We think of proud men as being exceptionally boastful and gratified with themselves, but this vice is far more widespread, and many of us are trapped in its clutches.
A woman overly-gratified by her own beauty is considered vain, but a woman always lamenting her plainness is clearly suffering a different manifestation of exactly the same misplaced priorities. Similarly, a man or woman often vexed and discouraged by his or her lack of intelligence, talents, or accomplishments is in the grips of pride. I myself am guilty of this. I have failed to make any notable contributions to human knowledge, but this is true of many people, and it doesn’t seem to bother most of them.
We perhaps don’t feel a need to be the very best–the smartest or most handsome, the best basketball player or pianist–but we are desperate not to be the worst. Consider how desperate we are to find faults in those around us, to find some way that we are better than them. “Yeah, okay, that guy’s taller than me, but he’s also got more of a gut.” My daughters have noticed that for a day after going to the car wash, we all become car snobs, pointing out the dirt on every other car on the road. The less we have objectively to boast of, the more desperately do we cling to every petty marker of superior relative status. What is the matter of me? Wouldn’t it be easier, wouldn’t it be a relief, to say simply “Yes, I’m the least impressive of all” and just stop thinking about it?
When we admire someone, we admire his qualities (bravery, wisdom, beautiful singing voice,…) or accomplishments (wrote a novel, solved one of Hilbert’s problems, set a world record,…). When we love someone, we love the person himself as a unique individual, the person behind and prior to all qualities and accomplishments. We all know that love is the superior valuation–it is better to be loved than admired. And yet, in our pride, we want to be admired. “Don’t look at me; look at my qualities.” The proud man scorns love as too easily given. Each person is loved by his mother, so a mother’s love is not indicative of quality, from which one easily concludes that it’s nothing to be too pleased about. And yet what could be more precious than, what could see as deeply as, the sort of love a mother gives? But it is not what the proud man wants.
To go to heaven, you must sacrifice your pride.
“Do you mean I should want to become forgotten, invisible?”
No, it means you must allow yourself to be loved.
The Orthosphere 
Beautiful and so true! We are made in God’s image, we are loved for our very selves. What a lovely post!
“To go to heaven, you must sacrifice your pride.
“Do you mean I should want to become forgotten, invisible?”
No, it means you must allow yourself to be loved.”
So good.
Good and thought-provoking reflection.
I agree with some of what you wrote, but I would say that there’s also more to the whole picture.
If you’re not the best, and you know for a fact you’re not going to be the best, then what’s the value of doing something?
As a thought experiment, imagine someone living in a medieval town helping to construct a cathedral. If you’re not a brilliant architect or craftsman, then what’s the value of your contribution? It has to be the purpose itself. Not everyone can be the best, but what you’re doing can be worthwhile because it’s a real contribution; it really adds to what is being done. It has to be the value of the task itself.
I agree that love is superior to admiration, but it’s not just love or admiration, there’s also love and purpose. Disappointment in not accomplishing something isn’t just pride. It is natural and good for human beings to have purpose and to accomplish things. And the value of the accomplishments come from what they are in themselves, not based on their evaluation by society. While love and admiration can be at odds, love and purpose are distinct but both good in their own spheres.
In the end, we must sacrifice even the desire to be useful. Most of us spend our last years as invalids, with our children and strangers taking care of us. It is a hard lesson in humility, I’m sure, but God surely has arranged it for good reason, that this trial is what we most need, that in the end we find holiness in accepted helplessness even better than we did when helping others in the days of our strength.
I remember when I first read C.S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity for the first time finding his distinction between vanity and pride interesting. If I recall correctly, vanity, while still a sin, is not as bad as pride proper because with vanity, you still value other people enough to care about what they think. While with pride, you simply do not care about others at all.