Confessions of a not very nice person

Jesus said, “Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you, for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets.” Luke 6:26.

I suppose it’s pretty bad manners to tell stories that reflect well on yourself, but something happened recently which was so unusual (not to say funny) that I’m going to do it anyway. Apologies in advance!

I got talking to a couple I know just very slightly, and somehow the conversation turned to what we had done jobs-wise. I mentioned that I was a retired minister. The wife’s jaw hit the floor and she looked at me in utter amazement: “You mean you’re a preacher?” she said.

“Er, yes,” I said. And then, “You seem surprised,” just to fill the silence, really. “Well, yes,” she said (and here comes the embarrassing bit): “you seem such a nice person, not like vicars I have known.” Now it was my jaw’s turn to hit the floor. I did mention earlier that this couple knew me only very slightly, didn’t I? Well, once I had regained my composure, I pointed this out to her and assured her that on closer acquaintance her opinion was very likely to change.

Quite possibly you get paid compliments right out of the blue on a regular basis. But this was very much a one-off for me, and it made me think. Over the next few days my thoughts covered quite a lot of ground…

First, and most basic (and shameful), I realised that the incident had made me proud and smug. Let’s face it, we all like to be paid compliments, don’t we, even when they’re totally undeserved? So, without even thinking about it, I felt pretty pleased with myself – flatly against the teaching of Romans 12:3: “do not think of yourself more highly than you ought…”

And then I realised that I had been shockingly judgmental. I had unthinkingly assumed that the preachers this woman had taken exception to were no good – oh, bound to be one of those vicars who don’t really believe the Bible or preach the gospel. Not like me. Oh no, not like me.

But then I thought, what right did I have to make such a judgment? What if those “bad” ministers had in fact offended that woman by having the courage and integrity to tell her something she didn’t want to hear – but something which she needed to know? What if the thing she had taken exception to was in fact the faithful preaching of the gospel? What then? I didn’t know otherwise, did I?

And then I found myself thinking about the whole question of popularity: of course we all like to be popular, that’s natural enough. But popularity can be a very dangerous thing. What was it Jesus said? – “Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you, for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets” (Luke 6:26). Yes! Being popular may be a sign not of Christlike goodness but of spiritual treachery. I wonder how often any of us seriously reflect on those sobering words?

(Not, of course, that we should go out of our way to be unpopular. There are people who seem to take delight in causing offence, as if that proves how virtuous they are; that’s obviously wrong.)

I don’t think there’s necessarily anything wrong with taking pleasure in somebody’s good opinion or genuine praise. If you’ve passed an exam, or won a sporting competition, or been awarded a prize for something – if you’ve gone out of your way to be kind, or considerate, or brave, or helpful, and somebody thanks you – well, why shouldn’t you feel pleased? Always assuming, of course, that you remain humble, and that you want, above all, to honour Jesus?

But to be praised by someone who barely knows you is a rather different matter! That lady had no basis for her high opinion of me apart from a completely superficial acquaintance. So what right did I have to feel good about myself, natural though that was?

What it all boils down to, I think, is this… How easy it is to jump to conclusions! How easy it is to think the worst of other people rather than the best! How easy it is to dismiss other people, even to inwardly condemn them, on the evidence of – what? – just plain hearsay or gossip or prejudice. Here’s another saying of Jesus, a rather better-known one, but equally sobering: “Do not judge, or you too will be judged” (Matthew 7:1).

Well, my warm glow of self-satisfaction and self-righteousness soon began to fade. Mr Popularity? Pah! Mr Smarmy Smugness, more like it.

The lady I shared that conversation with seemed, herself, a very nice person – certainly refreshingly outspoken! Perhaps I will get to know her a bit better in the days to come. I suspect that, whatever the rights and wrongs of her past dealings with “vicars”, she might have things to teach me about how sometimes we Christians come across to outsiders…

Father, you tell us in your word not to think more highly of ourselves than we ought. Please forgive me for the times I have been guilty of just that very sin. Lord, teach me true humility! Amen.