The Virtue of Humility: A Path to True Greatness

Humility sits quietly at the heart of Christian virtue — unassuming, yet transformative. It isn’t weakness, nor does it mean thinking less of yourself; rather, it’s seeing yourself truthfully through God’s eyes. St. Augustine once said, “It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes men as angels.” In that simple but profound line, he captures what centuries of theology have echoed: humility restores what pride destroys.

St. Thomas Aquinas described humility as a virtue that tempers the soul’s appetite for greatness, keeping our desires rightly ordered under God’s will. In his Summa Theologica, he explained that humility aligns our hearts with truth — for truth, in its purest form, is to recognize God as the source of all good. Unlike meekness misunderstood as passivity, humility is active — it strengthens rather than weakens, liberating the soul from the endless hunger for recognition.

In a culture that prizes self-promotion, humility stands as quiet resistance. It invites us to find joy not in being above others but in serving them — and in doing so, reflecting Christ Himself.

The Importance of Humility

The virtue of humility is not simply moral decorum — it’s the foundation of spiritual growth. Without humility, there can be no genuine relationship with God, for pride clouds our vision and blinds us to grace. St. Augustine on humility taught that it is the dwelling place where all other virtues live. Pride, in contrast, builds illusions of self-sufficiency — a fragile world that collapses when tested.

Scripture repeatedly reminds us of this tension between pride and grace. In Romans 7:21–23, Paul confesses, “When I want to do good, evil lies close at hand.” This struggle captures the essence of humility: an honest awareness of our weakness paired with dependence on divine mercy. Through humility, we confront not only our flaws but also the illusion that we can save ourselves.

Recognizing oneself through God’s perspective dismantles false pride. It shifts the gaze from self to Savior — from personal merit to divine mercy. Humility brings peace to the restless heart, the kind of peace that comes when we realize our worth lies not in achievement but in belonging to God.

Characteristics of Humility

A humble person is not one who hides from the world but one who stands in truth. They are self-aware yet unselfconscious — not bound by the weight of others’ opinions. St. Thomas Aquinas notes that humility frees the soul from pride’s tyranny, allowing us to act without vanity or fear of judgment.

Among the saints and humility’s great witnesses, St. Mother Teresa shines brightly. Her entire life was a sermon in silence. She once said, “If you are humble, nothing will touch you — neither praise nor disgrace — because you know what you are.” Humility, in her example, was not about denial but about clarity — the freedom to love without needing to be noticed.

A truly humble person seeks to purify the heart of selfish desires — the craving for recognition, control, or affirmation. Such purification doesn’t shrink a person’s worth; it expands their capacity to love. In humility, we discover that joy is not found in being important, but in being present.

Overcoming Pride and Selfish Desires

Pride is subtle. It often dresses itself as righteousness, ambition, or even humility. Overcoming pride means identifying our need for esteem — that quiet craving for praise and approval that sneaks into our words and deeds.

True spiritual growth through humility begins when we invite God to expose these hidden motives. St. Augustine urged believers to look inward, not with condemnation but with honesty: “Do not go outward; return within yourself. In the inward man dwells the truth.” When we align our desires with God’s will, we loosen pride’s grip and allow grace to work freely.

Humility teaches us how to handle both criticism and failure without losing peace. When others misunderstand us or when success eludes us, humility whispers that our worth isn’t on trial. God alone sees the heart, and that is enough. This interior freedom — being unshaken by praise or blame — is one of humility’s greatest gifts.

The Litany of Humility — A Prayer for Transformation

One of the Church’s most profound prayers, the Litany of Humility, attributed to Cardinal Rafael Merry del Val, distills the essence of Christian humility into a series of petitions. Each line challenges the ego and invites transformation. Let’s reflect on it, line by line.

O Jesus! meek and humble of heart, hear me.

This opening invocation sets the tone — humility begins in imitation of Christ, whose heart was both strong and gentle. It reminds us that humility is not achieved by effort alone but through grace.

From the desire of being esteemed, deliver me, Jesus.

We often measure ourselves by others’ approval. This line calls for freedom from that bondage — to find our value not in esteem but in divine love.

