P.O. Box 53055    
Los Angeles, CA 90053   

THE PERILS OF BEING TOLD YOU’RE PRETTY

I have two things to lay on you as we begin our Tuesday time of Bible study here on the Voice of Prophecy. First of all, folks, you are just the greatest radio audience a person could have. I appreciate each of you so much. Every time we come into this tiny little studio, and pray before opening up God’s Word, I really do SENSE you out there. And what a blessing you all are to us here at Box 53055.

Here’s the second thing I want for us to think about. Is it wrong to enjoy a compliment? Now, I just purposely gave you a good one . . . and I meant it. Without our listening audience, we obviously wouldn’t be here, and frankly, this is just a wonderful way to be a part of God’s Work. I enjoy it; everyone here enjoys it, and it’s friends like you who make it possible. But as I say these kind things to you, and you feel a bit of warm glow, is that wrong? Does it take you into the abyss of pride – and of course, we’ve been in pride’s parking lot for about a week-and-a-half now, thinking about how it’s Satan’s favorite playground.

Before we go further into this, I want to remind you of one of the most haunting pop songs going back at least three decades. It was a simple tune, no frills, sung by a raspy-voiced artist named Joe Cocker. Do you remember You Are So Beautiful? It ran about two minutes in length is all, and went like this:

“You are so beautiful – to me. You are so beautiful – to me. Can’t you see? You’re everything I hoped for; You’re everything I need. You are so beautiful – to me.”

That’s it! Joe Cocker slowly agonizes his way through that brief love stanza, twice . . . and as he finishes up the last line, “To me,” his voice almost cracks as he tries to hold the high note. It’s a desperately keening, bittersweet, tender ode to some mystery woman, some queen of rock ‘n’ roll that we’ll never know about.

And is it wrong to be the woman in question, to have someone say: “You’re so special. You’re all I need. You’re such a beautiful gift”?

You know, in a way, Joe Cocker’s hit almost sounds like it came out of the Old Testament biblical poem we know today as “Song of Solomon.” Its eight perfume-drenched chapters are filled with romance, with sighs and kisses and bedroom talk. And here’s a bit of rock trivia: the song You Are So Beautiful was actually written by a Bruce Fisher and Billy Preston. Preston, a piano player with an enormous “Afro” – back then – used to collaborate with groups like the Beatles and the Stones back in the 60s; he played the hot piano licks for Lennon and McCartney on Get Back! and had hits of his own like Will It Go Round In Circles? Over the years, he played a lot of gospel music as well, and in his own version of You Are So Beautiful, he sings to the woman of his dreams:

“Such joy and happiness – you bring. Such joy and happiness – you bring . . . like a dream.” And hum along with this: “A guiding light, That shines in the night. HEAVEN’S GIFT to me. You are so beautiful – to me.”

So while the Bible warns us about pride and about feeling like we’re better or prettier or more adored than others, it also seems to teach us that it’s all right to lie in a hammock with a bunch of posies and have the man of your dreams sing a gushy poem to you, call you heaven’s gift, and tell you that his hands are dripping with myrrh for you. How do we sort this out the next time we’re shopping for a Hallmark card?

Well, first of all, a compliment of sorts from the New Testament. In Second Corinthians 7:4, Paul is writing to some of his friends, and he graciously says to them:

“I have great confidence in you; I TAKE GREAT PRIDE in you.”

So praise is all right, and even this kind of pride is all right as well. But how is this pride different from the wrong kind, where we get so puffed up that we eventually float away from our Maker?

We started out last week taking some cues from the helpful book chapter “The Great Sin,” out of C. S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity. And right among the warnings, he then addresses today’s issue in specific detail.

“Pleasure in being praised is NOT Pride,” he writes. “The child who is patted on the back for doing a lesson well, the woman whose beauty is praised by her lover” – the enigmatic Mrs. Joe Cocker – “the saved soul to whom Christ says ‘Well done,’ are pleased and ought to be. For here the pleasure lies not in what you ARE but in the fact that you have pleased someone you wanted (and rightly wanted) to please.”

You see, making others happy is part and parcel of Christianity. The Apostle Paul is filled with kind words for new believers who “walk the walk” with steadfast joy, who exhibit love, who hold to the Gospel. The last chapter of Romans reads like the first five minutes of a politician’s speech, where he says: “Good job, Fred. Bill, couldn’t have done it without you, man. Francine, you were incredible.” Etc.
So, just like we do with cholesterol, how do we sort out “good pride” versus “bad pride”? This same essay by Lewis gives us some help with that too.

“The trouble,” he writes, “begins when you pass from thinking, ‘I have pleased him; all is well,’ to thinking, ‘What a fine person I must be to have done it.’ The more you delight in yourself and the less you delight in the praise, the worse you are becoming. When you delight wholly in yourself and do not care about the praise at all, you have reached the bottom.”

He goes on to suggest that if a person struggles with vanity, and is always fishing for compliments and needing “stroking” – even though this can be a psychological, even narcissistic, need – in terms of spirituality, it’s not the worst thing in the world because it actually shows that there is some hope for you.

“[Vanity] is a fault,” he concedes, “but a childlike and even (in an odd way) a humble fault. It shows that you are not yet completely contented with your own admiration. You value other people enough to want them to look at you. You are, in fact, still human. The real black, diabolical Pride comes when you look down on others so much that you do not care what they think of you.”

Some of the world’s most craven tyrants have gotten to that point, it seems, where even the world’s combined condemnation doesn’t faze them – like the recently deceased Idi Amin. They’re so wrapped up in themselves that they don’t care what ANYBODY thinks. But as Lewis points out in this important essay:

“Pride always means enmity – it is enmity. And not only enmity between man and man, but enmity to God.”

We’ve been saying all along that the great danger comes when we lose our willingness to take a proper place BELOW God, to be His subject, to care what He thinks. That’s fatal pride. Lucifer was so proud that he stopped wanting God’s praise and God’s approval, along with God’s protection. He really wanted to be left alone, and a God who values free will reluctantly gave him that benefit.

Is it possible that those of us who hold positions of leadership in the Church need to be careful how we praise and affirm others? Clearly it’s important that we do so; gracious words of affirmation are all through the Word of God. But there have got to be ways to say to those with whom we serve: “Friend, you did well. I appreciate it. And I know our heavenly Father is smiling down in pleasure at how you’ve served His kingdom.” And you see, we’ve spoken well about our friend’s DEEDS. At the same time we’ve strengthened his bond with God; we’ve cemented the tie of Creator to creature. We’ve promoted dependence, not INdependence.

I think back to conference administrators who took the time to make me a better Christian in this way. College professors whose compliments set me more firmly in God’s path instead of making me want to carve out my own. Listeners of our broadcast – people just like you, maybe – who took the time to send in a card or an e-mail which built up heavenly pride instead of human pride.

I want to say to each of you, right now, on this Tuesday: “You are so beautiful – to me.” You give this ministry purpose and meaning. You help make me a better preacher, a better servant, and you help give this entire ministry a purpose in God’s divine agenda. We want to stay right there, and we want to help you stay right there too.

FADE OUT WITH LAST LINE OF JOE COCKER RECORDING.