Regarding Jealousy

Proverbs 27:1:

Do not boast about tomorrow,
 for you do not know what a day may bring.
Let another praise you, and not your own mouth;
 a stranger, and not your own lips.
A stone is heavy, and sand is weighty,
 but a fool’s provocation is heavier than both.
Wrath is cruel, anger is overwhelming,
 but who can stand before jealousy?
Better is open rebuke
 than hidden love.
Faithful are the wounds of a friend;
 profuse are the kisses of an enemy.

Amen.

It is very able to separate friends; it can dissolve a romance, foster bitterness in a family circle, create disunity on a sports team, destroy a marriage: jealousy.

This morning, in the brief time that we have together, we’re going to look at this not from the perspective of godly jealousy or the jealousy of God or the natural and proper jealousy that a husband would feel in the protection of his wife or daughters or in the esteeming of a name—that is another study—but rather to think about it as one of the pernicious things that is easily and too readily regarded, in the context of Bridges’s book, as one of the evangelical “respectable sins.”[1] Some of us find it distinctly possible to rail against all kinds of things while falling foul of this peculiar snare.

Those of us who were present last evening have gone to bed and awakened this morning still basking, as it were, in the afterglow of our study of that wonderfully intense and helpful passage. And as I came to the end of the study, my own personal thinking, apart from the way in which we were directed, was “Goodness! Now I have to speak about jealousy after that. After the immensity and intensity of that, we’re going to think about jealousy.”

And then I let my eyes scan to the opening phrase of chapter 13, and the writer to the Hebrews moves from the complexity and the majesty of all that he’s been saying about the glorified saints in heaven and so on and the finished work of Christ, and the very opening phrase of chapter 13, if you look at it, is “Let brotherly love continue.” What is, then, the implication of this borne into the life? And he goes on to say, “You better love each other as brothers. You better not mess your marriage up. You better make sure that the leadership in your church is in place.”[2] In other words, it seems highly appropriate, without it being designed, that we should make sure that we’re paying attention to the challenge that is here.

“Wrath is cruel, anger is overwhelming, but who can stand before jealousy?” Whenever we feel that the success of others is a threat to our own and when we seek to try and explain it away, whether we are prepared to admit it or not, we are wrestling with insecurity and with jealousy.

It is unusual to be jealous of somebody who is vastly removed from us. For example, I don’t lie in my bed on the average Sunday evening and recriminate about the fact that Billy Graham preached to a million people in Seoul, Korea, and I had such a small attendance at my evening service. The two things are so vastly different to one another, there’s no sense of jealousy at all. But I might be jealous if I find what happened to one of my friends a little further up the road. I don’t lie awake at night and bemoan the fact that my golf swing is not as good as that of Rory McIlroy. In fact, it’s not even in the same planet as the golf swing of Rory McIlroy. But it doesn’t keep me awake at night. It doesn’t disturb me. I’m not jealous of him. I admire him. But I might be jealous of you if you play close to me in my handicap and you keep beating me. No, it’s always in the proximity of things that jealousy emerges. If you have an adequate grasp of physics, you’re not going to be jealous of somebody who is a genius. But you may be jealous of your friend who got that A-plus when you only managed to get a B.

I want to think—and to do it in a sense like a charcoal sketch, leaving you the elements, the framework of something to consider on your own, to do as your own homework—I want to think about it in terms of the characteristics of jealousy (at least some of them), the consequences of jealousy, and the cure for jealousy, and all that within the space of the next twenty-three or twenty-four minutes. I’m not going to work out all these points for you. I’ll give them to you, and you can find your own way with them.

The Characteristics of Jealousy

First of all, then, let me say a number of things concerning the characteristics of jealousy.

One: Jealousy can’t stand it when others are doing better. Now you say, “Well, did you come just to point out the obvious?” Yes, in some measure I did. Genesis 26:14: “[Isaac] had [possession] of flocks and herds and many servants, so that the Philistines envied him.” They just couldn’t handle the fact that Isaac was in possession of all the things that they themselves were missing.

Secondly, jealousy is sad at the happiness of others. You realize you’re wrestling with jealousy when you cannot wholeheartedly enter into the joys and encouragements and benefits of others. When one finds oneself saying, “That should have been something that I received,” or “That is something that has been denied to me,” then what we’re really dealing with at its very root is this same issue of the overwhelming impact of jealousy. You remember that that was the problem in measure for the elder brother in Luke 15 when he came to the house, and he heard the singing and the dancing, and he said, “I’m not coming into that place. After all, I never got a party like this. I, who deserve such a thing, am not coming in to celebrate with this son of yours, who has wasted things.”[3] The spirit of the pharisee is completely unable to distinguish between waste and grace. And jealousy is sad at the happiness of others.

