Common Errors Concerning Humility

A Word That Has Become Synonymous with Smallness

Few Christian words have faded as much as this one. In ordinary usage, “humble” first describes a modest condition — “of humble origin”, “a humble dwelling” — then, by extension, an attitude: lowering one’s head, apologizing for existing, never claiming anything. The word has come to evoke a diminishing of oneself, halfway between lack of confidence and resignation. Our era, which values self-assertion, confidence, and self-esteem, spontaneously classifies humility among the attitudes of losers.

This reduction is appealing because it is convenient: it spares us from seeking what the virtue truly entails. But the etymology points elsewhere. “Humility” comes from the Latin humus, “the earth, the ground” — and the homiletic gloss sees in it not the ground that is trampled, but the fertile earth, where the seed takes root and bears fruit. The humble person is not crushed: he stands in his truth as a creature, feet on the ground, neither raising himself up nor lowering himself. The virtue does not abolish man’s greatness: it restores it to the truth.

Humility, Modesty, Abjection, Pusillanimity: Words That Are Confused

Part of the misunderstanding comes from the fact that French covers with a single word, or with similar words, realities that tradition carefully distinguished. Four confusions recur constantly.

Modesty is not humility: for St. Thomas, it is an outward expression of humility — moderation in bearing, dress, speech, honors^[7]. One can be modest in manners without being humble of heart, and vice versa.

Abjection is not the virtue of humility. St. Francis de Sales makes a decisive distinction here: abjection is “the smallness, baseness, and vileness that is in us” — a fact, sometimes a defect; the virtue of humility is “the true knowledge and voluntary recognition of our abjection”^[8]. The first is suffered; the second is a knowledge and an act. To confuse the two is to mistake misery for virtue.

Pusillanimity — smallness of soul, fear of undertaking, discouragement — is not humility but its counterfeit by defect: a vice that, like pride, sins against the right truth about oneself, but in the opposite direction.

Scripture, finally, almost always pairs humility with two other realities: with gentleness (Christ “gentle and humble of heart”, Mt 11:29) and with poverty of heart (“Blessed are the poor in spirit”, Mt 5:3)^[9]. Keeping these nuances in mind already avoids half the misunderstandings: we do not ask humility for what belongs to modesty (demeanor), nor to abjection (our actual smallness), and we do not confuse the virtue, which establishes us in truth, with pusillanimity, which shrinks the soul out of fear.

Reminder: What Humility Really Is

Before correcting errors, we need a compass. The reference definition is summed up in one word: truth. St. Teresa of Avila received it in a flash of light, as she sought to understand why God loves this virtue so much.

“It suddenly came into my mind, without further reflection, that it is because God is supreme truth, and that humility is nothing other than walking in truth. Now, it is a great truth that, far from possessing anything good of ourselves, we have instead only misery as our portion, and that we are nothing. Whoever does not understand this walks in falsehood.” — St. Teresa of Avila, Interior Castle, Sixth Dwelling Places, ch. 10^[10]

St. Bernard had expressed it in the same sense as early as the twelfth century: humility is “the virtue by which a man, in a most true knowledge of himself, becomes vile in his own eyes”^[11] — not out of contempt, but by “most true knowledge”, verissima cognitione. And St. Thomas, following Aristotle, gives the technical analysis: humility moderates something, as every virtue does.

“As regards the appetite for arduous good, two virtues are necessary: one which tempers and restrains the mind, lest it tend immoderately toward lofty things, and this is the virtue of humility.” — Saint Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, II-II, q. 161, a. 1^[12]

Three decisive features follow from this. First, humility is a truth, not a fiction: it does not consist in thinking oneself worse than one is, but in seeing oneself as one truly is before God — “let us do ourselves justice out of respect and love for the truth,” adds Teresa of Avila^[13]. Next, it presupposes a greatness to be recognized and referred: if man has nothing good of himself, all that he has that is good is given to him, and to acknowledge this is still humility, not pride. Finally, it is relative to God: it is before Him that the measure is taken, which frees it from anxious comparison with others. Remove any one of these features, and you obtain a counterfeit: a false truth (self-contempt), a denied greatness (refusing one’s gifts), or worldly humility (measuring oneself against others). For the full nature of the virtue and the means to make it grow, see How to Grow in Humility and Knowledge of One’s Nothingness; they are not repeated here.

