When Self Becomes The Center

Many children have grown up hearing messages like, “You deserve whatever you want,” “Never deny yourself,” “Your truth is what matters most,” without ever being taught purpose, restraint, responsibility, or submission to anything greater than themselves. When the self becomes supreme, limits feel like oppression. Correction feels like hatred. And denial feels like injustice.  Scripture warned us of this long ago: “In the last days people will be lovers of self… lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God” (2 Timothy 3:2–4).  

This way of thinking produces something dangerous. When a person is taught that their desires are ultimate, but never given a stable identity, the result is not confidence — it is fragility.  Without God, identity has no anchor. And without an anchor, desire becomes demand. When demands are not met, frustration turns into anger, and anger often turns into violence. Much of what we are seeing today is not random evil; it is self-centered identity colliding with a world that refuses to revolve around it.  

God never created human beings to be the center — He created them to be stewards within His creation. From the beginning, humanity was given purpose, direction, and boundaries.  Adam was placed in the garden “to work it and keep it” (Genesis 2:15). His life had meaning because it had responsibility. When responsibility is removed, indulgence fills the void.  

The gospel directly confronts this self-centered narrative. Jesus did not say, “Find yourself.  ” He said, “Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Me” (Luke 9:23). That statement is not harsh — it is liberating. Self-denial is not self-hatred; it is freedom from the tyranny of unchecked desire. When the self is no longer the master, peace becomes possible.  

When God is removed from the center of a person’s life, something else must take His place.  And what usually fills that space is pleasure, consumption, self-affirmation, and control. Paul describes this clearly: “Their god is their stomach… their mind is set on earthly things” (Philippians 3:19). Self-indulgence is not a moral failure alone; it is a worship problem. Everyone worships something. When God is rejected, the self becomes the altar.  

This is why we are seeing such a profound lack of identity. People are not rooted in who God says they are; they are constantly chasing who they feel like being in the moment. But feelings are unstable foundations. Without God, there is no fixed reference point for truth, meaning, or worth. The result is a constant need for stimulation, validation, and escape. Self-indulgence becomes the only remaining way to feel alive.  

There is a hard truth we rarely want to acknowledge: when this level of self-centeredness is not addressed early in life, it becomes extraordinarily difficult to confront later. In most cases, if the formation of identity, restraint, and responsibility is not shaped within the first six to eight years — depending on personality and temperament — the self becomes deeply entrenched. By that point, selfishness is no longer just a tendency; it becomes a governing force.  

This is not because people are beyond hope, but because the self has learned to rule unchecked. Without loving, God-centered correction early on, desire is never taught to yield.  Scripture makes this clear: “Folly is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod of discipline drives it far from him” (Proverbs 22:15). That discipline is not cruelty — it is direction. When it is absent, the self fills the vacuum.  

The reality is that selfishness is in all of us. We are not taught it; we are born with it. Scripture says we are “by nature children of wrath” (Ephesians 2:3). That nature will express itself one way or another. Either it is shaped by God-honoring parents, structure, and truth — or it is left to form itself. And when it forms itself, it always moves toward entitlement, indulgence, and control.  

This is why, later in life, the self is rarely surrendered without some form of crisis. When selfishness has gone unchecked for decades, it is usually only broken by a major collision with reality — failure, loss, addiction, collapse, or rock bottom. For many, it is only there that a person finally encounters the Lord, not because God desired the pain, but because the self would not release control any other way. As Scripture says, “Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I keep Your word” (Psalm 119:67).  

God’s design was never for identity to be forged through destruction. It was meant to be formed through loving authority, truth, and direction early on. When that does not happen, the self becomes harder, louder, and more demanding over time — until life itself forces the confrontation that discipline once could have provided.  

This is not condemnation. It is clarity. And it explains why the problem we are seeing is so widespread, so violent, and so resistant to correction. What is not shaped early must eventually be broken — unless it is surrendered to Christ, who alone has the authority to deal with the self at its root.  

Violence, addiction, sexual chaos, and rage are not separate issues — they are symptoms of the same disease: a generation raised without the understanding that life is not only about them. When a person believes they are the world, rather than part of God’s world, they feel justified in taking whatever they want from it at whoever's expense. Scripture warns us where this leads: “Everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (Judges 21:25). That is not freedom — it is societal collapse.  

True identity is found only when the self is properly placed. The gospel does not erase individuality; it puts into proper order. When a person knows they are created by God, accountable to God, and loved by God, they no longer need to indulge every desire to feel significant. They discover purpose beyond pleasure. Meaning beyond appetite. Life beyond self.  

Jesus modeled this perfectly. He did not live to gratify Himself, but to do the will of the Father (John 6:38). And because of that, His life carried authority, clarity, and peace.  “Whoever loses his life for My sake will find it” (Matthew 16:25). That is the great paradox of the Kingdom: surrender leads to wholeness.  

The solution to the chaos we see is not more indulgence, more affirmation, or more autonomy. It is identity restored under God. When people understand they are not the center — but they are deeply valued by the One who is — self-indulgence loses its grip. Responsibility returns.  Restraint becomes wisdom. And life begins to make sense again.  

We were never meant to be the world. We were meant to serve within it. And until that truth is restored, indulgence will continue to masquerade as freedom — while quietly destroying those who believe it.