Oscar Wilde used to tell the story of the devil crossing the Libyan desert. (Only Wilde would come up with a story like this.) But he came to a place—the devil did—where a number of small fiends were tormenting a holy hermit, and the holy man was able to shake off their evil suggestions one after another. The devil watched the failure of the fiends for a little while, and then he stepped forward to give them a lesson. He said to them, “What you’re trying is far too crude. Watch this.” And he stepped forward, and he whispered in the ear of the holy man, “Your brother has just been made bishop of Alexandria.” And a scowl of malignant jealousy at once clouded the serene face of the holy hermit. “That,” said the devil to his fiends, “is the kind of thing I should recommend.”[4]

You realize you’re wrestling with jealousy when you cannot wholeheartedly enter into the joys and encouragements and benefits of others.

Now, let’s just be honest: We find it a lot easier to pass on the news of people’s failures and disappointments than to pass on the news of their usefulness, their encouragement, and their exaltation. And the reason is that jealousy is sad at the happiness of others.

Thirdly, jealousy makes us hostile towards those who have never harmed us—makes us hostile to those who have never harmed us. Genesis 37: “When [the] brothers saw that their father loved [Joseph] more than all his brothers, they hated him and could not speak peacefully to him.”[5] Now, we’re not here to comment on the wisdom or otherwise of Jacob and the coat of many colors, but the fact is, Joseph was on the receiving end of that, and it was enough to stimulate the hatred on the part of his brothers. And, of course, we know how the story ensues, and it is really quite remarkable, isn’t it, that you can go to that level?

You have the same thing when the brothers of David are there on the battlefield, and David is sent down, remember, with the bread and the cheese. He shows up on the battlefield, and Eliab, the oldest brother, says to him, “Why have you come down? … I know your presumption and the evil of your heart, for you have come down to see the battle.”[6] Now, there’s a bit missing in the Bible, as far as I’m concerned. David should have said, “What battle?” ’Cause there wasn’t a battle! They were just standing there every morning. And Eliab knew that they were standing there every morning. And the Philistine, Goliath of Gath, “with hith helmet of brath,” was standing there every morning. And it is the jealousy in Eliab’s heart that allows him to speak about the presumption and the evil in the heart of David. It makes him feel much better about himself if he can call in question the motives of his younger brother, who has come among the ranks, asking the questions that should be asked and finally taking the action that needs to be taken. He couldn’t stand it. Jealousy can’t stand it. It makes us hostile.

Fourthly, it is cruel. It’s cruel—“cruel as the grave”[7]—and may seek to bring about the ruin of the one envied. It’s the beginning of the Bible, isn’t it? Genesis 4:8: “Cain rose up against his brother … and killed him.” Killed him! Why? Jealousy! Have you ever killed someone with a word? Have you ever thrust the spear of your jealous heart and your vicious tongue into the back of a friend or a neighbor or a loved one or a church member or a pastoral colleague?

Fifthly and finally, under characteristics—and we could go on for a long time, but this is about as demanding as I feel free to make it upon myself—fifthly, jealousy fails to recognize that God knows what he’s doing in apportioning gifts. Jealousy fails to recognize that God knows what he’s doing in apportioning gifts. First Corinthians 4:7: “Who makes you different from anybody else? And what do you have that you did not receive? So if you received it, why do you glory as if you had not received it?”[8] Or why are you jealous of somebody who did receive it?

I always smile when I see the orchestra, and I wonder what it is like to play the piccolo or something when you’re looking across at one of the fellows playing one of those gigantic euphoniums or the double bass. How do you feel as a piccolo player, looking over there? I would think you feel like “Well, I’ve only got a few things on this little thing here. Why couldn’t I have a big thing like that, that everybody would notice me?” And then you go on the first European tour, and you’re just showing up for the coach to the airport. You put your piccolo in there, and you see the fellow coming with the big thing. Be careful who you envy! You may become a euphonium player if you’re not careful.

The Consequences of Jealousy

Let’s go to the consequences. Consequences. I have a number of these as well.

Number one: Jealousy rots your bones. I didn’t make that up; it actually says it in the Bible. Proverbs 14:30: “A tranquil heart gives life to the flesh, but envy makes the bones rot.” That’s a graphic picture, isn’t it? A picture of decay, a picture of something that is taking place on the inside and not immediately apparent on the outside—the rotting of the bones. Bone cancer is not immediately obvious. It comes by way of a blood test first of all, and then the ravaging impact of it becomes apparent to the person who has been so diagnosed. And, says Solomon, this is what happens when jealousy takes hold of a life: It eventually rots your bones.

