Solitary Conceit

C. S. Lewis was fielding questions from his audience. Someone asked how important church attendance and membership are to living a successful Christian life. From his book “God in the Dock,” his answer:

My own experience is that when I first became a Christian, about 14 years ago, I thought that I could do it on my own, by retiring to my rooms and reading theology, and I wouldn’t go to the churches and Gospel Halls; and then later I found that it was the only way of flying your flag; and of course, I found this meant being a target.

It is extraordinary how inconvenient to your family it becomes for you to get up early to go to church. It doesn’t matter so much if you get up early for anything else, but if you get up early to go to church it’s very selfish of you and you upset the house.

If there is anything in the teaching of the New Testament which is in the nature of a command, it is that you are obliged to take the Sacrament (John 6:53-54), and you can’t do it without going to church. I disliked very much their hymns, which I considered to be fifth-rate poems set to sixth-rate music. But as I went on I saw the great merit of it.

I came up against different people of quite different outlooks and different education, and then gradually my conceit just began peeling off. I realized that the hymns (which were just sixth-rate music) were, nevertheless, being sung with devotion and benefit by an old saint in elastic-side boots in the opposite pew, and then you realize that you aren’t worthy to clean those boots.

It gets you out of your solitary conceit. It is not for me to lay down laws, as I am only a layman, and I don’t know much.

Yeah, right. C. S. Lewis doesn’t know much. Oh, that I knew as little as he.

Solitary conceit. That one has snagged my attention and will not turn me loose. I see it in Christians who stand aloof from church attendance, in pastors who will not associate with other ministers, and in myself.


The Christian who stands aloof from identifying with a specific church suffers from solitary conceit.

“The churches today just don’t meet my need.” “They aren’t as warm and welcoming as churches ought to be.” “I find I can worship better at home with my Bible sitting in front of a blazing fire in the fireplace with a cup of spice tea at hand.”

Then you are smarter than God.

Do not forsake the assembling of yourselves together, as the manner of some is, but exhorting (encouraging) one another, and so much the more, as you see the day approaching. (Hebrews 10:25) The verse just before reads, “And let us consider one another to provoke unto love and to good works.”

The Lord thought every believer ought to belong to a fellowship of Christ-followers. The person calling himself a disciple of Jesus but not joining with other believers is attempting something never successfully done and specifically forbidden in Scripture.

I’ll tell you what I think it is. Just my opinion, mind you.

It is indeed a conceit. The solitary believer who will not join with other believers thinks himself/herself a better Christian than they. He visits a congregation and spots a class of church members he’d just as soon not be identified with. They are a little beneath him. Their brand of Christianity is not as refined as his. Their doctrines not as well thought out as his. They dress differently. Their music is not very good.

Solitary conceit is every bit as dangerous and destructive as it sounds.

We remember how Jesus said no one would enter heaven unless they humbled themselves as a little child. That’s the remedy for solitary conceit. Let the follower of Jesus Christ rebuke his pride and step forward in church and join those humble believers who are trying their best to follow Him too.

As C. S. Lewis noted, you just might discover you are not worthy to shine the boots of some of those whom you looked down on earlier.

The pastor who will not deign to associate with other preachers–particularly those shepherding smaller, less (ahem) insignificant churches–suffers from solitary conceit.

I know these pastors. Some are my friends.

My pastoral ministry was–like most preachers–begun in small, out of the way churches. Unity Baptist Church in Kimberly, Alabama, Paradis Baptist Church in Paradis, Louisiana, and Emmanuel Baptist Church in Greenville, Mississippi were not large and would not impress the pastors of the larger city churches in those areas.

As a young preacher, I recall being surprised at not finding the pastors of the First Baptist Churches in attendance at associational functions I would attend. “Where are they?” I wondered. I would have thought they would have delighted in attending these events where they could associate with other preachers. The fact that it was like bread and butter to me made me think they would see it as such also.

They didn’t.

Were we to ask them, those pastors would plead that a) they don’t have time, b) those meetings have little to offer them, and c) “We send our money.”

Baloney. It’s pride. Conceit.

We all find the time to do whatever is important to us.

Two or three years ago, I was given the opportunity to address the Alabama Baptist Convention meeting at First Baptist Montgomery in two sessions. In one, I directed a broadside toward “You pastors of the big Fust Baptist Church who are too much of big shots to attend your associational meetings.” I said, “My friends, get off your high horse, humble yourself, get in there and fellowship with those pastors and you might make a discovery. You will find that there are pastors of much smaller churches–even bi-vocational pastors–who can teach you a great deal.”

An “oooooh” went up from the congregation. I had touched a nerve.

Again, as C. S. Lewis discovered, you might find that bi-vocational pastor serving that handful of folks down at Shady Creek Chapel is a far greater Christian than yourself and has wisdom to offer like you have only dreamed of.

Solitary conceit afflicts pastors and should be seen as the isolating sin it is, and should be repented of.

I suffer from solitary conceit when I try to bear up under the load God lays on me alone, all by my lonesome.

We’ve all heard the plaintive cries of the four-year-old, “I can do it by myself!”

The immature within us makes the same claims, and is just as mistaken.

We need one another.

Anyone doubting that should spend two hours perusing the entire New Testament in search of “one another” texts. There are at least 31 places in the gospels and epistles where believers are commanded to do certain things to one another. We are to love, submit, encourage, rebuke, be kind, pray for, admonish, teach, build up, and forgive one another. (One of my favorite books is “One Anothering” by Al Meredith and Dan Crawford, containing devotionals on each of the 31 admonitions they find in Scripture.)

One of our highest privileges is praying for friends. One of my highest pleasures is sharing prayer requests with several friends who lift me up. I have seen answers to prayer in the remarkable range not long after asking for their prayers.

The old story has been retold thousands of times, but it fits here. When the pastor called on a church member who had been missing worship for quite some time, he said not a word but took the tongs and lifted a coal from the fireplace, laying it off to itself. Soon, it had died out and turned black. The church member said, “Well said, preacher. I’ll see you in church Sunday.”

We need each other. We need church. We need companions and friends along this journey. The one who says he does not contradicts the Lord Himself.

3 thoughts on “Solitary Conceit

  1. Amen!!! Especially thankful for your emphasis on bivocationalism. Amazing that bivocational pastors often “squeeze in time” to attend meetings when some “fust church” men claim not to have time. We can learn from each other, encourage each other, and pray for one another. Thanks for helping us look at the reality of the need to fellowship.

  2. I was born in New Orleans, spent the first 36 years of my life there, surrendered to the ministry and attended seminary (A Div., NOBTS) there. Valence St. Baptist Church is my home church. Bro. Hugh Martin was the pastor when I joined. (He also pastored Emmanuel Baptist Church in Greenville, Mississippi.) I know the city is considered particularly wicked, but I find that when you go somewhere, you usually find what you’r looking for. I can tell by your cartoons that you probably had a positive ministry, and would have been happy to know you.

    Blessings.

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