Error — “Humility Means Having a Poor Self-Image”

This is the root error, and the most widespread in the age of “self-confidence.” The humble person is thought to be one who depreciates himself: he thinks ill of himself, doubts his worth, judges himself inferior. Humility is then opposed to a healthy self-esteem, as if being humble meant maintaining a low opinion of oneself. The error is seductive because the word “humble” suggests smallness, and because a certain piety has long confused virtue with self-disparagement.

Why this is false. Humility is not a poor self-image: it is a true one. Now, the truth about oneself does not consist only in misery; it also includes all the good that God has placed there. To think oneself worthless is as much a lie as to think oneself great by one’s own power — and a lie is never a virtue. “To walk in truth,” says Teresa of Avila, is to render to God what is God’s and to do oneself justice. Self-disparagement, on the contrary, is often a disguised form of wounded self-love: one suffers from not being admirable, and mistakes this disappointment for humility. Saint Bernard marks it with a word: the humble person knows himself, and it is this knowledge — not contempt — that keeps him lowly.

What the Church says. Humility is a knowledge, and all knowledge is ordered to the truth. This is why tradition defines it as truth, not as self-deprecation — “walking in truth” (Teresa of Avila), “most true knowledge of oneself” (Saint Bernard).

In echo — a reported saying, not magisterium. The Book of Heaven — the thirty-six notebooks in which Luisa Piccarreta (1865-1947), an Italian laywoman from Corato, says she gathered the words of Jesus — points in the same direction. Luisa Piccarreta is a Servant of God (cause opened in 1994; Nulla Osta from the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith for the pursuit of her cause, June 2024, confirmed on December 3, 2024 by letter of Msgr Philippe Curbelié to Msgr Benoît Bertrand (Prot. N. 94/37 — 102675)); her writings belong to private revelation: they may illustrate, never prove a point of doctrine. We read there:

“What is called humility in man should be called self-knowledge. He who does not know himself walks in falsehood.” — Saying of Jesus reported by Luisa Piccarreta, The Book of Heaven, vol. 3, January 12, 1900^[14]

The humble person does not hate himself: he knows himself. And to know oneself before God is to discover oneself at once poor by oneself and rich with all that one has received — which does not crush, but brings peace.

Error — “Humility Means Denying One’s Qualities and Gifts”

A direct variant of the previous error, but on the terrain of talents: to be humble would be to hide or deny what is good in oneself — one’s intelligence, achievements, virtues — for fear of “getting a big head.” To acknowledge a quality in oneself would already be considered pride. The error is seductive because it has the appearance of prudence: one rightly distrusts vain glory.

Why this is false. To deny one’s gifts is not humility: it is ingratitude toward the Giver. Saint Francis de Sales rises precisely against this misunderstanding:

“Many do not wish or dare to think about and consider the graces that God has given them in particular, for fear of falling into vain glory and complacency, in which certainly they are mistaken… We must not fear that the knowledge of what He has placed in us will make us proud, provided that we are attentive to this truth, that whatever good is in us is not from us.” — Saint Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life, III, 5^[15]

True humility does not consist in saying “I am worth nothing,” but “all that I am worth, I have received” — according to the words of Saint Paul, taken up by Francis de Sales: “Who has set you apart? Have you anything that you did not receive? And if you received it, why do you boast as if you had not received it?” (1 Cor 4:7)^[16]. “Knowledge,” he adds, “engenders gratitude”: the more clearly one sees the gifts received, the more one gives thanks, and the more one is humble. To deny the gift is to deprive God of the glory that is His due.

