Humility as Doxological Contrition:
The Foundation of the Christian Life

by Assoc. Professor Philip Kariatlis (Sub-Dean)

The profound beauty and richness of the Orthodox tradition lies in the fact that it not only sheds light on the correct meaning of the Christian faith—‘Orthodoxy’ literally means ‘correct belief’—but in that it also provides the means by which the faithful may attain the ultimate goal: a living and intimate experience of Christ. The Church does not simply impart knowledge about God, but she provides all the necessary ‘spiritual tools’ through which our Lord may be encountered.  In all her wisdom, the Church guides and equips the faithful so that they may ascend the spiritual mountain and come into the presence of the crucified and risen Lord, our ‘inexpressible gladness’, delight and eternal joy”!

With respect to this ascent towards Christ, the gift of humility lies at the very heart of the Christian journey. For this reason, it is identified by the Fathers of the Church as the pre-eminent gift upon which all other spiritual virtues can be cultivated and sustained. St John Climacus, for example observes that “the remedy for all the passions… is humility. Those who possess this virtue have won the whole battle.”[1] Elsewhere he writes: “Repentance lifts a man; mourning knocks at heaven’s gate. Humility opens it.”[2]Without humility, even the most admirable practices of the Christian life can easily become distorted, especially through pride. With the gift of humility, however, the human heart becomes open to the transforming presence of God’s grace, through which the person is inwardly renewed and profoundly transfigured.  

It is not without significance that the sacred period of Holy and Great Lent begins and concludes with a teaching, by the Church, on humility. At the opening of the Triodion, in preparation for Lent, the Church sets before us the parable of the Publican and the Pharisee precisely to draw attention to the primacy and indispensability of humility for the Christian life. At the culmination of the Lenten journey on Holy and Great Friday, the image of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ suspended on the Cross stands as the supreme revelation of God’s “extreme humility [ἄκραταπείνωσις]” inviting us also to follow this divine example.

In God’s self-emptying—manifested most profoundly through his willing descent into suffering and death—the immeasurable depth of divine humility is revealed, and it is precisely through this, that the salvation of humanity is accomplished. It is therefore not surprising that humility occupies such a central place in the Christian life, for it stands at the very heart of Christ’s earthly ministry and self-revelation.

St Isaac the Syrian—a most widely revered 7^th century ascetic father of the Church—offers a most comprehensive vision on humility (as do other fathers of course, such as St Dorotheos of Gaza, St John Climacus et al.). In a penetrating statement on humility, St Isaac explicitly highlights the significance of humility for the Christian life; indeed, seeing it as the end goal in our life to encounter Christ. In Homily 57 of his work titled Ascetical Homilies, he writes:

“If you practice an excellent virtue… do not marvel… The reward is not the virtue, nor for the struggle [to acquire] virtue, but the humility that is born.”

This striking passage reminds us that the goal of the spiritual life is not merely the acquisition, or the outward display of virtues, but the inner transformation of the human person through humility. Here, St Isaac deliberately redirects our attention away from the visible or ‘outward’ accomplishments of the Christian life toward the hidden disposition that those struggles are intended to cultivate.

That is, it is precisely through the practice of introspection—namely, the deliberate turning inward to examine our thoughts, motives, feelings, and the inner movements of the heart and soul—that this “good change” (καλή ἀλλοίωσις) or genuine inner transformation can take place. Interestingly, while modern psychology, whose emergence is generally attributed to the late 19^th century, speaks of the importance of such inward reflection, this practice was already profoundly cultivated within the ascetical tradition of the early Church.

According to the saint, the struggle for virtue is not the virtue itself, nor even the effort expended in acquiring it, but the humility that arises from the recognition of one’s dependence upon God. Similarly, St John Climacus writes: “God is made manifest not in labours but in simplicity and in humility.”[3] In this sense, virtues without humility are not only of little spiritual benefit; they may even become spiritually dangerous.[4] We could perhaps go further and conclude that whilst a humble person seemingly lacking in other virtues may experience God, a person with all the virtues in the world, yet without humility, will not encounter Him.

The reason for this is that when virtue is detached from humility, it can subtly give rise to self-sufficiency, self-admiration, and ultimately pride. The Christian life may then become a means of self-exaltation rather than a path of communion with God. What should have led to gratitude and reverence may instead foster the illusion that holiness has been achieved by one’s own strength. On the other hand, only a humble heart is able to recognise the workings of grace and God’s mercy thereby inviting the liberating presence of God in their life.

