The Importance of Humility in the Spiritual Life

Jean Khoury

Summary: Humility is indispensable to spiritual growth, but it must be understood in the light of the progressive action of the Holy Spirit in the soul. Humility is both an act and a virtue: an act is a free response to grace, while a virtue develops through repeated acts. Yet this distinction, important as it is, does not explain the whole journey towards holiness. In the early stages of spiritual life, humility is exercised predominantly in the human mode, through our faculties and operations assisted by the grace of God. The decisive crossing into the divine mode takes place through the deep purification of the spirit, the dark night described by St John of the Cross. In this purification, God reaches the roots of our behaviour and transforms the way all the virtues are exercised. They are no longer simply virtues practised through our human mode of operation; they become increasingly divine in their source, form and operation, through the action of the Holy Spirit. St Thérèse of the Child Jesus recognised the revelation of her littleness and powerlessness as one of the greatest graces of her life. Her experience helps us understand that true humility is not merely something we achieve: it is also something God brings about in us.

Keywords: Humility; virtue; act, grace; human mode; divine mode; dark night of the spirit; St John of the Cross; St Thérèse of the Child Jesus; spiritual growth; Holy Spirit, truth.

Introduction

Humility is one of the fundamental virtues of Christian life. Without it, we cannot receive the truth about ourselves, recognise our dependence on God, or allow Him to lead us towards the fullness of love. Scripture repeatedly presents humility as the disposition of the heart that makes a person receptive to God. The proud person relies upon himself; the humble person acknowledges his need for God and turns towards Him.

Yet humility is not a static virtue, acquired once and for all. Like every virtue, it develops throughout the spiritual journey. Moreover, spiritual growth involves more than an increase in the frequency or perfection of our virtuous acts. The Holy Spirit works in us according to different modes, corresponding to the stages of our transformation. This distinction is essential if we are to understand what happens when God leads a person beyond a predominantly human way of acting towards a divine mode of life.

The teaching of St John of the Cross is decisive here. The dark night of the spirit is not simply a period of difficulty, dryness or discouragement. It is a deep purification in which God reaches the roots of the person’s activity, purifying what human effort, even when assisted by grace, cannot fully transform. This purification brings about a decisive transition from the human mode to the divine mode of the Holy Spirit’s action.

This transformation affects every virtue, not humility alone. Charity, faith, hope, obedience, patience, fortitude and humility itself are all changed in their manner of operation. The virtues are no longer exercised predominantly according to the person’s human mode of acting; they become increasingly the expression of God’s own action in the soul.

St Thérèse of the Child Jesus offers a particularly illuminating witness. She understood the discovery of her littleness and powerlessness not as a conclusion she had reached through her own efforts, but as a grace God had given her. Her experience of descent, in which God revealed her utter nothingness, helps us understand the deepest meaning of humility. The person does not merely become better at being humble. God brings the person into the truth of his or her own poverty, so that divine life may be received and expressed more fully.

The purpose of this article is to examine humility in its development, from the free acts through which we cooperate with grace to the deeper transformation accomplished by God in the dark night of the spirit. We shall consider the distinction between act and virtue, the human and divine modes of the Holy Spirit’s action, the witness of Scripture and the Carmelite saints, and the practical consequences for the spiritual life.

1. Humility: both an act and a virtue

Humility is both an act and a virtue, but these two aspects must be distinguished.

An act of humility is a concrete response in which we acknowledge the truth about ourselves before God. We may recognise that we have been mistaken, accept correction, refrain from seeking recognition, acknowledge our weakness, or accept a situation in which our pride is wounded. Such an act can be brief, but it has real significance in the spiritual life.

A virtue, by contrast, is a stable disposition formed through repeated acts. As we respond faithfully to grace, acts of humility can gradually establish a habitual disposition. We become more ready to acknowledge the truth, less dependent on human approval, and more willing to accept our dependence on God.

Nevertheless, the repeated performance of humble acts does not by itself explain the whole development of humility. We must ask not only whether we act humbly, but also in what mode we are acting and what is happening at the roots of our behaviour.

A person may practise humility sincerely and consistently, yet remain attached to the satisfaction of being recognised as humble. We may accept correction but still defend our self-image inwardly. We may serve others while seeking, perhaps without fully realising it, their gratitude or esteem. We may even take satisfaction in our own spiritual progress.

These examples do not mean that the acts are worthless or insincere. They show that the roots of our behaviour may retain forms of self-love that are not easily reached by conscious effort. The person may genuinely desire God while still relying, to some extent, on human supports and ways of operating.

Consequently, we need to distinguish the development of a virtue through repeated acts from the deeper purification through which God transforms the mode in which the virtue is exercised. The first is real progress; the second is a more radical work of grace.

2. The first foundation: humility before God

The starting point of humility is truth. We must learn to see ourselves as we are before God: creatures who have received everything from Him, sinners in need of redemption, and children called to receive His life as a gift.

Humility does not mean despising ourselves, denying the gifts God has given us, or pretending that we have no value. It means acknowledging that whatever is good in us comes ultimately from God, and that we cannot reach holiness by our own power.