What the Church says. The perfect model of this humility is the Virgin Mary. In the Magnificat, she does not deny the greatness of which she is the object: she proclaims it and refers it to God.

“He has looked upon His lowly servant; from now on all ages will call me blessed. The Mighty One has done great things for me; holy is His name!” — Gospel according to Saint Luke 1:48-49^[17]

Mary knows herself to be “the humble handmaid” (Lk 1:48) and, in the same canticle, announces that “all generations” will call her blessed: to publicly acknowledge the gifts of God, far from wounding humility, is its purest expression. “The Blessed Virgin confesses that God has done very great things for her,” comments Francis de Sales, “but only to humble herself and magnify God”^[18].

Error — “The Humble Must Believe Himself the Worst of All, or Else He Lies”

A more subtle misunderstanding, nourished by the saints themselves: Saint Paul calls himself “the foremost of sinners” (1 Tim 1:15), and so many saints have declared themselves the least and the worst. Hence the idea that to be humble obliges one to sincerely believe oneself worse than anyone else — otherwise, one would be lying out of pride. The error is seductive because it relies on indisputable models, and because it seems the most radical form of humility.

Why this is false. What the saints express is not a distorted comparative ranking, but a keen awareness of two truths: the depth of their own debt to God, and their ignorance of the hearts of others. The closer one draws to the light, the more one sees one’s own shadows, which others do not see — hence this feeling, perfectly true from within, of being the most indebted. Thomas à Kempis gives the right rule:

“When you see your brother commit a fault openly, even a very grave one, do not think yourself better than he; for you do not know how long you will persevere in good. We are all fragile; but believe that no one is more fragile than yourself.” — Thomas à Kempis, The Imitation of Christ, I, 2^[19] It is therefore not a matter of lying to oneself by ranking oneself last, but of never preferring oneself: I know my own faults from within, but I am ignorant of the graces and secret struggles of others. Humility, once again, is a “very true knowledge of oneself”, not falsified accounting. To exaggerate—to call oneself the worst while falsely believing it—would be a lie, and thus the opposite of virtue.

What the Church says. The parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector sets the standard: it is not the one who claims the prize for virtue who “went down to his house justified”, but the one who stands in the truth of his need for mercy.

“God, be merciful to me, a sinner! … For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted.” — Gospel according to St. Luke 18:13-14^[20]

The humble person does not compare himself to declare himself the worst: he ceases to compare himself, and stands before God as he is, a beggar for grace.

Error — “Humility is weakness and a lack of self-confidence”

For many, humility is opposed to confidence: the humble person would doubt himself, dare nothing, and lack assurance. In the age of personal development, humility is even seen as a hindrance—a virtue that prevents one from asserting oneself, succeeding, or daring. The error is attractive because humility is confused with a timid temperament, and trust in God is confused with self-confidence.

Why this is false. Humility does not eliminate confidence: it redirects and grounds it. The proud person relies on himself—a fragile foundation; the humble person relies on God—an unshakable foundation. This is what St. Paul experienced: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness… when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Cor 12:9-10)^[21]. Far from diminishing, humility frees one from the tyranny of the ego, which paralyzes more than it elevates. Christ Himself attaches to humility the promise of interior rest: “you will find rest for your souls” (Mt 11:29)^[22] — the humble person does not shrink himself, he rests.

Better still: true humility is inseparable from confidence — as the experience of the saints shows, and a saying reported from The Book of Heaven puts it in its own way, as an echo only: humility without confidence would not even be a virtue.

“Humility is the smallest of plants, but its branches rise up to Heaven, surrounding my throne and penetrating deeply into my Heart. The branches produced by humility correspond to confidence. In short, there is no true humility without confidence. Humility without confidence is a false virtue.” — Saying of Jesus reported by Luisa Piccarreta, The Book of Heaven, vol. 2, April 3, 1899^[23]

What the Church says. Humility is the very condition of supernatural strength, because it attracts grace: “God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble” (1 Pet 5:5; cf. Jas 4:6; Prov 3:34)^[24]. The one who receives the grace of God is not weakened: he is made capable of what his own strength could never achieve. For more on the link between humility, confidence, and peace of heart, see Humility, confidence, and our view of our sins.

