Subscribe to RSSDon’t Crush Your Cup
Selfishness is a dirty word in Christendom. Well, at least publicly. It’s not that it isn’t the type of foul language that isn’t spoken in mixed company – quite the contrary: we use the term to criticize our opponents, our children, and maybe even ourselves from time to time. No, it is that type of particular profanity that is used regularly and often with the intent to shame others or to debase ourselves. We just cannot seem to stand it when someone acts in their own self-interest, especially when it requires them to not act in ours.
Which is, ironically, selfish.
Not to oversimplify the issue, but selfishness is defined as, “caring only for one’s self.” Often, it is added that such caring is at the expense of, or in disregard to, others. But if it is physically impossible for two bodies to occupy the same space at the same time, does that then mean that it is motivationally impossible for me to care for both you and me at the same time? Such questions bear an amazing amount of weight in any issue of importance to an individual, as such concerns matter only because one’s self is interested in it.
Hopefully you can see then why it is baffling to consider this criminalization of one’s own self, or the desires we possess. Even in writing this post, I struggle discussing the topic due to the aversion I feel.
Perhaps the basis of this in our worldview comes from Philippians 2:
“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.”
The apostle Paul is writing to the church at Philipi while himself in prison. He is encouraging them to correct behavior, having heard of those whose actions do not glorify God. As though his words were not enough to back up the point, he then describes the perfect example of selflessness, Jesus, and how he gave up being God to, of all things, die a humiliating death for the sin of the world – sins he didn’t commit and for people who did not know or honor him. The natural response when presented with such an immense act of emptying one’s self is to duplicate it, and empty our selves of, well, our self.
Often, though, that isn’t enough: in our sudden piety, after pouring out the vessel, we then destroy it; we crush the cup. We reason that if emptying is good, shouldn’t self-immolation be better? Didn’t Philippians say that Christ himself died in the pursuit of another’s goals? Didn’t all the disciples, save John? Didn’t Paul? Why then shouldn’t we?
Relax. The point of this blog is not to advocate mass suicide, or even the pursuit of personal destruction for the purposes of holiness. Yes, while the annals of history contain the stories of numerous justified martyrs, even to this day, it also documents the likes of Jim Jones and his followers.
The hyperbole is meant to point out the shortcomings of the modern fascination with humility and selflessness in the Body. If in the pursuit of a goal, one demands of another his life or its interests against his will, it is coercion and wrong; if, however, one gives those things willingly, is it then considered noble and selfless? Pursued to the logical conclusion, if all were truly selfless, then nothing would be accomplished, as no one would pursue his own goals, deferring instead to others.
The silliness should be obvious. No one in their right mind argues for the termination of their own life; indeed quite the opposite, we call for self-preservation. We Christians take it a step further to argue for the right of others to live; even our American Constitution calls this right inalienable. Why then would we advocate the abandonment of living that life in a way that met our own best interest?
The root of the problem of selfishness for Christians lies in the purposes and effects for which people act in their own interest: the good do it to build value and permit life, while the evil for destruction and theft. If a farmer acts in his own interest and plants a crop, works it, and eventually harvests it, thus feeding himself, his family, and others to whom he would sell it, he is not evil. If, however, a robber works in his interest and steals the crop, thus either extorting or starving the farmer and his family but making a profit for himself, he is not good. It is not then the self-interest that is the problem, but for what it is used.
The point I wish to make is that there is value in one’s self. I would hope this is self-evident (no pun intended). Consider a simple example: God created Adam for the purposes he intended Adam to fulfill, just as he did with Eve, Noah, Moses, David, Jesus, Paul, Peter, and every other person in the world and throughout history. Not one single individual was created to do what others were; can you imagine Deborah leading the Hebrews out of Egypt, Isaac writing Pastoral Epistles, or Isaiah standing before the Sanhedrin? Consider God himself, who spared not his own son to fulfill his own purposes, that of the redemption of man, who was separated from him.
The very real problem is that because of this very same fallen, sinful nature, man’s self-interest is often fulfilled at the expense of another. I must clarify this statement, as even in the example above of the farmer, another cannot work the land he tills, sow his seed, or harvest his crop, not while the farmer is. Strictly speaking, his seemingly wholesome self-interest does come at another’s expense. And yet he must act or he, and those who rely upon him, would perish. Such is the same with any example.
This is not a discussion on moral relativism; quite the opposite – I am making an emphatic moral statement: selfishness is good. But it is a question of who’s interest is yours, and of what its effects are.
As Paul referenced Christ in the book of Philippians, I will, also, as he is the perfect example and the solution to this riddle. As a human, Christ often referred to the fact that he did nothing of himself, but only what his father willed. As God himself, he desired the ultimate purpose: forgiveness of sin. As a man, and the sacrifice which would be the conduit to fulfill this purpose, he sometimes struggled, but ultimately did what was correct, both as seen in his prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane.
It seems clear, then, that when we empty our selves that we are meant to be filled again, but this time with the Holy Spirit. Nature abhors a vacuum. In trading our dying wickedness, our proclivity for temporary life and eventual death and the subsequent fascination with the stuff that happens between, for a holy, eternal purpose, we then begin to work on that reason for which we were created. Is this a part of renewing one’s mind, in that with a new spirit, our goals, our selfish desires are different? If we first seek the Kingdom and God’s righteousness, does he not give us all our heart’s desire?
Again consider nearly every biblical character. Moses was one of those who abused his fellow Hebrew prior to his redemption and their subsequent Exodus; Jacob was a thief before he was Israel; Paul was Saul, a high-ranking Jewish scholar and a murderer. Yet each of them was made to accomplish God’s will after coming to him: Moses required the knowledge and culture of his Egyptian upbringing; Israel needed his cunning; Paul his knowledge of the law to convey the new covenant and his zeal to spread it under incredibly harsh circumstances. The key is that each person’s desires, their self-interest, changes when their heart does.
This entry is difficult to process as I am writing it, if for no other reason than as soon as I become convinced in the legitimacy of one’s self-interest, I encounter someone who fully pursues that interest but their selfishness smacks of that very appalling characteristic we all find repulsive. For that reason, I am sure I will deal with the importance of selflessness in the near future, too. That said, I see much more often, at least in the Body, those men and women who are anemic and impotent, so drained they are of themselves. They have not only emptied themselves, but also crushed their cup. This is just as wrong, as we are to be more than conquerors in Christ, as he came to bring us life more abundantly.
Don’t crush your cup.
Tags: Bible, bret ceren, christ, christian, christianity, disregard, humble, humility, Jesus, New Iron Media, self-interest, selfish, selfishness, selfless, vain, vanity