I should’ve seen it coming. I opened my computer to pull up the dinner recipe I was following, oblivious to the danger ahead. As I scrolled down to find the instructions, my eyes took in photos of a beautiful kitchen, a beautiful cook, and beautiful cuisine. With quick steps, my mind traveled a familiar trail: Her home is more beautiful than mine. She’s younger than me, prettier than me, and cooks better than me. She is better than me.
Just like that, the trap snapped and comparison caught me again.
The Trap of Comparison
Every trap entices with bait of some kind. What bait does comparison offer that draws us in so easily? The answer lies in the conclusion at the end of the trail: She is better than me. Because comparison promises a means to measure our self-worth, we eagerly follow its breadcrumbs, hoping they will lead to the elusive certainty that we are enough; that we’re as good as (or better than) others; that when the votes come in, we’ll receive a five-star rating.
Not all comparison is sinful. Wrong comparison, however, uses other people to determine our own worth, marking the lines of our successes or failures by the yardstick of what others have or do or choose. And we women seem to do this all the time. We compare ourselves: our beauty, bodies, and abilities. We compare our possessions: our homes, clothes, and kids. We compare our circumstances: our prosperity, problems, and pain. We compare our choices: our vocations, education, or vacations. You name it, we can compare it.
While we may be good at comparison, wrong comparison does us no good. We walk into the trap, expecting the long-sought rest of a heart that knows its worth. But once inside, we’re plagued by the raucous noise of envy, covetousness, ingratitude, discontent, rebellion, and pride. We all know what this feels like. One moment, all is well with the world. The next moment, a friend’s new purchase or social media post has us all churned up inside. Love is replaced with competition. Rejoicing with jealousy. Gratitude with grumbling. Restfulness with rebellion. Or if comparison rules in our favor, suddenly we’re arrogant and self-satisfied (though still deeply insecure). When our hearts reach for worth apart from Christ, we grasp only the destructive whirlwind of our own worldly efforts.
Comparison Without Understanding
The restless racket of comparison reverberates from the voice of pride. Our hunger for worth makes us glory-seekers. As philosophy professor Rebecca Konyndyk DeYoung points out, we are “turned inward, praising ourselves or seeking our own praise” (Glittering Vices, 60). We are creatures, but we usurp our Creator with our “self-made means of affirmation. . . . We would rather create and manage our own image than try to live up to being image-bearers of God” (58).
With our sinful comparisons, we imitate the misguided people Paul describes in 2 Corinthians 10:12: “When they measure themselves by one another and compare themselves with one another, they are without understanding.” The Bible provides many examples of such comparison without understanding. Cain’s comparison provoked him to murder Abel (Genesis 4:4–8). The Israelites considered themselves grasshoppers compared to Nephilim and rebelled (Numbers 13:33; 14:4). The psalmist compared himself to the arrogant, and his steps “nearly slipped” (Psalm 73:2–3). The older son compared himself to his prodigal brother and angrily refused to join the rejoicing (Luke 15:25–30). And Peter, after learning what “follow me” might cost him, pointed to his fellow disciple and asked Jesus, “What about this man?” (John 21:19–21).
Comparison without understanding has always resulted in envy, rebellion, discontent, and doubt.
Wise Comparison
In place of sinful comparison, God calls us to wise comparison — comparison with understanding. Wise comparison considers God’s word on worth and yields gratitude, praise, and rest. It leads us to worship the incomparable God rather than ourselves.
How might we grow in wise comparison? We can ask ourselves if in our comparison we consider what God reveals about himself, about us, and about salvation.
First, wise comparison considers God. No one compares to him, as Isaiah declares: “To whom will you liken God, or what likeness compare with him?” (Isaiah 40:18). He reigns over all the earth — nations, Nephilim, and newborns are equally grasshoppers before him (Isaiah 40:22). His great might and strong power hold the stars in place (Isaiah 40:26). People flower and fade, but his word stands forever (Isaiah 40:8). Considering God moves us to proclaim his excellencies rather than to compare ourselves with others to determine our own.
Second, wise comparison considers people from God’s perspective. The brightness of his glory reveals us for who we truly are — creatures upheld every moment by our powerful, loving Creator (Romans 11:36). In his sovereignty, he formed each of us not haphazardly or injudiciously but “fearfully and wonderfully” (Psalm 139:14). In his providence, he watches over us in such a way that all things “must work together for [our] salvation.”
A woman who considers God’s design and purpose surrenders her self-approval, and as C.S. Lewis says, “she will most innocently rejoice in the thing that God has made her to be . . . which heals her old inferiority complex forever” (The Weight of Glory, 38). Our worth does not come from Aldi or Whole Foods, Goodwill or Madewell, but from the grace of being valued and cared for by God. He esteems us above well-fed ravens and beautifully adorned lilies (Luke 12:22–31). He thinks of us even more than we think of ourselves (Psalm 40:5). Such priceless thoughts led George MacDonald to conclude, “I would rather be what God chose to make me, than the most glorious creature that I could think of. For to have been thought about — born in God’s thoughts — and then made by God, is the dearest, grandest, most precious thing in all thinking.”
Finally, wise comparison considers salvation. Our glory-seeking gives way to glory-giving when we savor our Savior. God sent his own Son to redeem us and his own Spirit to live in us, giving us a worth so high, we can’t comprehend it; so beyond our deserving, we never could earn it; and so secure, we never can lose it. Like Paul, we consider Jesus and see that he is infinitely better than whatever else we could deserve or desire (Philippians 3:7–8).
The comparison between what God saved us from and what he saved us to simultaneously humbles us and lifts our head. We were dead in our sins, but now we are alive in Christ (Ephesians 2:5). We were without hope and without God, but now we are brought near by his blood (Ephesians 2:12–13). Once strangers and foreigners, we’re now fellow citizens and saints (Ephesians 2:19). We were straying like sheep, but now we have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of our souls (1 Peter 2:25). When the trap of comparison catches and confuses us, the gospel frees us to be caught by something far greater — the glorious love of the triune God.
Free in the Gospel
God-centered comparison reminds us of our value and motivates our virtue. A woman rooted in God’s love for her in Christ, “a love not contingent upon her performance or ranking of worthiness, . . . remains free to look at herself with honest humility and desire to be better” (Glittering Vices, 84).
By securing our worth in Jesus, the gospel frees us to become more like Jesus in our everyday lives. Our differences in spiritual growth spur us on toward greater holiness (Philippians 3:17). Our common calling teaches us to be humble (Ephesians 4:2). Communion replaces competition as we stir one another up in love (Hebrews 10:24). By repentance and faith, we confess that we are not yet what we will be, and trust that God will make us what he intends — saints who glorify him by enjoying him forever. What could compare with that?
Desiring God