The Dethronement of The Old Man — Co-Crucifixion with Christ (2)
Let us, then, pause for a moment to take a full-length portrait of this hideous, heinous self; let us face his manifold operations honestly and see if we are not forced to accept God’s estimate of him and to acquiesce in the method of deliverance from his sovereignty. The foundation of life in the natural man is foursquare: self-will, self-love, self-trust, and self-exaltation. Upon this foundation is a superstructure that is one huge capital, “I.” Self-will is the cornerstone, and self-exaltation is the capstone.
Self-Will—”We have turned every one to his own way.” The flesh wants its own way and is determined to have it even if it defies and disobeys God and overrides others. “I will” is the alphabet out of which self fashions its language of life.
Self-centeredness—”the old man” feeds upon himself. He is the beginning and the end. Life presents little that interests or affects him except as it relates to himself. He is the center of the world in which he lives and moves, and he always looks out for number one.
Self-assertion—”the old man” believes that everyone is as interested in him and as fascinated by him as he himself is, so he protrudes and projects himself into the sight, hearing, and notice of others continually. He monopolizes conversation, and the theme is always “I,” “my,” and “mine.” He walks with a swagger and expects the world to stop working and look at him. And he never dreams of how offensive his self-importance is to others.
Self-depreciation—”the old man” is very versatile, and sometimes it suits his purpose better to clothe his pride in false humility. He curls up in his self-depreciation and shirks a lot of hard work, which other people have to do. He magnifies his littleness and feebleness to his own advantage, yet with strange inconsistency, he resents others’ taking his professed estimate of himself and treating him accordingly.
Self-conceit—”the old man” lives so much in himself that he does not know how big the world is in which he lives and how many other really intelligent people there are in it, so he has little regard for the opinions of others, especially if contrary to his own. He looks with proud and supercilious pity upon those less favored and gifted than himself.
Self-love—”the old man” loves himself supremely, one might say almost exclusively. He loves God not at all, and his human love for others is tainted more or less with selfishness, jealousy, envy, or impurity. Indeed, “the old man” makes an idol of himself, which he not only loves but also worships.
Self-indulgence—”the old man” eats, drinks, and is merry. For him to want anything is equivalent to having it. He pampers and coddles himself; he can even indulge his extravagant, fleshly appetites while others starve to death before his eyes.
Self-pleasing—”the old man” chafes under discomfort and deprivation and is grumpy and peevish unless everything in the life of his day ministers to his real or imagined needs. He lives unto only one person whose name is self.
Self-seeking—”the old man” is on a quest: he is after whatever will advance the cause of self. He seeks with feverish ambition and activity praise, position, power, prominence, and anything that checks his gaining them is attributed to others.
Self-pity—his love for himself often creates within “the old man” rebellion against his circumstances or relationships; he exaggerates his own possible suffering, discomfort, or sorrow and makes himself and others miserable by his habitual murmuring.
Self-sensitiveness—”the old man” is extremely hard to live with because he is covered with wounds and continually being hurt afresh. He is not very companionable because he is usually dissolved in tears, shrouded in silence, or enjoying a pout.
Self-defense—”the old man” is very jealous of his rights and busy avenging his wrongs. He indulges freely in lawsuits. In the pursuit of his own vindication and justification in cases of disagreement and estrangement with others, he is blinded by his own sin.
(to be continued)
Source: “Life on the Highest Plane” by Ruth Paxson