What is pride? It is chiefly a deification of oneself, a prostration of yourself to yourself. Pride is, ultimately, the creature playing the Creator, not in the sense that children–say–play as super heroes, rather, in the sense that a schizophrenic thinks he’s the Queen of England. We are all, at every hour, on the cusp of delusion, of thinking that we–mere worms–are above the heavens. Pride is weakness, it is man abandoning God for himself. We shun the infinite intellect for the imbecile, finite mind. And, in the end, we will reap our own destruction. Worms without God aren’t anything special, they’re just worms. We would be worthless without Him.

Without His love for us we would be merely chunks of organic matter–ape-like creatures aimlessly lost among the churning of mindless matter. We would be purposeless, valueless beings. But, for some strange reason, He loves us. And His love changes our place in the cosmos. His love, on an ontological level, makes us, otherwise worthless things, into the children of the Divine. But why does He love us? I have thought before that perhaps we are like baby birds with broken wings. He takes pity on us–he loves us because we are stupid and hurt. I can’t imagine, however, laying down my life for a baby bird. God’s love is mysterious. His love is infinite, it is pure, it is totally self-giving. Pride is the act of turning away this beautiful gift, this love that sustains the existence of all things, to drown in one’s reflection.

The dryness of the soul can work its way through pride. With pride we pour out the blood of God to fill our chalices with our blood–we drink of ourselves, we revel in our own glory. Pride leaves no room for Him. And, thus, there is an absence of God–an infinite hole in our hearts. Many think they can fill that hole with themselves. But what happens when you fill an infinite abyss with the finite? You collapse in on yourself, you fall forever, you cast yourself into the black, the bleak, the terror, the darkness–the whirlpool of your sin. The only escape: humility. Thomas à Kempis, the author of The Imitation of Christ, understood this. He writes in the voice of Christ addressing a Christian disciple:

MY CHILD,

I must be your supreme and last end, if you truly desire to be blessed. With this intention your affections, which are too often perversely inclined to self and to creatures, will be purified. For if you seek yourself in anything, you immediately fail interiorly and become dry of heart.

Refer all things principally to Me, therefore, for it is I Who have given them all. Consider each thing as flowing from the highest good, and therefore to Me, as to their highest source, must all things be brought back.

From Me the small and the great, the poor and the rich draw the water of life as from a living fountain, and they who serve Me willingly and freely shall receive grace upon grace. He who wishes to glory in things apart from Me, however, or to delight in some good as his own, shall not be grounded in true joy or gladdened in his heart, but shall be burdened and distressed in many ways. Hence you ought not to attribute any good to yourself or ascribe virtue to any man, but give all to God without Whom man has nothing.

I have given all things. I will that all be returned to Me again, and I exact most strictly a return of thanks. This is the truth by which vainglory is put to flight.

Where heavenly grace and true charity enter in, there neither envy nor narrowness of heart nor self-love will have place. Divine love conquers all and enlarges the powers of the soul.

If you are truly wise, you will rejoice only in Me, because no one is good except God alone, Who is to be praised above all things and above all to be blessed.

–The Imitation of Christ, Book III, Chapter IX

Let us die now to ourselves and love God as He loves us.