The devil, though His fall from grace was rooted in pride, knows how to use humility. Being craftier than the other beasts, he knows how to use nigh onto all things to bring about his nefarious purposes. He is resourceful, and overlooks nothing. His first attack upon man was to deny the very truth claims of God, to first cast doubt upon the word of God, “Has God indeed said…” until finally he claims that the very word of God is false, “You shall not die.”
As western culture began to lose its moorings in the revealed word of God, as enlightenment positivism posited itself as the arbiter of truth, that same strategy continued. God says we were made from the dust of the earth. The devil says we descend from single-celled chef-less chef’s surprise that popped out of the primordial soup. This strategy began to fall apart, as it became painfully obvious that the devil’s truth claims didn’t hold any water. His wisdom showed itself to be foolishness.
But he did not give up. Now instead of holding up his version of truth as a competitor for God’s version, the devil has determined to assault truth as an idea. Instead of offering an alternate vision of reality and pridefully proclaiming that his is true and God’s is false, he now humbly denies that his vision of truth is true, and pridefully says that neither is God’s vision of truth.
This is how our culture has moved from modernism to post-modernism, from the conviction that truth only comes through the application of our senses and our minds to external reality, while God is silent, to the conviction that truth is not real, that we each create our own truth, and all we can know is that which we create. On the surface it looks like a bad deal. What could a culture gain by giving up truth? It gains the façade of peace, and with it the façade of humility.
Wars, both literal and figurative, are fought over competing truth claims. Whether it is two small children fussing back and forth, “Did too!” “Did not!” or nations bombing each other over a truth claim that a particular piece of real estate is theirs, we find ourselves disagreeing, and, with only ourselves to serve as the final arbiters, with no transcendent source of infallible truth, settle our arguments through battle.
How much better if our son Reilly says to our son Donovan, “To me you shoved me,” and Donovan replies, “To me, I did not shove you” and they agree to disagree. How much better if Germany says to Poland, “To us, that region belongs to us,” and the Poles reply, “To us, it belongs to us.” Children and nations pat themselves on their collective backs. No one has the arrogance to suggest that they’ve cornered the market on truth, that the other is wrong. As both sides agree to disagree, swords are beat into plowshares.
It is the devil’s bargain. And when we trade with the devil we always lose what we offer, and never gain what he’s promised. Is there peace and humility in relativism? Suppose Donovan did shove my Reilly. Suppose I explain to Reilly that to him Donovan may have, but to Donovan he didn’t. What is to stop Donovan from shoving him again? What is to stop Reilly from shoving back, when the glorious humility from relativism removes objective guilt (which by the way, is the real reason it is so popular)?
Now my children are no longer arguing over who is shoving whom. Instead they are shoving each other all over the yard. What happens when tax collectors from Poland and Germany enter the same region? We can’t agree to disagree when we finally have to act. If you think the right way is north, and I think it is south, all the humility in the world will not make the car move.
My concern, however, is not with the foolishness of the world, but with the worldliness of the church. The supposed humility of relativism resonates with us because we know we are called to walk humbly with our God (Mal. 6:8). We find ourselves caught between a rock and a soft place, as we are called to press the truth claims of King Jesus, yet seek to mimic His meekness.
If the devil defines meekness for us, if he confuses relativism and humility in our minds, the battle is lost. The gospel of the Kingdom, if it is merely true for me, is the gospel of the devil’s kingdom. If it is only true for me that there is only one name under heaven by which a man might be saved, then it is not true that there is only one name.
We are indeed called to be humble. But true humility is that which bows before the truth of God, not that which would negotiate it. It is pride that leads us to humbly offer up the gospel as one alternative among many, when the one who paid for us says He is the way. It is humility to say with our Savior, “Repent, or perish.” It is pride to turn He who is the truth into a mere “true for me.”
The world tells us that we are arrogant, that we are love-less, that we are judgmental because we claim to have the truth. The accusations sting, in part because we are arrogant, loveless and judgmental. But it is pride that causes us to seek to wiggle out from under those accusations, by wiggling away from truth. Humility means being willing, like Jesus, to be persecuted for righteousness sake, to be willing to be thought proud because we feed upon the truth, and will not eat of the devil’s mock humble pie.
God knows our hearts. We speak, and we think coram Deo, before the face of God. He knows whether we are proclaiming truth for our glory or for His. And He knows, as we should, that every time we refuse to stand, we do so for our own sake. We are to be humble about ourselves. We are sinners still. We err in our thinking, and in our doing. We are a jumble of sins and lies. But we are to boast in Christ, who is the only way, the only truth, and the only life. If we will not proclaim Him before men as the only way, He will not proclaim us before the Father.
