The associated reading for this reflection can be found in your Every Sacred Sunday Mass journal or online here.
Today’s Gospel focuses on the virtue of humility, as Jesus responds to James and John’s request to be honored alongside Him. They are missing the point of Jesus’s mission (as the apostles so often do), but in a sense their attitude is all too relatable. We see in them a hunger for recognition and validation that is universal to the human experience.
The Litany of Humility is one of those prayers that sounds like a nice idea but is hard to actually pray. It’s all too easy to tune out the meaning of the words, because what they demand seems impossible. Do I really mean it when I say, “From the desire of being loved, deliver me, O Jesus”? Am I bold enough to utter the words, “That others may be chosen and I set aside, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it,” and actually want God to answer that prayer? Not really, if I’m being honest. This is a prayer that cuts right to the core of our insecurities, and it hurts. But that’s also what makes it so powerful.
All the things we pray that God would free us from in the Litany of Humility, all these things we cling to so tightly—love, honor, praise, esteem, attention, approval—are exactly the things that make us miserable and enslave us to the world. The Lord wants to lift us beyond the bounds of earthly happiness, and yet we cling to these burdens that keep us tethered down. But when we realize that these are the roots of our greatest misery, we will begin to loosen our grip on them and begin to discover what truly fulfills us.
The holiest and most genuinely joyful people I have ever known are also the most humble. I think of my grandmother, who despite the hardship she experienced as a widow, served her family devotedly in countless small ways throughout her life and brought joy to each person she met. I think of the Sisters of Life I am blessed to volunteer with, who give their lives to walk alongside mothers and children in need; every time I speak with one of them, I experience their reverence for the gift of each person they encounter. When someone is able to be fully present to those around them and serve without counting the cost, it is powerful. Through their presence, they reveal to us a glimpse of God’s selfless love for us. Those among us who are truly great are indeed those who embrace the heart of a servant.
In order to truly pray the Litany of Humility, we cannot fix our eyes on what we might lose: esteem, power, authority, good public opinion, comfort, fitting in, a simple, uneventful life. Instead, we must fix our eyes on what, in Christ, we will always gain. He has walked this path before us, and He will not lead us astray. As He gave His life for us, so too we are called to lay down our lives to gain something far greater.
Erin Cain lives in New York City and works in book publishing. A graduate of the University of Notre Dame, she faithfully cheers on the marching band on football Saturdays and gets way too invested in March Madness. You can find her on Instagram or at her blog, Work in Progress.