Secondly, it gives birth to unwarranted anger and suspicion. Unwarranted anger and suspicion. When David, you remember, returned from battle dancing his way into the city, making, as his wife and his father-in-law determined, a fool of himself, it incurred the jealousy and the suspicion and the anger of Saul.[9] The problem was, again, that the word had got out on the street that Saul had slain his thousands—which is pretty good by any reckoning, if you’re a battle warrior—but the trouble was that David had apparently slain his tens of thousands. And this is where the problem comes, you see. It’s not enough to say that “I have x.” The problem is “I have x, but you have y.” And if I can’t live with the fact that you have y, then my x means pretty little to me at all.

And 1 Samuel [18]:9 says, in a pithy little statement, “And Saul eyed David from that day on.” “And Saul eyed David from that day on.” He was the object of suspicion. He was the object of anger. He was the object of incrimination. Why? Because jealousy, unaddressed, gives birth to unwarranted suspicion and to anger.

Thirdly, it breeds a destructively critical spirit. A destructively critical spirit. Daniel, remember, is described as the one who was distinguished above all. When the political structures were being put in place, Daniel was exemplary, and he stood out above the rest. And we read, “And his colleagues sought to find ground for a complaint against him.”[10] They immediately sought for ground for a complaint against him: “We’re not going to have this fellow as the prime minister in this place. We’re not going to have him transcendent over us. There is no reason why he should have that position and I should not have that position.” And it became, then, the focus of their agenda to make sure they could find a way to topple him from his perch. And at root was the problem of jealousy.

So it ruptured bones, gives birth to unwarranted suspicion, it breeds a destructively critical spirit, and, fourthly, it ruins your spiritual appetite. It ruins your spiritual appetite. There are a number of ways that you can destroy the impact of the Bible as you sit there day by day, Sunday by Sunday, taking notes in your class and going on. There are a number of ways to do it. One is with a dirty mind. You read of this in 1 Peter. If you’ve got a dirty mind and you fill it with garbage, don’t kid yourself that you are actually taking in, benefiting from, and living by the instruction of the Word of God. And the other is a jealous heart. A jealous heart. “Put away”—1 Peter 2:1—“put away all malice … deceit … hypocrisy … envy and … slander.” Here we are at the respectable sins of evangelicalism. Here are the things that are tolerated in our fellowships. Here are the things that we are tempted to skip over and excuse in ourselves routinely, because somehow or another, nobody can see that my bones are rotting. Nobody has been able to detect yet that I am driven by suspicion and by anger and just by animosity. It will come out in the end! Those closest to us will be aware of it. Our children will detect it. Our children know. Oh, yes, they know!

I say this to my shame, but to make the point as it occurs to me: Sometimes when I’m driving in my car, I have reason to point out that not everyone is as good a driver as I am—that they’re not driving at the speed that I would like and taking the behavior that would be necessary. And sometimes I have had occasion just every so often to, you know, mention it within the precincts of the cabin of the car. And I remember on one occasion launching off with a brief diatribe concerning somebody’s incompetence, and as I drew the address to a close, there was a silence, and then my son’s voice from the back of the car said, “And that’s another kind word from your pastor.” That’s why a minister needs a wife, if for no other reason than to keep him humble, and a few children to help in the process of his sanctification.

Finally, under consequences, jealousy is the forerunner to all kinds of chaos. It is the forerunner to all kinds of chaos. James chapter 3: “For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every [evil] practice.”[11]

So, you go into a context where you find chaos, you find disorder, you find evil being tolerated, you’re tripping over lumps on the carpet that should have been dealt with a long time ago, issues that have now become prevalent, perhaps embedded, in the culture of an institution, of a church, of a family, of a group of friends—if you trace it back, there’s a more than even chance that we will get right back to this self-same ugly jealousy.

The Cure for Jealousy

Now, what about the cure for this, thirdly and finally? When we were children in Scotland and we learned a lot of songs… I think they came across the Atlantic to us. I’d like to blame some of them on you, but also, we’re thankful for many. But did you ever sing this little song as children in Sunday school, “Root Them Out, Get Them Gone”? No? So, I can’t blame it on you. But this is how it goes. I won’t sing it for you, but I can quote it for you: “Root them out, get them gone, all the little rabbits in the fields of corn.” It’s completely politically incorrect now. You couldn’t lay this charge on rabbits. But anyway:

Root them out, get them gone,
All the little rabbits in the fields of corn;
Envy, jealousy, malice, and pride,
They must never in your heart abide.

