Breaking Habits of Self-Deification

By Fr. Jerry Pokorsky ( bio - articles - email ) | Apr 14, 2025

The Devil tempted Adam and Eve. “Ye shall be as gods.” We may feel a tug of resentment for their sin of pride. Why weren’t they content to allow God to be God? One God suffices. But if we’re honest, we may notice our own ugly patterns of self-deification.

Caiphas played God. He sized up the state of Israel during the Roman occupation and worried about the threat. He feared the Romans would view Jesus as a revolutionary. Although he was the High Priest, he preferred his international relations expertise. A man of religion in high places may treat his faith as a pious ornament—like prayer tassels or the appurtenances of religious rank.

The history of Israel has many compelling stories instructing obedience to God’s law—Abraham, Exodus, and the Prophets. But Caiphas thought he had bigger geopolitical fish to fry, such as keeping Jerusalem safe from the Roman occupiers. So he worked the math and concluded, “It is expedient for you that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation should not perish” (Jn. 11:50) (The phrase is an article of faith in modern geopolitics.)

Pilate played God. He ruled that god-forsaken land and the Romans participated in many acts of brutality to suppress opposition. But the history of the Maccabean revolt was fresh in their minds. So the Romans gave religious latitude to those rambunctious Jews. But crucifixion became a Roman favorite form of punishing criminals and crowd control.

Unlike Caiphas, Pilate had a surprising sense of humanity. Jesus intimidates him with his innocence. During his interrogation of Jesus, Pilate finds no guilt in Him. He does his best to persuade the crowd. Intending to gain the crowd’s sympathy for the release of Jesus, Pilate has Him scourged and mocks Him: “Behold the man.” (Jn. 19:5) The gambit fails. With fearful symmetry, the crowds even choose the vicious insurrectionist Barabbas (“the son of the father”) over the innocent Jesus (“the Son of the Father”).

Pilate’s most memorable line is brief. Jesus reveals he came to testify to the truth. But Pilate is unable to recognize Truth Incarnate standing in front of him. Pilate’s skeptical and cynical remark echoes throughout history: “What is truth?” (Jn. 18:38) The question forms the crossroads of every human path. We either follow Jesus—the way, the truth, and the life—or we despair in meaninglessness. But followers of Jesus live in freedom: “You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” (Jn. 8:32)

Beginning with his cosmic rebellion before the creation of the world, the Devil envies the Deity. Before His public ministry, Jesus spends 40 days in the desert fasting (cf. Mt. 4:1-11). The Devil exploits human weakness, so he taunts Jesus: “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.” “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down [from the pinnacle of the Temple]” and the angels will save you. The Devil, the Prince of the World, offers an illusory and diabolical reward: You will be the world’s lone superpower “if you fall down and worship me.”

The Devil’s temptation returns in human form during the Crucifixion. This time, the torment of Jesus was much more than hunger, and the Devil used human cutouts. His enemies at the foot of the Cross echo the temptations in the desert: “[If] he is the King of Israel; let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him.” (Mt. 27:42)

Catholics—even the most devout among us—often pray, “If you are the son of God, cure me… If you are the son of God, force my spouse or children to give me more respect… If you are the son of God, replace my supervisor… If you are the son of God, bring world peace.” We are not praying for the graces to confront our problems in freedom. We are asking God to impose our will through Him on our enemies. Like the Devil and the enemies of Jesus at the foot of the Cross, we measure God by His response to our almighty bidding. We’re not praying. We’re playing God.

Praying for good health, happy families, workplaces, and world peace is praiseworthy. We ask to partake in God’s divine nature (cf. 1 Pet. 4), give us the grace to endure and heal, bring us to repentance, and shower grace on our enemies to bring them to their senses. But too often, our prayers are not prayerful petitions but bitter taunts and acts of self-deification.

Breaking secret habits of self-deification begins with an examination of conscience. Like Judas, do we betray Jesus to maintain good standing with the powerful? Like the Apostles—the newly ordained priests—do we flee Jesus during perilous times? Like Herod in his palatial comfort, are we indifferent to, even amused by, by the suffering of others? Like Peter, do we deny Jesus to deflect attention from our friendship with Him? Like the soldiers at the foot of the Cross, do we take cynical delight in the suffering of our inferiors? Like Caiphas, do we justify injustice, even mass murder in war, with the slogan, “Better that one man die than an entire nation”?

Like Pilate’s wife, are we moved by innocence? Like the Good Thief, do we compare our suffering to the innocent suffering of Jesus? Do we have the love and reckless courage of the holy women at the foot of the Cross? Like Mary Magdalene, does our love of Jesus overcome the illicit pleasures of past sins? Like John, the beloved disciple—after initial cowardice—do we return to the Cross in love and friendship? Like Mary, do we grieve with the unshakable (and perfect) faith that Jesus will overcome all sin, suffering, and death?

Jesus is God, and the Cross reveals His divine Kingship. Come, let us adore Him.