Eight Learning To Live Without Vainglory

What is the solution to vainglory? Jesus’ direction to his followers is not so much about how they are to give alms, pray and fast, but with what intention they should do these things. It is important to note that Jesus does not say, “ If you fast,” but “ When you fast,” indicating he expected his apprentices to do these things. The point is not about the disciplines themselves but about the condition of our heart when we do them.

First, when we give alms we are not to let our left hand know what our right hand is doing. Some scholars believe that Jesus might be referring to the offering box that was on the right side of the entrance to the temple, which meant that the offering was placed with the right hand. This image suggests that we should do this good deed (giving some of our hard-earned money to others) with such unawareness that our left hand doesn’t know what our right hand just did. If someone were to ask us later, “Hey, did you give money to the poor a moment ago?” you would answer, “Hmm. Did I? I can’t remember,” and actually mean it.

Second, in terms of prayer, Jesus encourages us to shut the door to our room and pray to our Father who “is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” This is an example of great wordplay. These examples are about people wanting to be seen, but God is unseen. God not only sees in secret but lives in secret. In other words, God is not a God of vainglory. R. T. France notes, “[God] is himself invisible, in contrast to his pretended worshippers, who are only too visible.”

Prayer is something deeply personal and private. The “room” Jesus mentions probably is a storage room, because it was the only room that had a lock on it. We should lock the door to be certain that no one sees us praying. That kind of secrecy would ensure that we will not “be seen” by others but will be in close fellowship with God. John Chrysostom wrote, Why “must we pray? Not to instruct Him, but to prevail with Him; to be made intimate with Him, by continuance in supplication; to be humbled; to be reminded of your sins.” He says this kind of prayer can only be done “in secret.”

Third, Jesus teaches us that fasting should be done without fanfare. When we fast we are not to put on our penitent clothes and smear ash on our faces so that everyone will know we are fasting. Our appearance should be normal. Washing one’s face and putting on oil was the normal routine in Jesus’ day. Alerting others to the fact that we are fasting reveals our intention to impress people, not to discipline ourselves or heighten our intimacy with God.

Jesus encourages us to do good things with absolutely no concern about what others think about us. This is humility, the antithesis of vainglory. The best example of the difference is Jesus’ parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector who went to the temple to pray:

The Pharisee is a perfect example of vainglory. He loudly lists his accomplishments for all to hear. In contrast, the tax collector beats his breast, confesses his sinfulness and asks for mercy. Humility does not require us to beat our breast and announce our sinfulness. But in this case the tax collector gives us ample evidence of his humility.

Jesus is the prime example of humility. The King of kings and Lord of lords is born a helpless infant to a poor family, lives for a time as a refugee and grows up in a forgotten town. He is baptized by his cousin, then gathers a group of uneducated and unimportant tradesmen, and moving from village to village he dines with known sinners and outcasts. The Son of God became a man without reputation, trading in power for powerlessness and ultimately accepting an unjust death with grace and dignity. As Henri Nouwen notes, “The whole life of Jesus of Nazareth was a life in which all upward mobility was resisted.”

The kingdom narratives oppose the world’s narratives: You are valuable to God. God loves you no matter what. Your worth is not dependent on your performance or on what others think of you. Your worth is found in the loving eyes of God. If you win, God loves you. If you lose, God loves you. If you fast and pray and give your money to the poor, God loves you. If you are sinful and selfish, God loves you. He is a covenant God, and his love never changes. You are valuable, precious and worth dying for—just as you are.”

Paul says it beautifully: “Not that we are competent of ourselves to claim anything as coming from us; our competence is from God” (2 Corinthians 3:5). We do not need others to affirm us. Our worth comes not from the opinions of others but from God’s opinion: we are precious and priceless.