Error — “To be humble is to let oneself be humiliated and to endure everything”

A grave and frequent error: to make humility a universal passivity. The humble person would be the one who lets himself be trampled on, never raises his voice, defends neither his rights, nor his reputation, nor the truth—a “doormat” by virtue. Humility is then invoked as a reason never to react. The error is attractive because it has the appearance of self-effacement, and because it is more convenient to endure everything than to discern.

Why this is false. Humility concerns the heart, not the erasure of every legitimate right. Christ, the model of humility par excellence, when struck unjustly during his trial, did not silently turn the other cheek: he demanded an explanation.

“If I have spoken wrongly, bear witness to the wrong; but if I have spoken rightly, why do you strike me?” — Gospel according to St. John 18:23^[25]

To defend the truth, one’s reputation, or justice is not a failure in humility. St. Francis de Sales states clearly: a good name is a good that “charity requires and humility agrees that we should desire and preciously preserve”; and in the face of slander, contempt for the injury is most often more salutary than resentment and dispute^[26]. The humble person does not seek humiliation for its own sake; he accepts it when it comes, without provoking it or cowardly fleeing from it. To let oneself be crushed out of fear or laziness is not humility: it is pusillanimity in disguise.

What the Church says. What the humble person willingly accepts is abjection that follows a real fault or a permitted trial—without thereby renouncing the truth: virtue, says Francis de Sales, “must therefore be preferred in all things and everywhere,” and the root of a good name is “the goodness and uprightness” of one’s life. Humility changes one’s relationship to honor—“we must be jealous, but not idolaters, of our good name”—without dispensing from bearing witness to the truth.

Error — “False humility: putting oneself down in words”

A particularly deceptive counterfeit for devout souls: humility would consist in multiplying words of humility—calling oneself unworthy, worthless, the last—often with the secret hope of being contradicted or esteemed all the more humble. This is “humble boasting”: one lowers oneself so that others will raise one up. The error is attractive because it perfectly imitates the language of virtue.

Why this is false. Francis de Sales described this mechanism with fierce lucidity:

“We often say that we are nothing, that we are misery itself and the filth of the world; but we would be very upset if we were taken at our word and published as such. On the contrary, we pretend to flee and hide ourselves, so that we may be pursued and sought after… True humility does not pretend to be so and rarely utters words of humility.” — St. Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life, III, 5^[27]

True humility does not put itself on display: it “wishes to hide itself”, even to the point of concealing its own virtues. False humility, on the contrary, displays its abasement as an ornament. The test is simple: if the confession of unworthiness hopes for a denial, it is not humility—it is self-love disguised as virtue.

What the Church says. The practical rule of Francis de Sales is decisive: “Either let us not utter words of humility, or let us say them with a true interior sentiment, in conformity with what we outwardly pronounce”^[28]. Humility is not a rhetoric of abasement; it is a state of the heart, which is less seen than lived. In echo, a saying reported from The Book of Heaven likewise says that “humility without confidence is a false virtue”: to put oneself down without abandoning oneself to God is mere posturing.

Error — “The humble person must never accept compliments, honors, or responsibility”

A corollary of the previous errors: the humble person should refuse all praise, flee from any office, and decline any form of recognition—accepting a compliment, a promotion, or a responsibility would be succumbing to pride. This error is seductive because it has the appearance of selflessness, and because vainglory is indeed a real danger.

Why this is false. To systematically refuse what God gives or asks can, under the guise of humility, be an evasion—or even a reverse pride, which prefers the safety of obscurity to the risk of service. The parable of the talents specifically condemns the servant who buries his (Mt 25:14–30): failing to make one’s gifts bear fruit out of false modesty is not a virtue. The humble person can receive praise by offering it to God, and accept a responsibility by carrying it as a service. This is what Mary did: she did not refuse the divine maternity, but consented to it—“I am the handmaid of the Lord” (Lk 1:38)—and saw in it not an honor to flee, but a mission to receive.

