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Introduction
The English poet John Donne (1572–1631) noted that there’s a snake in every path and unique temptation in every line of work.[1] In my judgment, one of the many snakes and temptations in the work of pastoral ministry is envy. I know because the snake of envy wrapped its python-like grip around my heart for a season.

  • I envied pastors of larger churches.
  • I envied pastors of growing churches.
  • I envied pastors leading “easier” churches (whatever that means).
  • I envied celebrity pastors.
  • I envied pastors with better credentials.

In short, I envied pastors who had what I wanted and what I thought I deserved.

If you’re repulsed by a pastor harboring such thoughts, I get it. I am too. But if you’ll tame your inner revulsion and keep reading, I’d like to share with you how God freed (and continues to free) me from this disease of the soul. While envy might not be your besetting sin, I believe what you’ll read below is transferable to waging war against any vice.

Before proceeding, however, let’s get clear on what envy is and is not.

How Envy Differs from Covetousness and Pride
Historically Christians have distinguished envy from both covetousness and jealousy and connected it to both pride and vainglory.[2] Here’s why:

While both envy and covetousness involve craving something that one does not possess, covetousness centers on earthly possessions, while envy fixates on personal qualities.

For example, a covetous person may want a new house, but an envious person wants the admiration from others that the new house brings in its wake. Do you see the difference? It’s not the house that the envious person truly desires; it’s the praise of others.

Envy is also not jealousy. Jealousy is rooted in fear that one might lose what one possesses. Envy, however, is not rooted in fear. Envy is rooted in resentment at another’s good, which is often accompanied by self-pity—or worse, self-hatred.

How Envy Is Connected to Pride and Vainglory
With good reason, Christians in the past connected envy to pride and vainglory. Thomas Aquinas (d. 1274) rightly observed that what the envious person supremely aches for is applause louder than his or her rival. Such a longing indicates that one views life as a competition. And as C. S. Lewis taught us, “Pride is essentially competitive.”[3] Additionally, Christians in the past linked envy to vainglory because both vices reveal an unhealthy clamoring for the approval others.

As one who experienced all this in his own heart, I can see why our forefathers viewed envy as such an infirmity of soul and destroyer of community: First, it leaves the envier questing after a never-achievable goal. Temporal pleasures cannot and will not satisfy eternal longings. Secondly, it sentences the envier to a life of ingratitude, but gratitude is the fitting disposition of the creature toward his Creator for the mercies he lavishes on us each day. Thirdly, it prevents loving relationships. “Love does not envy,” Paul tells us (1 Corinthians 13:4), because love is a relational virtue that rejoices with others and seeks to honor them (Romans 12:9–16).

If this vice has a grip on your heart, what steps can you take to pry it loose, or what steps might you take to wage war on your besetting sin?

Pray specific prayers. This will sound unspiritual, but here’s a key lesson we need to learn: Prayer requires organization. And when waging war against any sin, we would do well to pray specific prayers with regularity. Yes, I pleaded with God to remove envy from my heart, but I also regularly prayed the following prayer by François Fénelon (1651–1715):

Dear God, give me the grace to be faithful in my actions, but indifferent to success. The only thing I ought to be concerned with is your will and to quietly meditate on you—even in the midst of busy times. It is up to you to crown my feeble efforts with such fruit as is pleasing to you—and none at all, if that is what you find best for me.[4]

Read specific books. Prioritize books that detail the ugliness of envy and the beauty of humility and contentment. John Dickson’s Humilitas: A Lost Key to Life, Love, and Leadership helped me by setting forth the attractiveness of humility and showcasing how it’s fostered and flourishes in relationships. I followed this up by adding Gavin Ortlund’s deceptively simple book Humility: The Joy of Self-Forgetfulness, to my morning Bible reading. Limiting myself to five pages a day allowed me to digest the material slowly. Lastly, I worked through the Puritan Jeremiah Burroughs’s (1600–1646) The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment. As with all Puritan literature, this volume is jam-packed with Scripture and overflowing with insightful application. Taken together, these books were medicine to my soul.

Connect with specific people. Deep, trusting connection with other people in an environment of acceptance and appreciation will contribute immensely to expelling the idol of envy (and other vices) from our hearts. We need to spend time around people who know us. We need the support of people who are not impressed by us. We need people who cheer us on. And when we fail, we need the company of those who remain by our side and process these disappointments with us.

These three practices did not lead to a specific moment where I sensed the tentacles of envy loosen their grip on me. It was more gradual. I simply noticed that I was less envious. I no longer desired another pastor’s life or congregation. I felt content. In fact, I started praying for the pastors I envied and thanked God for their gifts.

Conclusion
The saddest part of envy is missing out on the entire point of life: Pointing people to Jesus. Like John the Baptist, this is what completes our joy (John 3:29). But that kind of self-forgetful joy is impossible when we’re envious because we can’t focus on others when our eyes are constantly on ourselves.

Whatever sin is weighing us down, let’s make it an urgent matter of prayer. Let’s fill our minds with truth. Let’s live in community.

Take it from a recovering envier, it’s the path to freedom.

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[1] John Donne, Devotions upon Emergent Occasions and Death’s Duel (New York: Vintage, 1999), 5.

[2] In what follows, I am indebted to Rebecca Konyndyk DeYoung, Glittering Vices: A New Look at the Seven Deadly Sins and Their Remedies (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos, 2009), 43–57.

[3] C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: HarperCollins, 1952), 122.

[4] François Fénelon, “One Thing Is Needful,” in The Complete Fènelon, trans. and ed. Robert J. Edmonson, CJ, & Hal M. Helms (Brewster, MA: Paraclete Press, 2018), 175.