From the desire of being loved, deliver me, Jesus.

Even the pure desire to be loved can become self-centered when detached from God. This petition purifies love itself, reminding us that to receive love rightly, we must first love selflessly.

From the desire of being extolled, honored, praised, preferred, consulted, or approved, deliver me, Jesus.

Each phrase exposes a layer of pride’s disguise. Humility doesn’t reject excellence or recognition but detaches from the need for it. Our dignity rests in God’s regard, not public applause.

From the fear of being humiliated, despised, rebuked, calumniated, forgotten, ridiculed, wronged, or suspected, deliver me, Jesus.

Here lies the deep purification of the soul — the freedom to suffer misunderstanding without bitterness. It’s where humility meets courage, trusting that God’s truth endures beyond human opinion.

That others may be loved more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

This radical charity reorders the heart. It’s not self-hatred but self-forgetfulness — a joy in others’ good that mirrors the love of heaven itself.

That others may be esteemed more than I… that others may be chosen and I set aside…

Each line trains the soul to rejoice in others’ blessings, breaking envy’s chains. It transforms competition into communion.

That others may be praised and I unnoticed… that others may be preferred to me in everything…

This is humility at its most beautiful — the quiet acceptance of being unseen, trusting that our hiddenness is not emptiness but intimacy with God.

That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

The final line grounds humility in purpose: not comparison, but sanctity. It acknowledges that holiness is not a contest, but a call.

Embracing Selfless Desires

Once pride loosens its grip, the soul becomes free to love rightly. Humility redirects our desires — from self-promotion to service. This is where selflessness in Christianity finds its full expression.

To embrace selfless desires is to find joy in lifting others. The humble heart delights in seeing others thrive because love, by nature, expands. St. Paul echoes this in Philippians 2:3–4: “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.”

When we detach from worldly recognition, we begin to taste divine freedom — the kind of joy that neither praise nor criticism can touch. True humility doesn’t deny one’s gifts; it uses them generously, never hoarding credit, always pointing back to God.

The Role of Humility in Facing Fear

Fear often hides behind pride. We fear humiliation, rejection, or failure — and pride builds walls to protect us. But humility tears those walls down, not by denying fear, but by trusting that love is greater.

Jesus Himself demonstrated this truth most clearly in His Passion. Though mocked and beaten, He faced suffering with unshakable peace. His humility wasn’t passive — it was powerful enough to embrace the cross. The saints and humility’s martyrs followed the same path: not seeking pain, but accepting it when love demanded courage.

Humility transforms fear into faith. When we no longer fear humiliation, we are free — free to love boldly, to serve joyfully, to stand firm in truth.

Living the Virtue of Humility

Humility is not the world’s way, but it is Christ’s way — and therefore, the way to peace. It teaches us to live truthfully, to love freely, and to see ourselves as God sees us: precious, yet dependent; strong, yet surrendered.

If pride isolates, humility unites. It reconciles us to God, to others, and to ourselves. St. Augustine once summarized the entire Christian journey in three words: “First humility, second humility, third humility.”

To cultivate humility is to walk with Christ Himself. And as we pray the Litany of Humility, line by line, may we discover what every saint already knew — that the lowest place, when chosen in love, is the most exalted of all.

“Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” — Matthew 23:12

Humility. CATHOLIC ENCYCLOPEDIA: Humility. (n.d.).

Ch. 2 - the virtue of humility. My Catholic Life! (2017, December 30).

FAQs

1. What is the virtue of humility in Christianity?

In Christianity, humility is the virtue that allows a person to see themselves truthfully in relation to God. It means acknowledging one’s dependence on divine grace and valuing others without comparison. Humility isn’t self-deprecation—it’s spiritual clarity rooted in love and truth.

2. Why did St. Augustine emphasize humility so strongly?

St. Augustine taught that humility is the foundation of all virtues because it restores what pride destroys. For him, humility is the soul’s path back to God—recognizing that every good thing we do is the result of divine grace, not human pride.