What the Church says. Humility does not release us from the duty to use our gifts: it purifies our intention. To receive an honor while remaining humble, says Francis de Sales, is not to become “puffed up” by it, nor to reject it out of affectation—“we will truly enjoy it and rejoice because we have it, but we will glorify God alone, because He is its author”^[29]. The greatness received is not a poison: it becomes an occasion for thanksgiving.

Error — “To be humble is to despise oneself and become discouraged by one’s faults”

A dangerous counterfeit for scrupulous souls: after a fall, humility would require one to treat oneself harshly, to overwhelm oneself with reproaches, to brood over one’s unworthiness. Discouragement would pass for humility; harshness toward oneself, for spiritual seriousness. The error is seductive because this severity resembles lucidity.

Why this is false. Discouragement is not a fruit of humility, but of wounded pride: one cannot bear not to be perfect. Jean de Bernières puts it succinctly:

“To be surprised at having fallen into sin is not to know oneself; to be troubled and discouraged is not to know the goodness of God.” — Jean de Bernières, Le Chrétien intérieur^[30]

One who truly knows himself is not surprised to fall: he knows his fragility, rises very gently, and places his trust in God again. True humility, after a fault, does not say “I am despicable” (self-contempt) nor “it’s not serious” (laxity), but “I am poor, and God is rich in mercy.” This is the whole meaning of the little way of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux: to consent to one’s littleness, even to “glory” in one’s weakness, because it attracts mercy^[31]. Self-contempt closes the heart; humility opens it to grace.

What the Church says. True humility is inseparable from trust and peace. Saint Faustina gave the formula: to hold together “the abyss of [one’s] misery” and “the abyss of [God’s] Mercy”^[32]. To despise oneself is to look only at the first abyss; to hope is to look at both. For how to transform the way one views one’s own sins, see Using our sins to grow in humility and trust.

Error — “Humility forbids great desires and ambition”

Humility is often opposed to ambition: the humble person would be content with little, would not dare great projects, would even refuse to desire holiness for fear of presumption. To aspire to great things would be contrary to humility. The error is seductive because it confuses disordered ambition (wanting to appear, to dominate) with the right desire for the good.

Why this is false. Far from excluding each other, humility and magnanimity—the virtue of great desires—complement one another. Saint Thomas explains: magnanimity urges man to great things according to the measure of what God has given him; humility restrains him from striving for what exceeds him by his own strength. One looks to God’s gift, the other to man’s poverty: “there is found in man greatness, which is a gift of God, and insufficiency, which comes to him from the weakness of his nature”^[33]. Thus, one can, without contradiction, ardently desire holiness and know oneself incapable of attaining it without grace.

Saint Thérèse of Lisieux is the shining proof: the littlest of saints bore the greatest desires—“in the Heart of the Church, […] I shall be Love”—precisely because she expected nothing from herself and everything from God^[34]. Great desires are not pride when they rely not on oneself, but on the power of God.

What the Church says. Humility is the soil where great desires become possible without becoming presumptuous. “God exalts the humble” (Lk 1:52; cf. Lk 14:11)^[35]: it is not despite their humility, but because of it. The humble dare great things, because they have ceased to rely on themselves.

Error — “Humility is a slave morality, contrary to human dignity”

An objection that has become cultural since Nietzsche: Christian humility would be a slave morality, invented by the weak to make a virtue of their powerlessness, and a poison for human greatness. In this view, exalting humility is to devalue pride, self-assertion, and dignity^[36]. The objection is seductive because it rightly targets a false humility—servility, masked resentment—and because it flatters the modern taste for autonomy.

