God opposes the proud

“Who then is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” Jesus answered by calling a little child and placing him among them. “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 18:1–3

Notice the shock of His answer. The disciples asked about greatness in the Kingdom, and Jesus responded by stating the entry criteria into the kingdom . In effect, He said: forget about who is greatest, you may not even make it in. This was not spoken to pagans, idol worshippers, or outsiders. This was spoken to disciples. Men who walked with Jesus, served Him, heard His teaching daily, and were actively involved in ministry. The warning is unmistakable: Unchecked pride can disqualify you from the Kingdom, proximity to Jesus does not guarantee entry into the Kingdom. Activity does not replace humility. Service does not cancel pride.

This was not an isolated moment. On another occasion, when the disciples returned rejoicing that demons submitted to them, Jesus shut down their celebration. “Do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” In other words: Get your priorities right!

We often speak of salvation when evangelising the world, but rarely do we turn the lens inward. Yet Scripture forces us to. Judas walked with the Twelve, heard Jesus teach day and night, handled ministry finances, and kissed the Son of God, yet never belonged to Him. (Jesus answered them, “Did I not choose you, the twelve? And yet one of you is a devil.” He spoke of Judas the son of Simon Iscariot, for he, one of the twelve, was going to betray him). That alone should terrify comfortable Christianity. It is entirely possible to be deeply involved in church, active in ministry, fluent in Scripture, admired by others, and be full of ourselves; traveling confidently down the ‘broad road’ toward the wrong destination.

Jesus Himself redefines salvation in sobering terms. “Many will say to Me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy, cast out demons, and perform miracles in Your name?’ And I will say to them plainly, ‘Depart from Me. I never knew you.’” Power is not proof of salvation. Ministry success is not evidence of intimacy. Spiritual activity can coexist with spiritual deception. Salvation is not defined by what we do for God, but by whether God knows us. And pride is one of the clearest roadblocks to intimacy. Peter confirms it plainly: “God opposes the proud.” Not ignores. Not tolerates. Opposes. God actively resists the proud, even when they are religious.

Jesus drives this point home in the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector. The Pharisee is moral, disciplined, doctrinally sound, and visibly religious. The tax collector is an outcast—grouped by Jesus elsewhere with pagans and sinners. Yet the Pharisee prays with pride, and the tax collector prays with brokenness. One goes home rejected. The other goes home justified. Heaven closes its door to the religious man and opens it to the humble sinner. Humility changes everything. This should shake us. Jesus embraces the broken, the sinful, the ashamed, when they come low. And He may reject those we admire as godly when pride rules their hearts. God sees what we do not. He does not evaluate by visibility, reputation, or ministry output. He judges the heart.

I believe we still have Pharisees in our churches. And I believe we also have liars, manipulators, sexually broken people, addicts, and deeply flawed sinners sitting beside them. The difference is not the sin, it is the posture. One comes justified because he knows he is unworthy. The other is rejected because he assumes he is. The tax collector went home justified. The Pharisee went home deceived.

That reality should not make us debate theology. It should drive us to our knees.

Lord, expose every trace of pride in my heart—especially the kind dressed in religion, knowledge, and service. Deliver me from trusting my activity instead of my humility, my obedience instead of Your mercy, my reputation instead of Your grace. Make me low before You. Teach me to tremble more than I perform, to repent more than I impress, and to depend more than I boast. Do not let me be near Your Kingdom yet barred from entering it. Search me, break me, and keep me small, that You alone may be great in me. In Jesus’ name, amen.