Pride Is the Bait on All Sorts of Hooks

I still remember a letter I received some years ago now. I was being invited to shell out $35 for a volume entitled, The World Book of Shelburnes.

According to the letter, “extensive work has been done throughout the world on a project relating to the distinguished Shelburne name.” This work will focus on Shelburnes “who immigrated to the New World between the 16th and early 20th centuries.”

Wow! That made me feel privileged. Absolutely unique. One of a kind. Wonder why they sent the letter bulk rate?

I read on.

“The first Shelburne we found came to Charles Town, South Carolina, in 1767. Her name was Margaret.” Hmm.

“Shelburne” is plastered all over the letter. Twenty times in one page. Coupled more than once with the adjective “distinguished.”

Makes me wonder why they wrote in bold print on the order form: No direct genealogical connection to your family or to your ancestry is implied or intended. So they could just as easily have peddled The World Book of Shelburnes to Joneses, Smiths, or McGrady’s?

I hadn’t read a full paragraph into the letter before I recognized that old “The circus is in town! Hang on to your wallet!” feeling.

Pardon me, but I’m pretty sure peddlers who pitch to our pride speak with forked tongues.

It happened in Eden, remember? The combination of a smooth-talking serpent, Adam & Eve’s abysmal lack of sales resistance, and an unvarnished appeal to sinful pride (“Eat this, and you’ll be like God!”) brought cockleburs to Paradise.

I’m happy to wear the Shelburne name. And I think I could point you to a few other wearers of the monicker who’ve done it some honor.

But I’m also quite sure a little real research would turn up a horse thief or two. And I suspect the primary finding of such research would be that Shelburnes are people just like everybody else.

You can extend that truth, if you wish. I’m very proud to be an American, a Texan, a citizen of Muleshoe, but I’m not such a mule that I’m blind to weaknesses or unaware that some other fine nations, states, and cities exist.

And, if I read my Bible correctly, there is, for those who wear the name of Christ, a great deal of room for confidence in Christ and his cross, but no room at all for arrogance regarding MY group, MY sect, MY tradition, or MY righteousness. When Christ died for us all, even the most unworthy, the Father plugged forever the last rat-hole open to human pride.

Whenever you suspect a peddler on your porch, at a political rally, in a pulpit, or using a bulk mail permit is baiting you with pride, watch out! Some unscrupulous angler is getting ready to set the hook and reel you in.







Copyright 2011 by Curtis K. Shelburne. Permission to copy without altering text or for monetary gain is hereby granted subject to inclusion of this copyright notice.