Audio Transcript

It’s the polar opposite of Christ. It’s the polar opposite of the holy life. Selfishness. “Selfishness,” Spurgeon once said, “is as foreign to Christianity as darkness to light.” The darkness of self-centeredness is the opposite of Christ and his gospel, and it undermines every aim in the Christian life. Self-defeating selfishness is still in us. We want to shed it. We must fight it. And that leads to today’s email. “Pastor John, I need your help in overcoming my selfishness. I’m a seventeen-year-old male. People around me, people I love and people who love me — especially my girlfriend — keep saying that I am selfish. I want to become selfless. The problem keeps coming back when I think I’m doing a good job being selfless. I’m sure I am unwilling and just don’t want to admit it. How can I learn to become a selfless young man?”

Well, not knowing you personally makes it a little bit awkward to give specific counsel. So I think the first thing I really should say is that it would probably be wise for you to seek out a mature Christian outside that circle that you’re talking about — perhaps your pastor or youth leader — and share with them some of the specifics of what people are saying that puzzle you, and get their insight into your heart as they know you personally.

Keep in mind that the apostle Paul said, “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom” (Colossians 3:16). That’s what you want. You want someone who’s rich in biblical wisdom, who is full of the word of Christ, who can admonish you close at hand. That’s what I can’t do. I have to speak from a distance in generalities. You need somebody who knows you — full of biblical wisdom, full of courage to speak the truth. So, that’s my first counsel. But let me try to say some general things that I hope might help.

Many-Headed Monster

Selfishness is a many-headed monster. It is, in a sense, the most destructive disease of the human soul. Absolutely nobody on this planet except for Jesus escapes the disease of selfishness. The heads of this monster are infinitely diverse — and I know that the word infinitely is an overstatement. I know that. But the point is the variety of manifestations of selfishness are endless in this life. You cut off one head and another grows up.

You might be a couch potato that is always expecting others to serve you your pizza, or you might be endlessly serving couch potatoes, deeply desiring that they make much of you for your service.

“Selfishness is a many-headed monster. It is, in a sense, the most destructive disease of the human soul.”

You might be the most prayerful person in your group, and you may have never confessed personal sin in your public prayers in that group and asked for forgiveness because you don’t want to reveal that part of yourself.

You may call continual attention to the injustices of the world and how others are being mistreated, but others can tell by looking at you that there’s a good deal of virtue signaling going on there as you show how discerning you are and how morally upright you are that you can spot such injustices.

There’s just no end to the subtleties of selfishness in all of us, not just a seventeen-year-old struggling with his own heart.

Face the Monster

We must fight this monster on two fronts. Both are biblical, and the second is dominant — should be dominant, let’s say. But they’re both right, good, necessary.

The first is to face the monster. Stare it down, own it, be brokenhearted by it. Hate it. Declare war on it. Kill it. That’s what Paul meant in Colossians 3:5 when he said, “Put to death therefore what is earthly in you” — and one of the things he mentions is “evil desire,” like selfishness.

That would include praying against it, spotting its first signs and resisting them, claiming your new position of acceptance and justification in Christ and saying, “I am a new creation. This ugly monster is not who I am. That’s not my true identity,” and then renouncing the temptation as alien to your soul, which it is. It is alien to your soul in Christ Jesus.

Now, that’s the first front — that direct, assailing, negative, killing fight that we must take up every day because that’s what the Bible says we should do.

Be Full of Christ

The second front that we fight on is filling our minds and hearts with so much of Christ that the selfish impulses are defeated by being suffocated. They don’t have room in your heart. They can’t breathe there. There’s too much Christ. They die, not mainly because of a direct attack, but because something has taken their place — namely, humble, thankful love for Christ.

So, the analogy is a jar full of toxic fumes. Now, what would be the best way to get those fumes out of the jar? You could attack them directly by attaching a vacuum and sucking them out — or more simply, more effectively, you could pour fresh, clean water into the jar and force all the toxic fumes out by replacing them.

This is how sins are overcome most effectively. Our soul is the jar, selfishness is the toxic fumes, and Christ is the water that pushes it out — specifically, Christ experienced in our knowledge of Christ, in our love for Christ, in our trust in Christ. The experienced Christ — present, reigning, ruling, taking up residence in our lives, fully in fellowship — pushes it out. In other words, the best way to fight selfishness is not to think about selfishness, but to think about Christ, and specifically to think about what a great Savior he is, what a great counselor he is, a great friend, a great Lord, sustainer, champion.

“The best way to fight selfishness is not to think about selfishness, but to think about Christ.”

If our lives, our minds, our hearts are overflowing with wonder at the greatness and the beauty and the worth of Christ, and the immeasurable value of what he’s done for us, it is not likely that we will be perceived as selfish. Selfish people are preoccupied with themselves and not with Christ. They have a longing that they be recognized, made much of, focused on, instead of Christ being recognized, made much of, focused on.

