Pride

Pride is a funny thing. We're told to be "proud of what you've done and who you are" and that resonates with me. There should be some point of pleasure taken in what you've accomplished...shouldn't there? But ultimately, pride becomes a much larger problem than it ever is an asset. It's what ruins our day. "How could they treat ME that way!?" It's all about ME! It was pride that caused the stuffy, old, white guy to demand that Rosa Parks give up her seat for him. Why should he have to sit in the middle, or worse yet, the back?! He's a white guy. He was proud of his color...and demanded that he be treated as a superior. It was pride that brought out and nourished his racism.
And maybe it was pride that caused Rosa to refuse. Stubborn pride? I'm not sure...but this is where I get confused. I'd like to think of it this way. She was right and she knew it. And because of the wrong that was being done on that bus and thousands of other buses, she was going to fight against it. It was a righteous anger. It was Jesus storming into the temple and railing against the religious guys who were using their power to keep people in their place. He was right. She was right. It just makes this whole pride thing confusing sometimes.

-
I pointed out a moment ago that the more pride one had, the more one disliked pride in others. In fact, if you want to find out how proud you are the easiest way is to ask yourself, 'How much do I dislike it when other people snub me, or refuse to take any notice of me, or shove their oar in, or patronize me, or show off?' The point is that each person's pride is in competition with every one else's pride. - C.S. Lewis