Why this is false. The objection confuses humility with baseness. But Christian humility does not debase man: it reveals his true dignity—that of being loved and called by God, not the fragile dignity he would give himself through comparison and domination. It takes rare strength to kneel: only one who knows himself to be great can lower himself freely without losing himself. This is the paradox of Christ, who “though he was in the form of God… emptied himself”:

“Never be scheming nor vain, but be humble enough to consider others superior to yourselves… Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped. But he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant… he humbled himself, becoming obedient unto death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him: he has bestowed on him the Name that is above every name.” — Letter of Saint Paul to the Philippians 2:3–9^[37]

The humility of Christ is not the weakness of a slave: it is the sovereign freedom of love, which lowers itself because it is full, not because it is empty. And it is this self-abasement that opens the way to exaltation—proof that humility is not a shrinking from greatness, but its path.

What the Church says. God raised up fallen man by the very means that pride despises. Saint Augustine expresses it in a single phrase:

“Man fell through pride; [Divine Wisdom] used humility to raise him up.” — Saint Augustine, De Doctrina Christiana, I, 14^[38]

Where pride lost man—“you will be like gods” (Gn 3:5)—the humility of the Incarnate Word saves him (cf. CCC § 525)^[39]. True dignity is not in refusing to humble oneself, but in the freedom to do so out of love.

Error — “Humility is a minor virtue, merely a matter of good manners”

The last misunderstanding, and the most subtle: humility would be a pleasant but secondary quality—a matter of tact, modesty, or etiquette—far removed from the greatness of faith, hope, or charity. The error is seductive because humility is exercised in hidden and everyday ways, which makes us forget that it is the ground of everything else.

Why this is false. Humility is not just one virtue among others: it is their foundation. Without it, the other virtues collapse, because pride corrupts them at the root.

Tradition hands down under the name of Saint Gregory the Great a saying that says the same thing in its own way: to gather virtues without humility is like carrying dust against the wind^[40].

Saint Augustine goes even further: when asked about the way that leads to God, he gives the same answer three times.

“The first way is humility; the second, humility; the third, humility… every time you ask me, I will give you the same answer.” — Saint Augustine, Letter 118 to Dioscorus, § 22^[41]

And Saint Bernard shows why: the spiritual edifice stands only on this foundation.

“The spiritual edifice can rise only on the solid foundation of humility. Now, to humble oneself, the soul can find no more effective means than true self-knowledge.” — Saint Bernard, Sermons on the Song of Songs, 36^[42]

What the Church says. Humility is even the foundation of prayer. The Catechism states this plainly:

“Humility is the foundation of prayer. ‘We do not know how to pray as we ought’ (Rom 8:26). Humility is the disposition for receiving the gift of prayer freely: man is a beggar before God.” — Catechism of the Catholic Church, § 2559^[43]

In echo — a reported saying, not magisterium. The Book of Heaven says the same thing in its own way, in a royal image — a private saying that illustrates without proving: no grace crosses the threshold without humility.

“No grace leaves my Throne except through humility. No request can be received by Me unless it bears the signature of humility. No prayer is heard by my Ears nor moves my Heart to compassion unless it is perfumed with humility.” — Saying of Jesus reported by Luisa Piccarreta, The Book of Heaven, vol. 3, January 12, 1900^[44]

Far from being a minor virtue, humility is the gateway through which all things pass: grace descends, prayer ascends. On its absolute necessity and the opposite danger, see The necessity of humility and the danger of pride.

Like every virtue, humility stands between two opposing errors. Tradition names them excess—pride, which places itself above the truth—and defect—false humility, or pusillanimity, which lowers itself beneath it. To recognize them is already to better situate the virtue.

Pride — placing oneself above the truth

Pride is not merely noisy vanity: it is, in the broad sense, the refusal of the truth about oneself—attributing to oneself what one has received, preferring oneself to others, making oneself the center. Saint Thomas calls it the root of all sins, because it is the movement by which the will turns away from God to take itself as its end^[45]. It is the pitfall of excess: raising oneself above what one is. “Man fell through pride,” Augustine reminds us—and the whole work of grace is to raise him up again.