Consider Him

This is a matter of authentic, heartfelt emotion. You can’t produce this like a show. The goal is to feel — truly feel — the preciousness of Christ. That’s the goal. It has to be real. This is what Paul meant when he said, “I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord” (Philippians 3:8). That’s the key. That was not a show for Paul. He wasn’t putting on airs. He was expressing the deepest affections of his heart. “I love Jesus Christ more than anything.”

So, the strategy for overcoming selfishness is Hebrews 3:1, “Consider Jesus, the apostle and high priest of our confession.” Or Hebrews 12:3, “Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself.” This is the work of a lifetime, not the work of a moment — every day, focusing our mind’s attention and our heart’s affection on Christ and the kind of person he is and the greatness of the work that he has done.

I think Jesus had the danger of selfishness in mind when he told his disciples, who had just experienced great victories over Satan, that they should not rejoice in this, but that their “names are written in heaven” (Luke 10:20). In other words, it’s more effective in overcoming sin that we’d be amazed that we’re saved than that we’re successful — even successful by God’s power. You would think ministry success is a good thing to rejoice in, but Jesus says it’s even more important to rejoice that you know Christ, rejoice that you have a relationship with Jesus — that you spend time with him now, and you will spend eternity with him later.

Happiness with Open Arms

Let me say one more thing quickly before we stop. Since Jesus said to love our neighbor as we love ourselves, it’s clear that Jesus acknowledges there is a proper self-love. This is not self-esteem. This is doing what will bring infinite and eternal joy to your own soul. That’s self-love — doing what will bring infinite and eternal joy to your own soul.

And that’s what Jesus offers us. And then Jesus makes our desire for our own eternal happiness the measure of our desire for other people’s happiness, which is very radical. “Love your neighbor as [you love] yourself” (Matthew 22:39). Are you pursuing your own happiness? Yes you are. You are. Then make that the measure of your pursuit of other people’s happiness — other people’s good.

So, I would simply add this to your strategy against selfishness. Whenever you pursue something for yourself, which you will, you must — you eat, you sleep, you get exercise — ask this: “Do I have an effective desire in my heart that others would share with me in this temporal or eternal good and happiness?” It’s not selfish to seek your own happiness if part of — essential to — your own happiness is the sincere desire to include others in it.

John Piper is founder and teacher of desiringGod.org and chancellor of Bethlehem College & Seminary. For 33 years, he served as pastor of Bethlehem Baptist Church, Minneapolis, Minnesota. He is author of more than 50 books, including Desiring God: Meditations of a Christian Hedonist and most recently Providence.

It begins as a low, steady hum before twisting to urgent whispers, growing louder, tugging for more attention: Go ahead, buy just one more item; slip into one more coffee shop; numb yourself on social media. You deserve to be happy.

So you go for it: tossing a few more pretty pillows into your Target cart, purchasing yet another latte, indulging in a greedy gaze of that glamorous Instagram account. Or you pack for a beach vacation, hoping it will revive your spirits and usher in the winds of peace — only to find yourself tired, beaten down, and spiritually parched. A stale barrenness remains lodged in the crevices of your soul.

Especially in seasons of sadness, loneliness, and stress, it’s tempting to turn to fleeting pleasures for comfort, isn’t it? I remember a time when life seemed crushing, and I was desperate for something to comfort me.

God, in his kindness, gave me the solution: a Bible-saturated life.

Lost at Home

Our family had moved 1,100 miles across the country, with four young children, and I was lost, treading in deep, swirling waters. Everything important to me as a woman felt unfamiliar: our neighborhood, our home, the grocery store, the pediatrician’s office, the church. Even after the boxes were unpacked, I remained unsettled.

Our 4-month-old daughter stopped sleeping with any measure of consistency, our 2-year-old son continually asked when we were going “home,” and our 6- and 8-year-old boys tiptoed into our bed during the pitch of night, craving security in the midst of upheaval.

While my husband went to work each day, I remained at home: comforting my children, filling sippy cups, homeschooling, and completing circular, unending chores.

I appeared calm and ordered, but inside I was crumbling. Exhaustion, loneliness, and hidden waves of sadness engulfed me. I pushed it down, prayed haphazardly, opened my Bible randomly, and told myself that God understood. A verse here or there would have to suffice in shoring up my soul.

It was a horribly broken system. And it was failing.

Surprising Comfort

Then, one ordinary Friday, I packed up our children and journeyed to the library. My fingers traveled the book spines, desperately seeking something, and then paused on a book called The Pleasures of God.

I brought the book home, and during the children’s rest time began reading. Later, in the hush of night, after the dishwasher was emptied and the crumbs swept, I curled up on the sofa and read more. It did not take long: my brittle soul was watered as I was pulled back to the Bible — reading, rereading, and cross-referencing, awakened to truths that had always rested within arm’s reach. How could I have missed this?