“Live for an audience of One.” This Puritan saying perfectly reflects kingdom living. Most of us spend our lives playing for an audience of many, fixating on what others are thinking or saying about us. Seldom do we apply this kind of concern when it comes to God. When we set our minds and hearts on things above (Colossians 3:1), we shift from an audience of many to the audience of One. What we do for God is what really matters.

John Calvin describes how focusing on God leads to a true sense of who we are: “It is evident that man never attains to a true self-knowledge until he has previously contemplated the face of God, and come down after such contemplation to look into himself.” True self-knowledge comes from looking into the face of Jesus, not the faces of others.

This doesn’t mean we pay no attention to what others say about us, and it certainly doesn’t mean we are to disregard good counsel. But we turn our thoughts Godward and always act with God in mind. Then we are free to listen to the appraisals of others—with great discernment. We listen to the opinions of others, but we are not controlled by them.

The kingdom of God is the only place we find real peace. As Augustine said, “Our hearts are restless, O God, until they find their rest in you.” No matter how many worldly “trophies” we acquire, we won’t be able to lay our head down in peace because we are only as good as our last success. But our loving Father—the only One who matters—tells us that we are loved, that we are of immeasurable worth.

When the kingdom narratives replace the false narratives, we are able to play without needing to win, love without needing to receive, pray without feeling pious and serve without needing to be thanked. Our value is set; our worth is stable and unchanging. We are loved and valuable, no matter what people tell us. When that narrative penetrates our hearts, we become free people indeed. The prayer attributed to St. Francis reflects a kingdom heart:

Such people are “more than enough” people (see p. 129). They live from the strong foundation of the kingdom and are not as interested in being consoled, understood or loved by people because they already are by God. Instead, they console, understand and love others. Paradoxically, people who learn to do this are the happiest of all people.

Three things happened since I spoke at the university chapel that continue to instruct me. First, a few months after I returned home I got a letter from a student that shared some of the deep pain he had been experiencing, even wrestling with dark thoughts and bad dreams, during the months leading up to my visit. He shared that somehow God used my talks in chapel to heal his heart, that somehow the Spirit had impressed deeply into his soul that he was valuable, loved unconditionally and meant for something great. This taught me that God can work through a person whose heart has a measure of vainglory.

Second, two years after my talk someone informed me that my talks made the “Chapel Archives,” a sort of “Top 30” of the best talks given, on the university’s website. I was pleased, which reminded me that vainglory is not fully behind me.

Third, despite the standing ovation and the “greatest chapel hits” inclusion, I have never been asked back to that college. Unfortunately, I still seem to care. A part of me would like to go back just to see if my heart has changed, to see if I could stand in that pulpit with no other purpose than to point students to the good and beautiful God. Nevertheless, I know that the kingdom is not about me but about Jesus. My value is not established by an invitation to speak but by who I am (indwelt by Christ) and where I am (the kingdom of God). As long as I keep those truths in focus, vainglory loses its grip on me.

The exercise this week is to do five things that will lift someone else’s burden. Any act of service that lightens someone’s load will do. Examples include doing someone’s laundry, filling someone’s car with gas, cleaning someone’s room, helping put up wallpaper, driving someone to where he or she needs to go, or helping someone complete some tasks.

Other examples:

Go out and “give me five” this week, five intentional acts of kindness and sensible acts of beauty! However, there is another catch to this one: You must strive to do it in secret!

We want to have our good deeds noticed. This can ruin our acts of kindness or generosity, because our motive may be to be rewarded for what we have done. As far as you are able, try to be of service to others without them knowing. It may be impossible to hide it—and don’t lie if they ask you about it. Just try not to draw attention to what you have done. It is likely that some of your acts of service will eventually be known. When this happens, simply say, “I just wanted to help you out. It was no big deal,” and move on.

One final caution: don’t give people money. Certainly there is a place for this, but for now your acts of service should involve your time and energy, not merely writing a check. Keep your acts of service on the nonmonetary level. Experience the joy of putting the needs of others before your own, and break the grip of vainglory in your heart.