On True and False Humble-Mindedness (Part 1)

“Let no one defraud you of your prize by insisting on self-abasement” (Col. 2:18), said the holy Apostle Paul.

True humble-mindedness consists in obedience and following after Christ (Phil. 2:5–8).

True humble-mindedness is spiritual understanding. It is a gift of God; it is the working of Divine grace in the mind and heart of a person.

There can also be a voluntary humble-mindedness: it is fabricated for itself by the vainglorious soul, the soul deluded and deceived by false teaching, the soul that flatters itself, the soul that seeks flattery from the world, the soul entirely bent on earthly advancement and earthly pleasures, the soul that has forgotten eternity and God.

Voluntary, self-invented humble-mindedness consists of countless varied artifices by which human pride strives to capture the glory of humble-mindedness from a world blinded to its own—a world that loves its own, a world that extols vice when vice is clothed in the guise of virtue, a world that hates virtue when virtue stands before its gaze in its holy simplicity, in its holy and firm submission to the Gospel.

Nothing is so hostile to the humility of Christ as self-willed humble-mindedness—which has cast off the yoke of obedience to Christ and, under cover of hypocritical service to God, sacrilegiously serves Satan.

If we unceasingly contemplate our own sin, if we strive to discern it in detail, we shall find within ourselves no virtue at all—and we shall find no humble-mindedness either.

True holy virtue is covered by true humility: as a chaste maiden covers her beauty with a veil; as the Holy of Holies is concealed from the gaze of the people by a curtain.

True humble-mindedness is the Gospel’s character, the Gospel’s disposition, the Gospel’s cast of thought.

True humility is a Divine mystery: it is inaccessible to human comprehension. Being the highest wisdom, it appears as foolishness to the carnal mind.

The Lord Jesus discloses the Divine mystery of humility to his faithful disciple—to one who ceaselessly sits at his feet and attends to his life-giving words. And when disclosed, it remains hidden: it is inexpressible in earthly word and tongue. To the carnal mind it is incomprehensible; it is incomprehensibly comprehended by the spiritual mind, and when comprehended it remains incomprehensible.

Humility is heavenly life on earth.

The gracious and wondrous vision of the greatness of God and of God’s countless benefits to humanity, the gracious knowledge of the Redeemer and following him in self-denial, the sight of the ruinous abyss into which the human race has fallen—these are the invisible marks of humility, these are the first chambers of that spiritual palace built by the God-man.

Humility does not see itself as humble. On the contrary, it sees within itself a multitude of pride. It is concerned to seek out all pride’s branches; and in seeking them out, it perceives that there is still very much more to seek.

The Venerable Macarius of Egypt, surnamed by the Church “the Great” for the excellence of his virtues—and especially for his profound humility—a Father bearing the sign and bearing the Spirit, declared in his exalted, holy, and mystical Homilies, that even the most pure and perfect person has in himself something of pride.[1]

This pleaser of God attained the highest degree of Christian perfection;[2] he lived in times abounding in saints; he saw Anthony the Great, the greatest of holy monks—and he said that he had not seen a single person who could fully and in the strict sense of the word be called perfect.

False humility sees itself as humble: it foolishly and pitiably takes comfort in this deceptive, soul-destroying spectacle.

Satan takes on the form of a bright Angel; his apostles take on the form of the Apostles of Christ (2 Cor. 11:13–14); his teaching assumes the appearance of the teaching of Christ; the states produced by his deceptions take on the appearance of spiritual, grace-filled states: his pride and vainglory, and the self-delusion and spiritual delusion they produce, assume the appearance of the humility of Christ.

Alas! Where do they hide from these unhappy dreamers—dreamers disastrously content with themselves and with their states of self-delusion, dreamers who think they are enjoying delight and blessedness—where do the words of the Saviour hide from them: “Blessed are those who weep now, blessed are those who hunger now”, and “woe to you who are satisfied now, woe to you who laugh now” (Lk. 6:21, 25).

Look more intently, look impartially at your own soul, most beloved brother! Is not repentance more truly fitting for it than pleasure? Is it not more truly fitting for it to weep on earth, in this vale of sorrows appointed precisely for weeping, than to devise for oneself untimely, seductive, absurd, and ruinous pleasures!

Repentance and weeping over sins bestow everlasting blessedness: this is known; this is certain; this has been proclaimed by the Lord. Why, then, do you not plunge into these holy states, not abide in them, but instead devise pleasures for yourself, satisfy yourself with them, content yourself with them, and by them extinguish in yourself the blessed hunger and thirst for God’s righteousness, and the blessed and saving grief over your sins and sinfulness?