And I can still remember: We were taught that at that point, it was okay to have physical gestures, and you could shake your head side to side: “They must never in your heart abide.” I’m sixty years old. I sing it to myself in my car: “Hey, Alistair, look at yourself in the mirror. Root them out, get them gone.”

How? Number one: Recognize jealousy for what it is. It is sin. It is sin. “For where there is jealousy and strife,” says Paul in 1 Corinthians 3, “aren’t you behaving only in a human way?”[12] In other words, this is totally incongruous. It’s not impossible, but it is incongruous. We have to remind ourselves that we have been transferred, as we were thinking last evening in part, from the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of light.[13] “We … were once foolish, [and] disobedient, … passing our days”—says Paul to Titus—“passing our days in malice and envy.”[14] But the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation and teaching us to say no.[15] Teaching us to say no.

The key is, essentially—to success in diet—is what you say no to and what you say yes to. And if you get it the wrong way round, you’re in trouble. And the same is true in the Christian experience. It is not simply a series of affirmations on the strength of the grace of God, but “the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation”[16] and, as the NIV puts it—I’m quoting now—“teach[ing] us to say ‘No’ to [all] ungodliness,”[17] so that when sin, which is crouching at the door, desiring to master me,[18] appears, then I must deal with it as it is. I don’t fall into fiddling around with it psychologically and blaming it on the influence of people around me, and “They shouldn’t have said that,” and “They shouldn’t have done that.” All of that may be true or may not be true, but the biggest problem that I have is the problem of my own sinful heart.

So, number one: Recognize what it is. Number two: Bring it into the light of God’s presence. Bring it into the light of God’s presence. In other words, the last thing that we want to do is the first thing we need to do. Private sin and secret sin should be dealt with in a private and in a secret way. Public sin, especially within the context of the church, is to be dealt with publicly.

So, let’s say, for example, that I had been particularly jealous in a public environment where I had said something that was clearly unkind or unhelpful; I’d done it before the people having gathered in the assembly. Then I would be duty-bound to go back into that context and say, “We were all together the other day, and what I said about my brother was—it may have been true, but it certainly wasn’t helpful, and it wasn’t kind, and I apologize.” That’s fair enough. But if every time I had a jealous thought I had to go in front of the congregation—goodness, we’d have to have services, you know, like about seven days a week and for at least twelve hours a day, if we were all bringing our secret and private sins up before everybody else.

The biggest problem that I have is the problem of my own sinful heart.

And there is a kind of perversity that people like to bring to the issue of the pastor, I’ve noticed, in relationship to private sins. What is it that motivates somebody to come up to me and tell me that for the last seven years, they’ve hated me? Are they actually telling me that so that I will feel much better about the fact that they’ve acknowledged it, or is it because that it’s just a wonderful opportunity for them to confess it right into my life? Or ‘I want you to know, Pastor, that I’ve been jealous of you for such and such a time”—or, worse still, ladies that come to you and explain that they’ve had these dreadfully devious thoughts. Secret sins are to be dealt with secretly. We can even be so perverse that our attempt at confession is nothing other than an advance of the same problem.

Recognize it for what it is, bring it into the light of God’s presence, and, thirdly, and finally, put the rejection of it into practice moment by moment. Put the rejection of it into practice moment by moment—in light of our union with Christ. It is because we are united with Christ that the chains of sin has broken. “Be of sin the double cure; cleanse me from its guilt and [its] power”[19]—that I have been saved from the penalty of sin, I one day will be saved from the presence of sin, but I am today being saved from the power of sin.

And we face this all the time. For some of us, there are areas of weakness that are known to us and known to God, and we need to bring these things back to the place where we have been focused throughout this entire time—back to what is true of us in Christ, back to what is true concerning the cross, so that we might “put to death therefore”[20]—Colossians 3—“put to death therefore” whatever… And you have that transformation of the wardrobe. “It is incongruous for you to be wearing these clothes,” he says at the beginning of Colossians 3, “because that’s the wardrobe that you used to have before you were raised with Christ into the heavenly places. You don’t want to go out looking like that, half-dressed in that way and half-dressed in this way. Put to death, therefore…”[21] And right at the beginning of it all: covetousness, a cousin of jealousy.

And when we are putting sin to death in this way, it is important that we do so immediately, ruthlessly, and consistently. Immediately, ruthlessly, and consistently. There is no time like the present. This is not something to be toyed with, in light of its characteristics and its consequences. And this is not a victory that we will finally mark in our journal and move on from. We will face it as long as there are people around us who do better than us, who drive the ball further than us, who preach better than we do, who are taller, smarter, fitter, thinner—whatever you want.

