains an instinctive desire to be or become godlike in identity - free from the limitations which dog us, free from any form of accountability which would prevent us from achieving our desires.

What has transpired in our times is the distinct movement to find this identity within ourselves, without reference to anything or anyone outside of us. Pride provides us with the self-assurance that we are sovereign, autonomous, and empowered sufficiently to conform reality to meet our expectations.

But there are signs that not all is well in this movement. Those with the loudest voices, those who are most imperious in their stance, betray themselves by a fragility which appears when other people fail to affirm their dreams or celibrate their godhood. Pride, which puffs them up, lets them down. Under the pressure of life, the masters of the universe revert to an existence as a victim, pleading for recognition and affirmation.

Pride, it seems, provides us with a flattering privilege, but only in our own eyes. Pride gives us a script which assures us we are the hero in our life movie, but the script is undermined in troubling ways: personal failures, broken relationships, unexpected hardships, pain, suffering, and, in the end, death. As the psalmist reveals, “you are gods, all of you; but like men you will die.

Is there an alternative to this story? Jesus’ words, read against the horizon of our present times, are striking in their simplicity:

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light (Matthew 11:28-30)

Here is another binary we can’t escape. Pride or Humility? Taking on the burden being our own hero and savior, or discovering that Jesus alone can direct our lives without destroying them?