Far too frequently our own. Some examples:
- Over-the-top chest-thumping of professional athletes who make a great or even just an average play
- Political candidate videos. Did you see either Obama’s or McCain’s? I thought they were going to say they were the savior of the world. McCain’s video concluded with a phrase, “and the stars are aligned.” Unbelievable. Sure, he didn’t say it, some voiceover said it. But you can be sure that the candidates approved the message.
- White lies. Okay, it’s not just the rich and famous who seek their own glory. We all do. Notice how we present ourselves when someone somewhere might think we did a poor job. Excuses? Blameshifting? One of my son’s stole a toy from another child. He was caught. After being caught he was looking for ways to make it sound less like stealing and more like an oversight. He was seeking to salvage his glory. Or worse, what happens when someone thinks we did great but we know that isn’t the whole story. Do we fail to tell the truth so they see our flaws (I’m not talking about those who refuse to accept credit where credit is due)?
On Sunday morning I was singing about God’s glory. Later in the day the Monroe boys were off for a bike ride. We visited a local park and found a group of kids playing tackle football. Against better judgment I agreed to play as quarterback. When our team scored I was the loudest cheerleader. After one such score I got to thinking about this: what is the difference between legitimate celebration and self-seeking glory? When does celebration turn into rubbing the other team’s face in it? FYI, I think we were just fine and I took great pleasure in watching the kids on the other team rejoice over blowing past my lame efforts to stop their touchdown run.
But I think it wise for us to self-examine here about our glory interests:
1. How do we feel when someone else sees our sins? Do we get defensive? Depressed? Anxious? Thankful that in our weaknesses, God is glorified?
2. How do we feel when someone gives credit due us to someone else?
Musings on Faith and Psychology 
One of the most convicting sermons I remember was a pastor reviewing his previous week’s sermon. (I was traveling, not my home church, so I wasn’t sure what he had said the previous Sunday.) He had apparently been talking about (maybe) dealing with loss or crushed hopes, perhaps. When he was younger, his team had made it to the State finals, where they had lost.
But when he got home, his wife asked, “You had to tell them that you made it all the way to the State finals, didn’t you?” He realized then that even speaking of a loss, he had wanted to make sure the congregation knew it was the State finals: they were *that* good in those days.
The sermon convicted me of seeking my own glory, warning me of the subtlety of pride. (Mind you, it even affects the editing and revision of my blog comments before posting: I’m not safe anywhere, my heart follows me around.)