What would Tim Keller say to a narcissist?

If Tim Keller were counseling someone with strong narcissistic tendencies—even possibly clinical NPD—he would likely combine a deeply biblical, gospel-centered framework with a pastoral realism about sin’s power and the need for both grace and truth.

Keller often said that the gospel always speaks two words to us:

  1. You are far more sinful and flawed than you ever dared believe

  2. You are far more loved and accepted in Christ than you ever dared hope

For someone with narcissistic patterns, the challenge is that they tend to minimize the first truth and weaponize or distort the second truth. Keller would not simply affirm “you’re loved” without dismantling the self-deceptive structures that keep the person from truly seeing their sin and need.


What Keller Might Emphasize to the Narcissist

1. Expose the reality of their sin without flattery

  • Keller would press into the root idols behind narcissism:

    • Glory hunger (John 5:44 – seeking glory from men rather than God)

    • Self-justification (Luke 18 – the Pharisee and tax collector)

    • Control and self-exaltation (Genesis 3 – “You will be like God”)

  • He might say:

    “You are not just occasionally selfish—you have built your entire identity on needing others to see you as admirable. That’s not just unhealthy; it’s a deep rebellion against the God who should be the center of your story.”


2. Show how the gospel undercuts self-exaltation

  • Keller would teach that true freedom comes when your glory is borrowed from Christ, not stolen from others.

  • The gospel says:

    • You cannot justify yourself by being impressive—Christ has done the justifying work.

    • Your worth is received, not achieved.

    • Christ’s love frees you from the exhausting performance treadmill.

He might phrase it:

“The gospel is not a mirror you look into to admire yourself—it’s a window through which you see Christ’s glory, and in losing yourself in Him, you actually find yourself.”


3. Address shame as the hidden engine

Keller understood that many narcissistic behaviors are an armor against shame.

  • He would likely say:

    “Your drive to be admired comes from a deep fear that, if people saw the real you, they would turn away. The gospel says that God does see the real you—and He runs toward you in Christ. That’s the only safe love that will ever let you stop pretending.”


4. Call for repentance that is relational, not just behavioral

For a narcissist, repentance isn’t merely admitting fault—it’s renouncing the idol of self-glory and turning toward the living God.

  • Keller would stress deep repentance (turning from not just bad deeds but the good things you’ve made ultimate).

  • He might counsel a process of:

    1. Naming specific ways they have used people for self-image.

    2. Confessing not just actions but motives.

    3. Actively seeking to serve without recognition as spiritual training.


5. Slow discipleship with accountability

Because narcissistic patterns are deeply ingrained, Keller would not expect quick change.

  • He would emphasize church community as the arena for sanctification, where mutual submission, correction, and humility are practiced.

  • He might urge them to place themselves under authority and receive honest feedback.


What the Gospel Says to the Narcissist

In a nutshell, Keller’s pastoral gospel word might be:

“You are not the hero of the story—Jesus is. That’s far better news than if you were. You are more sinful, selfish, and image-obsessed than you dare admit, but in Christ you are more loved, secure, and free than you ever dreamed. You no longer have to build your own glory, because you’ve been given His.”


Here is an application of this pastoral advice in an imagined counseling session.

Session 1

Setting: A small office in Redeemer’s counseling rooms. Books line the walls, light filters in through a window. Tim Keller sits with a Bible open on the table.
The counselee, Melissa, 38, is sharp, stylish, articulate — and here under the urging of her sister.


MELISSA: [arms folded] I just don’t get why everyone keeps throwing this “narcissist” thing at me. If I were really as selfish as they say, why would I work so hard? Why would I push for excellence in my career, my family, my church ministry? If anything, I’m the one holding things together while everyone else… drifts.

KELLER: You do carry a lot. I can hear you feel both misunderstood and… indispensable.

MELISSA: Exactly. And honestly, Pastor Tim, isn’t it biblical to strive? Paul talks about running the race, doing everything for the glory of God. That’s all I’m doing.

