A Note from Me
The word “vain” means empty—without weight, without substance. So vainglory is the absence of real glory. It often shows up as a craving to appear spiritually deep or religiously mature before we actually are. It wants the image of transformation without the long intimate journey that produces it. As Henri Nouwen put it:
“We so much want to be looked at but we are ill-prepared to be seen.”
I’ve said elsewhere in this book that I was shaped by a form of Christianity that emphasized speed, performance, and image—what I’ve come to call Transactional Christianity. In that world, growth is often measured by appearance, and it’s easy to skip the slow interior work. The result? Vainglory. Not because everyone’s trying to impress, but because the system rewards visibility, platform, and the illusion of goodness.
Transformational Christianity cuts against that.
- It doesn’t emphasize performance, but modest practice.
- It doesn’t urge us to stand out, but to become one of the community.
- It doesn’t reward visibility, but encourages obscurity.
Vainglory doesn’t disappear with maturity—it becomes more subtle. The further you’re transformed, the more tempting it is to want to be seen for it.
From Chapter 8 of my first book *Dwelling in Christ: Discover the Threefold Path of Spiritual Transformation
A Voice from the Christian Tradition
How does vainglory become a habit? Through a process like this: Because of glory’s association with goodness, vainglory can insidiously begin when we do great things and win respect for them, which typically brings us public recognition and renown. So the vainglorious person is often someone who begins by valuing a good thing or quality which wins her respect and attention. As time goes on, she grows to anticipate and expect others’ positive feedback. She easily gets more and more attached to her audience and their reactions to her goodness. Being respected and acclaimed feels good! Her tendency to value the goodness what was her original focus erodes as the center of value slowly shifts toward the attention she gets for it. A community’s high expectations for the person to deliver more great achievements (in virtue or something else) can create pressure. She may even become willing to sacrifice integrity here and there to maintain her reputation, even when she can’t quite pull it off on a given occasion, compromising her original view of what was truly valuable. Over time she may resort to faking her goodness or showing off more ephemeral goods in order to keep the same level of attention coming. At this point the vainglorious person primarily desires an audience—any audience.
—Rebecca DeYoung, Vainglory
A Question to Carry
What small practice could help you embrace obscurity this week?
Until next week,
—Jon
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