"The Unholy Vice of Self Esteem"

A few weeks ago I started a blog post on the topic of the sin of vainglory, based on the writings of St. John Climacus. But I got bogged down in some theological underbrush concerning the work of St. John Cassian, and never finished it. Why did I feel compelled to write about it? Well, let's just say it must have been on my mind.

Maybe it's best I never got it off the ground. After all, how can a man who suffers from the temptation to, and sin of, vainglory, who has not mastered it, possibly write about how to deal with it? Like a blind man leading a blind man.

But then last night I read an article at Aleteia on the topic that struck a nerve, jabbed a finger in the side and twisted a little. Somebody had beat me to it, but it was much better that I read it from someone who obviously has a much better mastery over this sin than I do.

In my twenties, lust and chastity were the respective temptation and elusive virtue of the day for me. I wrote about the "finger in the side"--reading a book about chastity in marriage, that caused me to throw it across the room, here. It was a severe and painful mercy. I've learned to pay attention to those moments. I had a similar reaction to this article. I woke up from some unsettling dreams after reading it before bed (I never dream) and my spirit continues to be unsettled today.

Honestly, the sin of lust and unchastity has for the most part been tempered and set underfoot now in my late thirties. But like a Whac-a-Mole game at Chuck-E-Cheese, you get a hold of one sin and another pops us to be wrestled with. By and far away the most pernicious that I deal with today, is pride and vainglory. The Devil just. never. quits.

St. John Climacus rejects the view that pride and vainglory should be separate from one another to constitute eight (rather than seven) deadly sins. I kind of held this view without even knowing much about how the devil uses these temptations against us. St. John recounts it in this way, and it stopped me dead in my tracks:

"A man of insight told me this: "I was once sitting at an assembly," he said. "The demon of vainglory and the demon of pride came to sit on either side of me. One poked me with the finger of vainglory and encouraged me to talk publicly about some vision or labor of mine in the desert. I shook him off with the words, 'Let those who wish me harm be driven back and let them be ashamed' (Ps. 39:15). Then the demon on my left at once said in my ear, 'Well done! Well done! You have become great by conquering my shameless mother.' Turning to him I answered appropriately, making use of the rest of the verse, 'Defeat and shame on all who say, "Well done! Well done!" "And how is it, I asked him, that vainglory is the mother of pride?" His answer was this, "Praise exalts and puffs me up, and when the soul is exalted, pride lifts it up as high as heaven-and then throws it down into the abyss.""

There is an antidote, however:

"The Lord often humbles the vainglorious by causing some dishonor to befall them. And indeed the first step in overcoming vainglory is to remain silent and to accept dishonor gladly. The middle stage is to restrain every act of vainglory while it is still in thought. The end - insofar as one may talk of an end to an abyss - is to be able to accept humiliation before others without actually feeling it. 

Do not conceal your sin because of the idea that you must not scandalize your neighbor. Of course this injunction must not be adhered to blindly. It will depend on the nature of one's sinfulness. 

If ever we seek glory, if it comes our way uninvited, or if we plan some course of action because of our vainglory, we should think of our mourning and of the blessed fear on us as we stood alone in prayer before God. If we do this we will assuredly outflank shameless vainglory, that is if our wish for true prayer is genuine. If this is insufficient let us briefly remember that we must die. Should this also prove ineffective, let us at least go in fear of the shame that always comes after honor, for assuredly he who exalts himself will be humbled not only there but here also. 

When those who praise us, or, rather, those who lead us astray, begin to exalt us, we should briefly remember the multitude of our sins, and in this way we will discover that we do not deserve whatever is said or done in our honor. 

Some of the prayers of the vainglorious no doubt deserve to win the attention of God, but He regularly anticipates their wishes and petitions so that their pride may not be increased by the success of their prayers. 

Simpler people do not usually succumb to the poison of vainglory, which is, after all, a loss of simplicity and a hypocritical way of life."

These teachings and admonitions above are on the topic "On Vainglory" and is separated out from the section "On Pride." But because Pride is the most deadly of sins ("alien to every virtue, as darkness is to light"), and vainglory its handmaiden, it should lead us to recoil in horror when we find it spreading roots in our souls. It was pride that led to Satan's fall from heaven, for "The proud man wants to be in charge of things. He would feel lost otherwise." When you can relate to and nod your head to such words, you had better get to your knees, and fast. Nothing should fill us with more horror or dis-ease than pride and its cousin vainglory in our midst.

What has exacerbated this so much in my life is the "double edged sword" use of social media. I am really edified by the community, my Catholic friends with whom we pray for one another, educate, and support. I learn a lot from others more seasoned than myself. But it is also a platform for exhibitionism, humblebragging, envy, covertness, dejection, flattery, intemperance, lack of prudence, lack of charity, self-love, vainglory, and, yes, pride. I regard it is a tool in my life, but it is one with a lot of power, one I am not all that great at or skilled in handling. It's hard for me to regulate, and test my resolve with regards the passions, even under the mantle of faith and religious veneer. I want to cut it off completely, like a hand or eye that causes me to sin.

I think back to reading something from an interview with the Abbot at the Abbey of Gesthemane, who was the spiritual father of Thomas Merton (or maybe it was a friend, I can't remember). He said that Fr. Louis (Thomas Merton) wanted to be a hermit, so long as his hermitage was in Times Square with a neon sign above it announcing "Hermit lives here!"

How shameful. Thomas Merton is not someone I want to emulate. And yet how much I can relate. I would say it is the exhibitionist curse of being a writer. But the truth is, we all struggle against pride, vainglory, and the thirst for recognition in our own ways. We all seek recognition and affirmation in our own ways. I am not unique, but when I see it in myself, I am deeply ashamed, embarrassed, and singed by the horror at the realization of the fate of such a person who is overtaken by this passion and sin. As Nathan the prophet told David when he could not see, "You are that man!"

I don't know what to do about social media. I can't cut it out completely, as I an administrator for pages for work. I'm bad at setting rules and regulating things. I am grateful to the author of the article at Aleteia for putting a finger in my side. I know what I need to focus on, what I need to throw myself on the mercy of God in prayer for. Get it into the light, flush it out, and remember that I am nothing, I merit nothing, and I can do nothing on my own.

Please pray for me for discernment and fortitude.