KELLER: That’s a fair appeal. But can I ask—when you don’t get recognition for those efforts, what happens inside you?

MELISSA: [hesitates] I mean… it hurts. Because it’s not fair. I’m pouring myself out. It’s demoralizing when people don’t notice.

KELLER: Why do you think their noticing is so vital?

MELISSA: Because if no one sees what I’m doing, it’s like it never happened. It’s like I don’t exist.

KELLER: [quietly] That’s a revealing statement. What do you think it says about where you’re finding your identity?

MELISSA: So now it’s wrong to care about my reputation? I’m supposed to just let people think whatever they want? That’s naïve. People step all over you if you don’t protect yourself.

KELLER: Protecting yourself is wise. But living to curate an image—that’s exhausting, isn’t it?

MELISSA: [bristling] I wouldn’t call it exhausting. I call it… necessary. The world rewards strength, confidence. Nobody listens to the meek and humble—unless it’s fake humility, which is worse.

KELLER: And yet Jesus called Himself “gentle and lowly in heart.” And the Father said, “Listen to Him.” So it seems there’s a voice worth listening to that doesn’t operate by the world’s rules.

MELISSA: Yeah, but Jesus was perfect. I’m not. I can’t afford to just be vulnerable all the time. That’s dangerous.

KELLER: I hear the fear in that. You’re right—being vulnerable is dangerous… unless you’re already safe in a love that can’t be taken away.

MELISSA: [shakes her head] That sounds nice in theory. But if I actually stopped caring about what people think, I’d lose my edge. I’d lose… me.

KELLER: Or maybe you’d lose a false self and find a truer one. The gospel doesn’t erase you—it gives you back the you God intended, without the crushing weight of needing to be your own PR manager.

MELISSA: And what, I just… trust that God will make people see me the right way? That’s naïve again.

KELLER: Or it’s faith. Which is rarely naïve—it’s more like walking on a wire you know can hold you, even when it feels like it can’t.

MELISSA: [looking away] Maybe. But every time I’ve tried to let go, I’ve been burned. People disappoint you.

KELLER: And that’s where the gospel cuts differently than self-protection: it frees you to admit people will disappoint you—and you them—but God’s verdict on you is already settled. You are more sinful and flawed than you dare believe, and yet more loved and accepted in Christ than you dare hope. If you believed that deep down, you might not need the constant performance.

MELISSA: Or maybe I’d just become lazy and invisible.

KELLER: That’s the tension, isn’t it? The only way to know is to risk resting in Him instead of in applause. And that risk feels like death—because in a way, it is.

 

Session 2

Setting: Same office. This time, Melissa looks a little less polished — hair loosely tied, makeup minimal. She sits down without waiting to be invited.


KELLER: You seem… lighter? And also, maybe a little… frustrated.

MELISSA: [half laughs] That’s about right. You told me last time to stop running my own PR campaign and “risk resting in Him.” So I decided to try it. I backed off in two situations: at work, and in my small group at church.

KELLER: Tell me what happened.

MELISSA: At work, instead of jumping in to “clarify” in the meeting so everyone knew the big project was my idea, I let my boss present it without correcting him. He didn’t mention my name at all. And you know what happened? He got the credit, and I sat there feeling like I was disappearing.

KELLER: And in small group?

MELISSA: The discussion leader misquoted something I’d said last week about prayer. Normally I’d step in and fix it so people knew I was the one who had made the profound point. But I stayed quiet. And nobody even noticed.

KELLER: So—two experiments where you didn’t push for recognition, and the result felt like…

MELISSA: Like losing. Like confirming the fear I’ve had all along: if I stop pushing, I’ll vanish.

KELLER: And yet you’re still here. You didn’t vanish.

MELISSA: [sharp] Easy for you to say. You’ve got a platform. People invite you to speak.

KELLER: Fair. I also spent years needing that platform to feel secure. It’s still a temptation. But can I ask—you say you vanished. Who exactly stopped seeing you?

