The Deification of the Self and the Collapse of Moral Order

(Image: The Tower of Babel, Pieter Bruegel the Elder)

The Rev. Dr. Ronald Moore

The Southern Anglican

April 8, 2026

There is a thread running quietly beneath many of the crises we see in the modern West. It is not always named, but it is widely felt. It appears in our institutions, in our public discourse, and increasingly in our moral reasoning.

At its core, it is this: the elevation of the self to the highest authority.

We are living in an age where the individual—his desires, his perceptions, his preferences—has become the final court of appeal. What was once ordered under God, tradition, and moral law is now judged by the internal compass of the autonomous self. And when the self becomes ultimate, everything else becomes negotiable.

This shift does not always appear in obvious ways. It often presents itself clothed in the language of compassion, justice, or authenticity. But beneath the language lies a deeper question: Who has the authority to define what is good?

Increasingly, the answer given is: I do.

The Root: A Disordered Love

The problem is not that man loves himself. Scripture assumes that he does. “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12:31, NKJV). Self-love, properly understood, is not a vice but a given.

The problem arises when the order of love is reversed.

In the classical Christian tradition, love must be rightly ordered:

· God first

· then neighbor

· then self, in its proper place

When that order collapses, the self moves to the center. And once enthroned, it does not remain contained. It begins to reorder everything else around it.

This is what Augustine described as the soul curved inward upon itself—incurvatus in se. It is not merely selfishness in the trivial sense. It is a fundamental misalignment of the human person.

The Many Faces of a Single Disorder

When the self becomes the highest authority, its effects manifest in different ways.

In some cases, the result is outright moral evil. The exploitation of the vulnerable—whether through manipulation, abuse, or grooming—is rooted in the elevation of personal desire over the dignity of another human being. The logic is simple and devastating: I want, therefore I take.

In other cases, the distortion appears as hatred or superiority. Racism and antisemitism elevate identity over truth, placing one group above another in direct contradiction to the Christian understanding that all are made in the image of God. Again, the root is the same: my perception, my identity, my judgment—these are ultimate.

But not all distortions present themselves as cruelty. Some appear as compassion.

There are movements and positions in our time that, on the surface, seem motivated by kindness—care for the stranger, concern for the outsider, sympathy for those in need. These are not impulses to be dismissed. They reflect something genuinely human and, in many cases, genuinely Christian.

And yet, when compassion is severed from truth, order, and responsibility, it can become destructive.

A society cannot sustain itself if it is governed solely by sentiment. Laws exist for a reason. Boundaries exist for a reason. The common good is not an abstraction—it is the condition that allows a people to live, flourish, and endure together.

When the individual says, “My compassion overrides the structures that hold society together,” what has happened is not mercy rightly applied, but love misordered.

The Loss of a Shared Moral Framework

What we are witnessing, then, is not merely a collection of unrelated problems. It is the breakdown of a shared moral framework.

When God is no longer the reference point, there is no longer a common standard by which competing claims can be judged. Each person becomes, in effect, his own moral authority.

The result is not freedom, but fragmentation.

One group elevates compassion above all else. Another elevates order. Another elevates identity. Another elevates autonomy. And because there is no higher standard, these competing moralities cannot be reconciled—only asserted.

This is why our discourse feels increasingly unstable. It is not simply that we disagree. It is that we no longer agree on how to determine what is true.

The Collective and the Person

It would be a mistake, however, to frame this as a simple conflict between the individual and the collective.

The Christian tradition does not erase the individual in favor of the group, nor does it exalt the individual at the expense of the community. It orders both under God.

The person has dignity because he is made in the image of God. The community has purpose because it is the context in which that dignity is lived out and protected.

When the self is deified, both are damaged.

· The individual becomes isolated, burdened with the impossible task of self-definition

· The community becomes unstable, unable to sustain shared norms or long-term cohesion

What is lost is not merely balance, but meaning.

The Only Remedy

The answer is not a stronger assertion of the collective over the individual. History has shown where that leads.

The answer is the restoration of right order.

“For no other foundation can anyone lay than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 3:11, NKJV).

When Christ is the foundation:

· the self is no longer ultimate, but neither is it erased

· compassion is guided by truth

· justice is tempered with mercy

· and the common good is understood not as a competing interest, but as a shared participation in ordered life

The problem of our age is not merely political or cultural. It is theological.

We have not simply lost our way—we have lost our center.

And until that center is restored, we will continue to see the same pattern repeat itself: different issues, different language, but the same underlying disorder.

The deification of the self will always produce confusion, and confusion will always produce fracture.

Only a return to the One who orders all things can bring clarity again.

END