God made you exactly as he planned. Your DNA is not a happenstance. You are you because you are the you that he intended to make. And “godliness with contentment is great gain.”[22] Contented. That doesn’t mean lethargic and unambitious. It means contented—happy in my own funny skin, in my own funny, redeemed little body. Do you know how hard it is to stand next to all these big, tall Americans? I’ve been out at meals with them. Some of them have muscles in places that I don’t even have places. And I have had to nip it in the bud. I can’t look across at someone’s biceps and say, “Why can’t I have those?” Well, I can tell you why: There’s a way you get them, and you’re not prepared to do one thing about it. It’s your own stupid fault.

Beware the sideways glance. Keep your eyes on the prize, looking to Jesus, the author, the finisher of our faith.

Let me finish in this way: The little I know about the acting world—and that is a little—reveals a backstage world that is different from what you see when the actors and actresses appear. On the stage, they read their lines. On the stage, they play their parts. It may be a love story. It may be the bond of human friendship. It may be all kinds of things. But backstage, actors are peculiarly prone to insecurity, to fear, and to jealousy.[23] I’ve been around church now since I was a small boy. I’ve been, as it were, frontstage and backstage, if you’ll allow me the metaphor. I’m here to tell you that the self-same insecurities and jealousies that are pervasive in the acting world are sadly alive and well in the context of the Christian world. Brothers and sisters, these things ought not to be.

The directive of Jesus to Peter at the very beginning of things was a straightforward one, wasn’t it? “Peter, follow me.”[24] You go all the way through the story of the gospel, through to Peter’s restoration, breakfast meeting: “Do you love me?” “Totally love you. Love you. Love you.” Three times! And then Peter saw the disciple whom Jesus loved. And do you remember what he said? “Lord, what about him?” And Jesus said, “What is that to you, Peter? I told you: Follow me.”[25]

Beware the sideways glance. Keep your eyes on the prize, looking to Jesus, the author, the finisher of our faith.[26] Keep that glorious picture before us, shall we, of last evening—that crowd of people there. How that blessed me last night! Because I woke this morning, November 1—it’s All Saints Day. It’s a very important day to me. Because I was, forty years ago, where some of you are: in my first semester in a place just like this. The first of November 1972 was a Thursday. I could never forget. Because the man who filled the role of Dr. Mohler in that place came in the early morning and knocked on my bedroom door. I said, “Could he really have discovered how bad a student I am in such a short period of time? And wouldn’t he send at least one of his underlings if they were going to remove me in the early hours of the morning?” But nothing could prepare me for the fact that he took my desk chair and turned it around and said, “Last night, your mother died of a massive heart attack.”

Listen: There’s only one life. There’s only one opportunity for us. We will not pass this way again. Let us resolve, by God’s help, through God’s grace, to keep short accounts with sin, planning as if we will live for another hundred years and learning to live dyingly in the awareness of the fact that one day, we will say goodbye for the final time.

Let us pray:

O God our Father, we thank you for your Word. What is true and helpful and necessary write in our hearts, and let us leave behind anything that is unhelpful. For we pray in Christ’s name. Amen.

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[1] Jerry Bridges, Respectable Sins (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2007), 145–53.

[2] Hebrews 13:1, 4, 7 (paraphrased).

[3] Luke 15:28–30 (paraphrased).

[4] Arthur Conan Doyle, Memories and Adventures (Boston: Little, Brown, 1924), 73. Paraphrased.

[5] Genesis 37:4 (ESV).

[6] 1 Samuel 17:28 (ESV).

[7] Song of Solomon 8:6 (KJV).

[8] 1 Corinthians 4:7 (paraphrased).

[9] See 1 Samuel 18:6–9; 2 Samuel 6:16.

[10] Daniel 6:4 (paraphrased).

[11] James 3:16 (ESV).

[12] 1 Corinthians 3:3 (paraphrased).

[13] See Colossians 1:13.

[14] Titus 3:3 (ESV).

[15] See Titus 2:11–12.

[16] Titus 2:11 (ESV).

[17] Titus 2:12 (NIV).

[18] See Genesis 4:7.

[19] Augustus Montague Toplady, “Rock of Ages” (1776).

[20] Colossians 3:5 (ESV).

[21] Colossians 3:1–5 (paraphrased).

[22] 1 Timothy 6:6 (ESV).

[23] Henri J. M. Nouwen, Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life (New York: Doubleday, 1975), 49–50.

[24] Matthew 4:19; Mark 1:17 (paraphrased).

[25] John 21:15–17, 20–22 (paraphrased).

[26] See Hebrews 12:2.