The hunger and thirst for God’s righteousness are witnesses to poverty of spirit; weeping is the expression of humility, its very voice. The absence of weeping, being filled with oneself, and taking pleasure in one’s own seemingly spiritual state—these expose the pride of the heart.

Fear lest, for the sake of an empty and seductive pleasure, you inherit the eternal woe promised by God to those who are now filled by their own self-will, contrary to the will of God.

Vainglory and its offspring—false spiritual pleasures operating in a soul not penetrated by repentance—construct a phantom of humility. This phantom replaces true humility for the soul. The phantom of truth, having taken possession of the soul’s dwelling, bars all the entrances of that dwelling to Truth itself.

Alas, my soul—a temple of truth built by God! — having received within yourself the phantom of truth, having bowed down before a lie in place of Truth, you become a shrine of idols!

In this shrine of idols an idol has been set up: the “conceit” of humility. “The conceit of humility” is the most terrible form of pride. Pride is driven out with difficulty even when a man recognizes it as pride; but how shall he drive it out when it appears to him to be his humility?

In this shrine there is a grievous abomination of desolation! In this shrine the incense of idol-worship is diffused; hymns are sung there which gladden hell. The thoughts and emotions of the soul feast on the forbidden food offered to idols, and drink wine mixed with deadly poison. The shrine—the habitation of idols and all manner of uncleanness—is inaccessible not only to Divine grace, to spiritual gifts, but to any true virtue, to any Gospel commandment.

False humility so blinds a man that it compels him not only to think of himself, to hint to others, that he is humble, but to say this openly, to proclaim it aloud.536.[3]

Lies mock us cruelly when, deceived by them, we take them for truth.

Gracious humility is invisible, as invisible is God, its bestower. It is covered by silence, simplicity, sincerity, effortlessness, and freedom.

False humility is always accompanied by a contrived exterior: by which it advertises itself.

False humility loves theatrical scenes: by them it deceives and is itself deceived. The humility of Christ is clothed in a tunic and robe (Jn. 19:24), in the most artless garment: covered by this garment, it goes unrecognized and unnoticed by people.

Humility is a pledge in the heart, a holy and nameless property of the heart, a Divine habit, born imperceptibly in the soul through the fulfillment of the Gospel commandments.537.[4]

The action of humility may be compared to the action of the passion of avarice. One infected with the infirmity of faith and love for corruptible treasures, the more he accumulates them, the more greedy and insatiable he becomes for them. The richer he grows, the poorer and more deficient he appears to himself. So it is with one guided by humility: the more he grows rich in virtues and spiritual gifts, the more impoverished and insignificant he becomes in his own eyes.

This is natural. When a man has not yet tasted the higher good, his own good—tainted as it is by sin—has value in his eyes. But when he has partaken of the Divine and spiritual good, his own good, intermingled and mixed with evil, loses all value in his eyes.

A poor man prizes his purse of copper coins, gathered over a long time with toil and weariness. A rich man unexpectedly pours into his lap a countless number of pure gold coins, and the poor man casts away the purse of coppers with contempt, as a burden that only weighs him down.

The righteous and much-suffering Job, having endured fierce temptations, was granted the vision of God. Then he said to God in inspired prayer: “I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear; but now my eye sees You.” — And what fruit was born in the soul of the righteous man from this vision of God? “Therefore,” Job continues and concludes his prayer, “I abhor myself and repent; I account myself earth and ashes.” (Job 42:5–6).

Do you wish to acquire humility? — Fulfill the Gospel commandments: together with them, holy humility—that is, the properties of our Lord Jesus Christ—will come to dwell in your heart and become native to it.

The beginning of humility is poverty of spirit; the middle stage of progress in it is the peace of Christ that surpasses all understanding and comprehension; and its end and perfection is the love of Christ.

Humility never grows angry, never seeks to please people, never gives itself to grief, fears nothing.

Can he give himself to grief who has in advance acknowledged himself to be worthy of every sorrow?

Can he be frightened by misfortune who has in advance devoted himself to sorrows, who regards them as a means of his salvation?

The servants of God loved the words of the wise thief who was crucified beside the Lord. In their sorrows they were accustomed to say: “We receive what is due for our deeds; remember” us, “O Lord, in Your Kingdom.” (Lk. 23:41–42).[4] Every sorrow they greet with the acknowledgment that they are worthy of it.538.

Holy peace enters their hearts upon the words of humility! It brings a cup of spiritual consolation to the sickbed, to the prisoner in his cell, to those persecuted by people, and to those persecuted by demons.

The cup of consolation is brought by the hand of humility even to one crucified on the cross; the world can offer him only “vinegar mixed with gall” (Mt. 27:34).