3. How does humility help in overcoming pride?

Humility confronts pride by revealing our limitations and redirecting our focus from self-glory to God’s glory. Through prayer, repentance, and reflection, we learn to let go of the need for recognition and instead find joy in serving others.

4. What can we learn from the Litany of Humility?

The Litany of Humility teaches detachment from praise, fear, and ambition. Each line is a prayer asking Christ to free us from the desire for esteem and the fear of rejection—transforming our hearts toward peace, selflessness, and divine trust.

5. How do saints like Mother Teresa embody the virtue of humility?

Saints such as Mother Teresa lived humility by serving others without seeking praise. Their joy came from loving Christ in the poor and forgotten, reminding us that true greatness lies not in being admired but in quietly doing God’s will.

6. How does humility strengthen faith during fear or suffering?

Humility strengthens faith by helping us surrender control to God. When we face fear, humility reminds us that we are never alone—our weakness becomes the space where God’s strength is revealed.

Redemption and Martyrdom: The Journey of St. Longinus

The story of redemption is one of the most moving threads in Christian history. It reminds us that grace is never out of reach, even for those who once stood farthest from it. Among the many lives transformed by Christ’s sacrifice, few shine brighter than that of St. Longinus, the Roman centurion who oversaw the Crucifixion and became one of its most powerful witnesses. His journey—from soldier to saint—reveals how forgiveness can reshape even the hardest of hearts and how divine truth can awaken the most unlikely soul.

Context

To understand Longinus, we must first glimpse the world he lived in. The Roman Empire of the first century was defined by power, conquest, and rigid hierarchy. The military wasn’t just an occupation—it was the spine of Roman identity. Soldiers, particularly centurions, carried immense authority and respect. They commanded men, enforced discipline, and embodied loyalty to Caesar. Religion in Rome was polytheistic, steeped in rituals meant to please a pantheon of gods and maintain civic order rather than personal holiness.

Into this environment came the figure of Christ—a teacher who preached humility, mercy, and a kingdom not of this world. To the Roman mind, such a message was both perplexing and dangerous. Longinus, stationed in Jerusalem, served as a centurion in the imperial forces. His duty was simple: uphold order, no matter the cost. When the Jewish authorities brought Jesus before Pilate, Longinus likely saw only another condemned man—a political rebel destined for public execution. He could not yet know that this encounter would unravel everything he thought he understood about power, justice, and faith.

The Crucifixion of Christ

The Crucifixion was the Romans’ ultimate display of control—painful, public, and humiliating. As a centurion, Longinus would have ensured that the execution went according to law. The soldiers mocked Jesus, placed a crown of thorns on His head, and raised Him upon the wooden cross. To those watching, this was Rome’s victory over defiance. But to heaven, it was the hour of redemption.

Longinus, trained to ignore emotion, stood guard. Yet something about this execution unsettled him. He watched the serenity with which Christ endured the agony—the forgiveness in His words even toward those who nailed Him there. As the sky darkened and the earth trembled, the centurion felt the weight of something far greater than imperial duty. Tradition holds that Longinus was the soldier who pierced Christ’s side with a spear to confirm His death. From the wound flowed blood and water, symbols of baptism and salvation. For Longinus, that moment was more than duty—it was revelation.

The Conversion of Longinus

When the earth quaked and the veil of the temple tore in two, the hardened soldier saw what no sword could explain. The Gospel of Matthew records his words: “Truly, this was the Son of God.” (Matthew 27:54). That confession marked the beginning of Longinus’s conversion.

Imagine the weight of that realization—the man responsible for ensuring Christ’s death suddenly seeing divinity before him. For Longinus, the Crucifixion was no longer an act of punishment; it became the moment of his awakening. Many early Christian writings describe how his blindness, whether physical or spiritual, was healed when Christ’s blood touched him. In that instant, light entered his soul, and the soldier who once stood for empire began to stand for eternity.

Longinus’s transformation is one of the most profound examples of redemption in Scripture and tradition. His journey shows that no past is beyond forgiveness. Grace does not seek perfection; it seeks willingness—the heart ready to be changed.