To the extent, then, that the goal of the Christian life is to be led into the presence of God, humility becomes the indispensable key for attracting God’s grace and opening the heart to the fragrant horizons of God’s liberating presence in our life. The Scriptures make it clear that God Himself reveals a profound humility, and it is precisely this divine disposition that calls and invites us to cultivate a corresponding humility of heart. In St Matthew’s Gospel, for example, we read: “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens…and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” (Mt 11:28-29). Accordingly, in striving towards humility, we come to discern the humility of God and His presence in our life, giving rise to inner peace or ‘rest for our souls’, that transcends all worldly disturbances and turmoil that we see and experience around us.

Having highlighted the centrality and indispensability of humility for the Christian life, a question may justifiably arise: what precisely is humility? And this is of great importance especially in light of the fact that humility is often misunderstood as a weakness of character today. Right from the outset it must be said that this, it most definitely is not! Humility is not a form of self-contempt; nor is it feeling bad about ourselves. It most certainly is not a denial of the spiritual gifts (namely the charisms) that God has bestowed upon us all especially through our Baptism. Moreover, humility is not timidity or self-contempt, nor is it a false modesty that appears to reject praise, but quietly—and even actively—seeks it. Such notions of humility are self-centred and are entirely incongruent with the way that the Fathers of the Church understood humility.

Far from being seen as a weakness, it could easily be said that there is no greater power than humility, to the extent that true humility is the gift of being able to see yourself for who you truly are before God: a creature brought forth from non-being into existence through an act of divine love. Indeed, God’s love is so immeasurably great that even when we wander far away from his presence, God’s love towards us remains steadfast and unwavering. Moreover, many within the ascetic tradition speak of the ability to genuinely know our weaknesses and sins is far greater than raising the dead.

Together with true knowledge of self, a humble person is also acutely aware of God’s love. In the Divine Liturgy, we hear that God “left nothing undone until He raised us up to heaven and bestowed on us His kingdom to God” revealing the extent of God’s benevolence and beneficence. Humility is born precisely from this recognition: that God loves us to such a great extent; that we are sustained by His infinite mercy; that even though we are finite, frail and fleeting, He never gives up on us. But for this to happen, we need to take the time, in a spirit of openness, soberness and meekness, to search deep within to discover the precious ‘image of God’ that is within all people.

When the human heart truly begins to grasp this truth, it is opened, in silent awe and wonder, in reverent amazement and gratitude, before the God who never abandons His creation but, on the contrary, remains steadfast in His loving resolve towards each one of us. The recognition that God continues to love us—even in our weakness and wandering, beyond our sinfulness—awakens within the soul a profound sense of sheer astonishment. We perhaps might even ask ourselves: ‘How is that continues to love me beyond my inherent sinfulness?’ Indeed, ‘why has He not given up on me, but continues to love me?’ It is precisely this realisation—this overwhelming awareness of God’s unfailing love—that has the power to captivate the human heart in liberating it.

And such a realisation does not leave us unchanged. When a person with humility perceives the depth of God’s love, especially in the face of their own sinfulness, they are moved simultaneously in two directions. On the one hand, they are led to a deep and sincere sense of sorrow and contrition at the recognition that they have wounded the One who loves them so completely. On the other hand, the very certainty of His unyielding love awakens within such humble people an irrepressible desire to offer God thanksgiving, praise, and glory. Sorrow and gratitude thus arise together; contrition becomes inseparable from praise. It is in this sense that humility may rightly be understood as giving rise to a state of doxological contrition. It is a humble person who—illumined by the extent of their unworthiness before God and God’s steadfast love at the same time—never stops from seeking to offer praise and glory to God for all things!

Let us therefore remain in hope and pray, asking with persistence—just like the tenacious widow in the parable of St Luke’s Gospel who would not cease pleading before the judge and her wishes were granted—that God may grant us the precious gift of humility. For it is only through such a gift that we are able to see ourselves truthfully before Him, recognising our own faults rather than judging those around us. In this spirit, the Church places upon our lips especially during Great Lent the prayer of St Ephraim the Syrian: “Yes, O Lord and King, grant me to see my own sins and not to judge my brother, for You are blessed unto the ages of ages. Amen.”

About the Author

Associate Professor Philip Kariatlis Sub-Dean of St Andrew's Greek Orthodox Theological College Associate Professor Philip Kariatlis is Academic Director and Associate Professor in Theology at St Andrew's. After taking an undergraduate degree in Theology from St Andrew's, he graduated from the University of Sydney with a degree in Arts, majoring in Modern Greek. He received a Master of Theology and a doctorate from the Sydney College of Divinity, where he studied under Professor Gerard Kelly. His doctorate was in the area of ecclesiology where he examined the notion of koinonia ... Read author's full bio here..

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