One-upmanship. A strange word, which describes a strange behavior. One who practices one-upmanship is trying to get more or do better than someone with whom they’re competing. We’ve got a little one-upmanship competition in the Myers household right now. When one of the children gets in trouble, it suddenly becomes an opportunity for the other child to assert the knowledge of his or her good behavior. If Chloe gets in trouble for not minding me Cole says, "I’m minding you, aren’t I Daddy?" If Cole gets in trouble for misbehaving Chloe asks, "Daddy, am I behaving?" They both know the answers to those questions before they ask them. It truly is a competition. They are competing for attention, for compliments, and (while I hope they would know better), it seems that they may be competing for an extra measure of my love. It’s as if they think that I will love the misbehaving child less and the behaving child more if they bring their good behavior to my attention in contrast to the behavior of their sibling. I guess it may make sense in theory, but in practice it’s just empty words and a waste of their efforts. I could not love either one of them less, nor could I love either one of them more. Their behavior reminds me of one of Jesus’ parables. There was a Pharisee and a tax collector, both praying in the temple (Luke 18:9-14). As the Pharisee prayed he thanked God that he (the Pharisee) was not like other people. He recited a laundry list of the "good" and "right" things he did. He even went so far as to thank God that he wasn’t like the tax collector who was praying nearby. It’s as if he thought God would love him more and the tax collector less if he pointed out the differences between the two of them. Yet the tax collector approached his prayer differently. He didn’t tell God all the "good" and "right" things he’d done. He didn’t compare himself to another. Instead, recognizing his own sinfulness, he made a simple prayer: "God, be merciful to me, the sinner!" According to Jesus, it wasn’t the Pharisee who left justified that day, it was the tax collector. Instead of telling God how good he was and comparing himself to others, the tax collector acknowledged his own failings and sought forgiveness for them. That’s what I’d rather Chloe and Cole do. Instead of pointing out their good deeds when the other gets in trouble, I’d rather they acknowledge their own misdeeds and seek forgiveness for them. That’s what your heavenly father wants you to do, too. And when you do, he will forgive you. Parrish Myers is pastor of Pine Crest Baptist Church in Gainesville. His column appears every other week in Sunday Life.
God wants acknowledgement of sins, not good deeds