Life After Conversion

After Christ’s death and resurrection, Longinus left behind his post, his title, and his allegiance to Rome. The man who once wielded authority now sought apostleship in humility. He was baptized by the early followers of Christ and began preaching the message of the Resurrection wherever he went.

According to Christian tradition, Longinus traveled through Cappadocia (modern-day Turkey), spreading the Gospel and testifying to what he had seen at Calvary. He spoke not as a scholar but as a witness—someone who had stood at the very center of the mystery of salvation. His words carried the weight of firsthand conviction. In a world skeptical of the Christian movement, the voice of a former Roman centurion lent credibility and courage to the growing Church.

For Longinus, every day became a living act of redemption. He embraced simplicity, prayer, and the discipline of love. The soldier’s strength was still there, but it was now tempered by compassion. He lived out what St. Paul would later write: “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.” (2 Corinthians 5:17).

Martyrdom and Sainthood

The Roman Empire did not look kindly on converts—least of all one from its own ranks. Word of Longinus’s conversion eventually reached the authorities. To renounce Caesar and proclaim Christ as Lord was treason. Soldiers were sent to arrest him. Yet, much like the apostles before him, Longinus faced death with peace and courage.

When his captors arrived, he reportedly welcomed them with hospitality, knowing his hour had come. He prayed for their forgiveness even as they executed him. In dying for his newfound faith, Longinus joined the countless early Christians who sealed their belief with martyrdom. His name became a symbol of courage and conviction—a soldier who discovered a greater Commander and a higher kingdom.

The Church later recognized him as St. Longinus, commemorating his feast on March 15. His relics are said to rest in St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, near the statue depicting him holding the spear—the same instrument that once pierced Christ’s side but now stands as a sign of faith redeemed.

Lessons from the Life of St. Longinus

The story of St. Longinus speaks directly to the heart of Christian forgiveness and redemption. His transformation reminds us that holiness is not reserved for the already righteous. It is a gift extended to those humble enough to receive it.

Longinus’s conversion mirrors other great transformations in Church history: St. Paul, who persecuted Christians before becoming an apostle; St. Augustine, who traded a life of indulgence for one of spiritual wisdom. Each shows that grace can reach the farthest corners of the human heart. But Longinus stands out because his conversion began at the foot of the Cross itself—within the very act of divine mercy unfolding before him.

For believers today, his life offers three enduring lessons:

St. Longinus’s story also invites us to see that sainthood is not about perfection but perseverance. It’s about continually choosing grace over guilt and faith over fear.

Inspiring Conversion & Redemption

The life of St. Longinus is a radiant testament to God’s mercy. A Roman centurion, once defined by duty and violence, became a beacon of faith and humility. His journey from executioner to evangelist reminds us that the Cross does not merely condemn—it transforms.

Every person, no matter how far they’ve strayed, stands within reach of that same grace. Redemption isn’t an abstract promise; it’s a living reality offered through Christ. Like Longinus, we are called to look upon the Crucified and say with conviction, “Truly, this was the Son of God.”

His story endures not only in marble statues and feast days but in the quiet conversions of countless souls who find hope at the foot of the Cross. In the end, St. Longinus teaches us that sainthood begins where pride ends—and where faith finally takes root in the heart.

Catholic Online. (n.d.). St. Longinus - Saints & Angels.

Akrotirianakis, Fr. S. (2024, May 3). Out of the depths: From sinner to Saint-St. Longinus. Orthodox Christian Network.

FAQs about St. Longinus

1. Who was St. Longinus in the Bible?
St. Longinus is traditionally identified as the Roman centurion who pierced Christ’s side during the Crucifixion and later proclaimed, “Truly, this was the Son of God.”

2. How did St. Longinus become a saint?
After his conversion, Longinus preached about the Resurrection of Christ, was martyred for his faith, and was later canonized by the Church for his witness and sacrifice.

3. What does St. Longinus represent in Christianity?
He symbolizes redemption, forgiveness, and the transforming power of faith. His life shows that even those far from God can become instruments of divine grace.

4. When is the Feast Day of St. Longinus celebrated?
The Catholic Church celebrates his feast on March 15, honoring his conversion, martyrdom, and enduring example of faith.