The Quiet Strength of Humility: Why Letting Go of Ego Is Central to Catholic Life
In a world that often rewards self-promotion, personal branding, and the pursuit of individual greatness, humility can feel like a lost virtue. Social media celebrates those who shout the loudest. Success is frequently measured by visibility rather than virtue. Yet within the Christian tradition, and particularly in Catholic teaching; humility is not only valued but is seen as essential to spiritual growth and right living.
The Catholic Church teaches that the path to God is paved not with pride, but with surrender. The person who wishes to know Christ must first relinquish their ego. In doing so, they begin to see themselves not as the centre of the universe, but as part of something infinitely greater.
Humility is not about self-hatred or weakness. It is not grovelling or denying one’s gifts. As C.S. Lewis wrote in Mere Christianity, “Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less.” It is the recognition that all we have: our talents, our time, our lives are gifts. Humility allows us to live with gratitude, generosity, and clarity about our place in the world.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church defines humility as “the virtue by which a Christian acknowledges that God is the author of all good” and that “humility is the foundation of prayer” (Catechism, §2559). Without humility, we cannot truly pray, because we cannot acknowledge our need for God.
Ego, by contrast, inflates our sense of self. It whispers that we are the source of our own success. It seeks validation and control. It resists correction and refuses to forgive. In spiritual terms, ego is a barrier between the soul and God. It closes us off from grace.
This is why the early Church Fathers regarded pride as the root of all sin. St Augustine wrote, “It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes men as angels” (City of God, Book XIV). Pride isolates. It breeds division, self-righteousness, and despair. Ego is ultimately unsatisfying, because it is fragile. It demands constant reinforcement. One slight, one failure, and it cracks.
In contrast, humility allows us to bend without breaking. It makes us teachable. It makes us human.
Ego-centric living places the self at the centre of all things. It fuels the illusion that happiness is found through personal power, acclaim, or autonomy. This vision of life is not only spiritually dangerous, it is deeply alienating.
Pope Benedict XVI warned of this in his 2005 homily at the Mass of his inauguration, saying, “The world offers you comfort, but you were not made for comfort. You were made for greatness.” This greatness, he clarified, does not come from ego or self-assertion, but from service, sacrifice, and conformity to Christ.
Ego-centricity cuts us off from the needs of others and the guidance of God. It creates a world where the self becomes a false idol, and everyone else becomes a competitor, obstacle, or audience. The result is anxiety, loneliness, and spiritual confusion.
As Pope Francis observed in his encyclical Fratelli Tutti, “When the ego is inflated, there is no room for others, no room for the poor, no room for God” (Fratelli Tutti, §222). The person who lives only for themselves eventually finds that there is no one left to live for.
Ego-centric spirituality is particularly dangerous. It reduces religion to personal fulfilment or aesthetic preference. It turns faith into a lifestyle brand. But Christ did not say, “Come, improve yourself.” He said, “Take up your cross and follow me” (Matthew 16:24).
The greatest example of humility is Christ Himself. Though He was divine, “He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant” (Philippians 2:7). He did not seek power but gave it up. He did not demand honour, but washed the feet of His disciples. He did not cling to His rights but embraced the Cross.
Pope Francis has often returned to the theme of humility in his teaching. In a 2016 homily, he said, “Humility is the path to holiness. The humble are those who look to God, who look to their neighbour, not at themselves.” He warned that the Church must not become “self-referential” or arrogant, but must walk with those on the margins.
In today’s climate, humility may seem weak or irrelevant. But it is exactly what the world needs. Humility makes dialogue possible. It makes forgiveness possible. It invites transformation.
The spiritual disciplines of the Church are designed to cultivate humility. Confession requires us to name our faults and ask for mercy. Fasting reminds us of our dependence. The Eucharist centres our lives not on ourselves, but on Christ.
St Thérèse of Lisieux, the beloved Doctor of the Church, described her “little way” of holiness as one of radical humility and trust. She wrote, “To remain little is to recognise one's nothingness, to expect everything from God.”
Humility also guards against spiritual pride — the temptation to think we are better than others because we are religious or “good.” True humility acknowledges that we are all sinners in need of grace. As the desert fathers used to say, “The one who knows their own sins is greater than the one who raises the dead.”
In practice, humility means:
Admitting when we are wrong
Listening more than we speak
Serving without expecting praise
Asking for help
Forgiving without conditions
Letting go of the need to be seen or celebrated
These small acts create space for God. They also bring peace. As Thomas à Kempis wrote in The Imitation of Christ, “If you wish to learn something that will help you, learn to see yourself as nothing, and count others as something.”
Humility is not defeat. It is liberation. It frees us from the exhausting effort of trying to prove our worth. It roots us in reality. It opens our hearts.
And it brings us closer to God.