MELISSA: [pauses] …Everyone.

KELLER: Or just the people in those two moments?

MELISSA: That’s not the point.

KELLER: It might be. Because if the gospel is true, the One whose opinion matters most never stopped seeing you—never stopped knowing your contribution, your words, your heart. So what you experienced wasn’t actual erasure. It was the loss of an idol’s attention.

MELISSA: [frowning] That’s… harsh.

KELLER: It is. But it’s also freeing if you can bear to look at it. Because the idol of human approval is never satisfied—it demands constant sacrifices, and the moment you stop feeding it, it punishes you with that feeling of invisibility.

MELISSA: [quiet] I felt that. Like the air went out of the room.

KELLER: And yet—did anything truly good or important about you actually change?

MELISSA: I don’t know. I still feel… less.

KELLER: That’s the detox. The withdrawal symptoms. You’ve been measuring your “fullness” by applause levels for so long that being full in Christ feels like being empty—until your heart learns a new scale.

MELISSA: So you’re saying this feeling means it’s working?

KELLER: I’m saying it might mean you’re standing in the space where God can retrain your loves. But it’s not automatic. You have to fight to believe His verdict is enough when the room is silent.

MELISSA: And if I can’t?

KELLER: Then you come back, and we talk about the cross again. About the Son who made Himself “of no reputation” to give you His. Because that’s where the power is—not in your performance, or even in your letting go, but in what He’s already secured for you.

MELISSA: [half-smiles] I can’t tell if this is making me stronger or just making me invisible.

KELLER: Maybe it’s making you invisible to the wrong audience so you can be visible to the right One.

 

Final Session

Setting: Six months later. Same office, same two chairs, but this time Melissa walks in smiling before Keller even greets her.


KELLER: That’s a different expression. What’s happened?

MELISSA: [sits down, shakes her head] You’re not going to believe this—actually, you will. Something happened at the school fundraiser last week.

KELLER: Go on.

MELISSA: I’ve been helping on the planning team for months. The night of the event, it went off without a hitch. People were raving about how beautiful the room looked, how smooth the program was.

KELLER: And?

MELISSA: And the chair of the committee—bless her heart—stood up during the thank-you speech and named everyone on the team except me. Literally skipped right over me.

KELLER: That must have been…

MELISSA: [interrupting] Here’s the thing. I felt the old heat rise—you know, the “correct the record” instinct. My mouth even opened. But then—I don’t know—it was like I could breathe again before I even said anything. And I just… let it go.

KELLER: Why?

MELISSA: Because in that moment, it hit me: God saw me decorate those tables. He saw me organize the volunteers. And that was enough. I didn’t need the microphone.

KELLER: And how did it feel?

MELISSA: [smiles slowly] Not like vanishing. More like… relief. Like I was off duty.

KELLER: That’s significant.

MELISSA: I know. It’s small, but it’s real. I didn’t even tell my sister until the next day—and when I did, I wasn’t fishing for her to say “good job.”

KELLER: Melissa, that’s the Spirit rewiring your heart. You tasted the joy of doing something purely as worship, without demanding it be currency for your worth.

MELISSA: [nods] I’m not saying I’m cured. Yesterday I still snapped at a coworker who took credit for my report. But… I think I get it now. This isn’t about never being seen. It’s about being seen first—by Him—and letting that be the anchor.

KELLER: Exactly. And from that anchor, you can face both praise and neglect without being mastered by either.

MELISSA: You know what’s funny? I actually enjoyed the rest of that fundraiser more than any other year. I wasn’t calculating whether people noticed me—I was just… there. Present.

KELLER: That’s the quiet freedom the gospel offers. The world will barely notice it. But you’ll feel it in your bones.


Narrator’s Note (implied through tone, not stated outright):
Melissa will still have to fight her old instincts. But she’s begun to believe—really believe—that the verdict is in, and the Judge smiles. That belief is loosening the grip of her old glory-hunger, one un-credited moment at a time.

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