False humility — pusillanimity disguised as virtue

On the opposite side, there is a “humility” that is not a virtue. It takes two forms. The first is pusillanimity: out of fear or laziness, one dares nothing, buries one’s talents, shrinks back—and calls “humility” what is merely a lack of heart. The second is the false humility of words: one displays one’s unworthiness to be esteemed, claims to be the least while waiting for a contradiction. In both cases, the exterior deceives: what makes humility is neither apparent self-effacement nor protestations of unworthiness, but truth—seeing oneself as one is before God, neither raising nor lowering oneself. Without this, the most visible abasement is only a counterfeit.

The table below summarizes the main misconceptions and the Catholic truth that responds to them. The left column gives the error in its common formulation; the middle column, why it is false; the right column, the doctrinal reference that corrects it.

Many misconceptions finally arise from confusing humility with its neighboring virtues. It is surrounded by sister virtues that resemble it—modesty, magnanimity, gentleness—but which are not to be confused with it.

Error — “Humility is the same as modesty”

They are mistaken for one another because both restrain self-promotion. But modesty governs the exterior—demeanor, dress, speech, restraint in honors; humility governs the interior—the appetite for one’s own excellence^[46]. One can be modest in manners by calculation or temperament without being humble of heart; and a truly humble person can occupy a prominent position without ceasing to be humble. Modesty is the outward bearing; humility is the truth of the heart.

Error — “Is humility opposed to magnanimity?”

Many consider humility and magnanimity—the virtue of great things—to be opposites. This is the error already encountered, seen here from the angle of the virtues: they are not opposed, they complement each other. Magnanimity considers the greatness God has placed in man and aspires to it; humility considers man’s radical dependence on God and restrains him from presumption^[47]. The same soul can aim high and know itself to be small—indeed, this is the very condition for aiming high without falling.

Error — “Humility is the same as gentleness”

Christ unites them—“meek and humble of heart”—and Scripture often mentions them together. But they do not have the same object: gentleness moderates the movement of anger that rises within us; humility moderates the appetite for our own excellence. One concerns the passion of the irascible, the other self-esteem. They go hand in hand because pride is the root of most anger: he who thinks himself great is irritated at being contradicted. But confusing them impoverishes both. On the twin virtue, see Common Errors Concerning Gentleness.

All these misunderstandings have a common root: humility has been separated from truth—sometimes made into self-deprecation, sometimes a denial of received gifts, sometimes a weakness, sometimes a pose, sometimes a morality of smallness. Restored to itself, humility is none of these things: it is the true gaze that man casts upon himself before God—poor in himself, rich in all that he receives, and finally free from the comparison that torments both the proud and the fainthearted.

Between pride that exalts itself and false humility that debases itself, humility walks the path of truth: to know oneself without lying, to receive one’s gifts without becoming puffed up, to accept one’s abjection without self-contempt, to dare great desires without presumption. This is what Christ gave once and for all to contemplate and to imitate, revealing the secret of His own Heart:

“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” — Gospel according to Saint Matthew 11:29^[48]

Humility is not a diminishment of man: it is his being set in truth, and the only door through which grace descends and prayer ascends. Learning to recognize counterfeit coins is already to prepare oneself to receive true gold: for the voice of the saints on this virtue, see What do the saints say about humility; for the path of its growth, How to grow in humility.

• What do the saints say about humility — a commented anthology of the great sayings of the saints and mystics on humility, from Christ and the Virgin to Teresa of Avila, Bernard, and Thérèse of Lisieux.
• How to grow in humility — the practical path: concrete means, steps, and exercises to make this virtue grow day by day.
• Knowledge of one’s nothingness and humility — why true self-knowledge is the root of humility, and how it opens to trust.
• The necessity of humility and the danger of pride — humility as the foundation of the entire spiritual edifice, and pride as the root of all evils.
• Humility, trust, and our view of sins — how humility, far from discouraging, opens to trust and changes our perspective on our falls.
• Common errors concerning gentleness — the twin virtue, which Christ unites with humility in the same saying of Matthew 11:29.