As I doodled on the corner of the new workbook that had just been passed out to me and the classroom full of eager-for-recess fifth graders, our teacher set herself to the task of teaching us all about “me-ology.” It was 1989, I was 10 years old, I was hardly the most introspective of children, but I remember thinking that there was something off about the material we were about to encounter.
The self-esteem movement had fully enveloped the classrooms and culture of the day. “If we can just teach people to value themselves, love themselves, believe in themselves,” was the thinking. “Learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all” (The Greatest Love of All written by Linda Creed & Michael Masser in 1977 and made a number one hit by Whitney Houston in 1985) was the creed. The common wisdom about your run-of-the-mill bully had become, “They pick on you because they don’t feel good about themselves” (lotta help that sentiment was when the bullies came out to play). By the early 90’s, it had even rose to the level of satirization via Al Franken’s character “Stuart Smalley” on Saturday Night Live (“I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and, dog gone it, people like me”). It was everywhere you looked. No matter the person or circumstance, the prescription was always the same: improve self-esteem by any means necessary.
Thus me-ology.
The antidote to low self-esteem is found in coming to understand, appreciate, and love myself.
I can remember my teacher in that fifth grade classroom—a devout Christian—citing the last few words Jesus spoke when asked about the greatest commandment (Matthew 22:36-40): “‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ See, it is important that we learn to love ourselves.”
It just didn’t sit right.
Last year I found myself in another educational setting. In the midst of all of the content, a sub-theme began to emerge: me-ology. It wasn’t called that, of course—a quick Google search reveals that there are likely lots of regional educational phenomena that have been lost to the pre-internet age forever—but the principle was the same, having only been amplified for a culture that loves Doritos, Mountain Dew, and hyperbole: “Own your arrogance” is how the sentiment had been packaged for 2023.
It just didn’t sit right.
I expressed hesitation in accepting the instruction and then all of the qualifiers came flying in. “Well, what they meant when they said ‘claim your arrogance’ was claim your competence.” “You know what they were really saying is that you should be confident in your abilities…in what you do well.” “No one really thinks they were talking about arrogance in that high-intensity, negative sense. You’re taking things too literally.”
Then, when the qualifiers inevitably fall flat, the defenses begin. “Why shouldn’t you be arrogant? You’ve earned that right.” “You know what you know and you should not afraid to let everyone know.” “You’re being a little naïve, acting like this isn’t how the real world is and acting like you’re not that way too.”
Most of those “quotations” are paraphrases, but none of the sentiments are made up. In expressing my perspective about the dangers of the instruction to “own my arrogance” I was pushed back against to the point of being accused of exhibiting “false humility.”
So, what is my problem with this thinking and this encouragement? What is it about this that struck me as morally wrong when I was a 10-year-old that still strikes me as morally wrong today? Am I right to be offput by this ideology? Is it morally wrong to “own your arrogance”?
Nothing of lasting value has ever been intentionally accomplished because someone placed a higher priority on self than on others. Self-esteem cannot be improved by becoming loving and accepting of self; indeed, self-esteem is fallacious to the point of non-existence in that it is entirely circular. To argue that you have value because you see yourself as valuable is as problematic as arguing that someone should pay you $100 per hour because that’s the value you’ve ascribed to your time. No, you are paid according to the value that the payee ascribes to your time and you are esteemed according to the value that the Creator ascribes to you. Your value, then, is not contingent on your perspective but on your Heavenly Father’s. In that lies the only real measure for how you should esteem yourself: your value and your due-esteem are not dependent on your mental, emotional, and spiritual assessment—all of which are mercurial—but on the rock-solid, unchanging, and utterly inscrutable determination of God.
This can be understood as the foundational fact of each human’s existence. It is true about every one. And this is truly freeing; freeing in a way that the proponents of the me-ology, self-esteem, and arrogance movements can’t even imagine. The methodology behind those movements, it turns out, is the cause of esteem issues, not the solution. Pursuing self-fulfillment is the quickest path to being unfulfilled. “Oh…you don’t feel fulfilled in life? Well, just keep chasing your hopes and dreams until you are. Oh…you don’t like yourself very much? Well, just keep looking at yourself until you do.” A person struggling with believing they have value is a person who is likely already in a quickly-flushing whirlpool of self-focus; this person does not need to be turned deeper inward, but allowed to pursue an outward perspective and an outward vocation.
As with most matters of morality and questions of whether I am in the right or in the wrong, I start with Jesus. So, with Jesus, a few phrases pop immediately to mind: first, “If anyone would be my disciple, let him first deny himself and take up his cross and follow me,” and second, “Greater love has no man than this: that he lays down his life for a friend,” and lastly, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven.”
Each of these statements—statements of Jesus related to the vocation of humanity—are marked by two characteristics: first, your personal worth is enunciated and, second, your focus is aimed outward.
Enunciation of your personal worth
Jesus sees you as worthy of being his disciple. Jesus sees you as being worthy of his self-sacrifice. Jesus sees you as being worthy of being called a child of God. All of these enunciations of worth are contingent only on you having been created by God. Your very existence is imbued with value, worth, and potential. God made you, treasures you, lays opportunities in front of you, and calls you into relationship with him. In doing so, he also calls you into an outward-focused vocation.
Your call to outward focus
Jesus calls you to take your eyes off yourself, to focus on him, and to follow in the way he leads. Jesus calls you to take your eyes off yourself, to focus on those around you, and to sacrifice your preferences out of love for others. Jesus calls you to take your eyes off yourself, to focus on your enemies, and to pray, hope, and work for their good. God—by his nature—is self-giving in creation and in relationship. You, having been made in God’s likeness, are designed by God to be self-giving in the same way. Turning your focus inward, then, runs contrary to your design and will lead to an inversion of the love, joy, hope, and peace of God.
You should take care of yourself. You should lead a healthy lifestyle, seeking to be physically, emotionally, and spiritually fit. You should pursue mental health, submitting to the guidance and treatment that professionals provide. You should desire love, joy, hope, and peace to be integral parts of your day-to-day life. All of that is true, and it is also true that loving yourself is not the greatest love. Though many people struggle in this regard, the truth is that loving yourself is the easiest love. Loving yourself is only useful when it is put in the proper context and order. The proper context is that you see yourself as God sees you: created by him for his purpose and loved by him as his children. The proper order is that you love God first. If you get that right then you are on our way to becoming more like him—empowered by the Holy Spirit in that endeavor—and in becoming more like him you will become a person who does not think of yourself more highly than you should (Romans 12:3) and who loves others, outdoing them in showing honor (Romans 12:10).