Simple. I had not spent consistent time before the Lord (1 Samuel 12:24), with a quiet heart (Psalm 37:7), an open Bible (Psalm 119:18), and prayer (Isaiah 59:2).

As I began to unearth what makes God happy, reading verse by verse, chapter by chapter, Old Testament to New Testament, it was as if I had new eyes, seeing the magnificence of God through a kaleidoscope of unspeakable beauty. A new passion ignited within me: feast on Scripture every day, for all of life.

Reviving the Tired Soul

I can hear someone respond, “Just read more of the Bible and life will improve?” Perhaps you are doubtful.

Remember this: the Bible is not merely a book. As Hebrews 4:12 tells us, “The word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart.”

Bible reading has become my treasure hunt as I grab hold of Hebrews 4:12, expecting that God will speak to me through every passage: convicting, teaching, and encouraging. Day by day, he awakens me to who he is and what he desires. Day by day, he brings his comfort to parts of my soul out of reach from every other.

“When we open God’s word, he speaks, moving and shifting our souls. To treasure the Bible is to fully live.”

When we open God’s word, he speaks, moving and shifting our souls. To treasure the Bible is to fully live. How tragic, then, to shelve your Bible until Sunday morning rolls around — or to settle for only a verse here or there.

Just this morning I delighted in the reminder of Psalm 19:7–11:

The law of the Lord is perfect,     reviving the soul;the testimony of the Lord is sure,     making wise the simple;the precepts of the Lord are right,     rejoicing the heart;the commandment of the Lord is pure,     enlightening the eyes;the fear of the Lord is clean,     enduring forever;the rules of the Lord are true,     and righteous altogether.More to be desired are they than gold,     even much fine gold;sweeter also than honey     and drippings of the honeycomb.Moreover by them is your servant warned;     in keeping them there is great reward.

Do our tired souls need reviving? Do our sad hearts need rejoicing? Do our dim eyes need enlightening? We will find it all in God’s word. No wonder David describes Scripture as more precious than gold and sweeter than honey. More precious, too, than any pillow we could buy — and sweeter than any latte.

Gifts, Not Substitutes

As women, we naturally crave beauty, relationships, and rest. These desires are not wrong: we are made in the image of God — a God who authored beauty in his creation, made us for relationships, and ordained us for Sabbath rest. God himself designed the physical, the touchable, the earthly. Beautifying our homes, longing for deep friendships, and retreating to relax with family are good gifts from a good God.

But when these longings become disordered, sneaking in and claiming preeminence, our lives begin to implode. Our desperate reaching is a sign that our soul isn’t well, a cue that our footsteps are on dead-end paths. Only God can satisfy our souls. When he is first, other pleasures fall into their fitting places. Do we enjoy them? Yes. But they no longer govern us. Our unchanging God does, through our yielding to his word.

“When troubles and uncertainties erupt, and they will, remember that there is no substitute for the Bible.”

Tend to your own soul by quieting your heart, opening your Bible, and listening. There are no shortcuts. Do whatever necessary: rising early, canceling subscriptions, saying no to the temporal. And when troubles and uncertainties erupt, and they will, remember that there is no substitute for the Bible. Seek comfort and instruction in God’s word, and listen to him speak.

Open Bible, Quiet Heart

Elisabeth Elliot famously said, “The secret is Christ in me, not me in a different set of circumstances” (Keep a Quiet Heart, 20).

My circumstances did not change for the better after our move all of those years ago: I was still in the same unsettled situation, and life was lonely. For four years, I remained rootless, at least from a worldly perspective. My husband’s ministry kept us traveling on Sunday mornings, so I did not have a singular church home and flourishing friendships. The busyness of raising and homeschooling four young children was a work I loved, yet it was a heavy burden to carry without a support group of mothers nearby. My closest friends and family were a thousand miles away. Although I became acquainted with a few neighbors on a surface level, deep and godly friendships during that time were absent.

Yet there was a holy purpose hidden in that season, one that I see clearly now, as God lovingly pried earthly comforts from my grasp, turning my lonely heart directly back to himself through immersion in his word. I learned to abide in the Bible and trust him.

My children are grown now, and life looks different. But one thing has not changed: my soul’s need for Bible-saturated living. This is a lifelong pursuit, not a one-and-done conquering.

Recently, that old familiar feeling crept back, tugging as fresh trials unfolded. I began to neglect communion with God, choosing to curl inward. Feeling spiritually parched and a little sad, I thought, What do I need? More time for me? More time to serve myself? A vacation? More understanding? A friend who “gets it?”

Nope. Just an open Bible, the life-giving Spirit, a quiet heart, and prayer.