St Paul expresses this fundamental truth: “What have you that you did not receive?” (1 Corinthians 4:7). Our existence, our natural capacities, our redemption, and every supernatural gift are received. Even our desire to turn towards God is already sustained by His grace.

This is why humility cannot be separated from gratitude. The humble person does not deny the good that God has accomplished in him or her. Rather, the person acknowledges its true source and gives glory to God.

The tax collector in the parable of Luke 18:9–14 provides a clear biblical example. Standing at a distance, he does not presume to justify himself. He prays, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” Jesus declares that this man, rather than the self-righteous Pharisee, went home justified.

The tax collector’s humility consists in standing before God without self-justification. He does not claim to possess what he needs to receive. He opens himself to mercy.

This initial disposition is essential throughout the spiritual journey. Yet it is only the beginning. The humility of a person who acknowledges his need for God must eventually be purified at a deeper level, until dependence on God is no longer simply a truth consciously affirmed but becomes increasingly the principle governing the person’s entire way of acting.

3. Humility and Truth: Allowing God to Reveal Who We Really Are

Humility and truth are inseparable. We cannot become truly humble without entering more deeply into the truth, and we cannot fully receive the truth about ourselves without growing in humility. Humility is not simply a favourable disposition towards God or a willingness to acknowledge that we are weak. It is a progressive acceptance of the truth about God, about ourselves and about the reality of our relationship with Him.

The first truth is that God is God and we are His creatures. Everything we possess comes from Him. Our existence, our natural gifts, our redemption and our capacity to respond to His love are received. Even our desire for holiness cannot be separated from His grace. Humility begins when we cease to behave as though we were the source of our own goodness and acknowledge our complete dependence on God.

The second truth concerns ourselves. We must learn to see ourselves as God sees us: not through the distorted judgement of pride, nor through discouragement or self-contempt, but in the light of His truth and mercy. This means acknowledging both the good that God has accomplished in us and the poverty, weakness and disordered tendencies that still need to be purified. Humility neither exaggerates our faults nor conceals them. It allows us to stand before God without needing to defend an image of ourselves.

Yet there is a fundamental distinction between knowing a truth intellectually and having that truth revealed and established within us by God. We can affirm that we depend entirely on Him, recognise that we are sinners, and acknowledge that our virtues are imperfect. We can even make sincere efforts to correct our faults. Nevertheless, the roots of our behaviour may remain only partially known to us. We may not recognise how deeply self-love influences our decisions, how much we rely on our own judgement, or how subtly we seek security, recognition and satisfaction even in the practice of virtue.

We can therefore possess a correct theological understanding of humility without yet having been brought into its deepest truth. Our understanding may be right, and our efforts may be sincere, but the roots from which we act can still require purification.

Truth about our behaviour and truth about its roots

It is relatively easy to recognise certain external manifestations of pride. We may notice that we want to have the last word, dislike being corrected, seek recognition or become impatient when our preferences are frustrated. We can work against these tendencies through concrete acts of virtue, and we should do so. This active purification is an essential part of Christian life.

But the spiritual journey cannot stop at the correction of outward behaviour. We must also consider the deeper roots from which our actions arise.

For example, a person may learn to accept correction without arguing, yet remain inwardly preoccupied with how others perceive him. Another may perform acts of service without seeking public recognition, yet still depend on the satisfaction of being needed. Someone may accept suffering with apparent patience while secretly relying on the conviction that he is strong enough to endure it. Even the desire to become holy can become entangled with the wish to be spiritually successful.

These examples do not necessarily invalidate the acts themselves. Nor should we conclude that every good act is secretly motivated by pride. Rather, they show why we cannot fully purify ourselves by observing and correcting our behaviour alone. We may identify some of our motives, but we cannot bring every hidden root of self-love into the light through our own efforts.

The truth that humility requires is therefore deeper than an accurate assessment of our strengths and weaknesses. It concerns the very principle from which we act. The question is not only, “Am I behaving humbly?” but also, “What is the source and mode of my behaviour? How much am I still relying on myself, even when I am doing something good?”

This question leads directly to the distinction between the human and divine modes of the Holy Spirit’s action.

The human mode: truth recognised and pursued

In the human mode, we learn to recognise the truth and respond to it through our faculties, assisted by grace. We examine our conscience, acknowledge our faults, listen to the Word of God, accept correction and make concrete decisions to change our behaviour. We strive to act in accordance with the truth we have received.

This is not an inferior or false form of humility. It is a necessary part of spiritual growth. We must not use the limits of self-knowledge as an excuse for avoiding responsibility. We must acknowledge what we can see, correct what we can correct and cooperate faithfully with the grace God gives us.

Nevertheless, the truth we recognise at this stage does not necessarily reach the deepest roots of our behaviour. We may understand that pride is wrong and still remain attached to our own way of acting. We may acknowledge our dependence on God while continuing to rely practically on our natural capacities. We may know that everything is grace while still behaving as though our spiritual progress depended principally on our own competence.

The discrepancy between what we know and how we actually operate is important. It reveals that intellectual understanding and deliberate effort, although indispensable, do not accomplish the whole work of purification. We need God not only to teach us the truth but also to bring us into it more deeply.

The dark night of the spirit: God reveals the truth at its roots

The decisive crossing from the human mode to the divine mode takes place through the dark night of the spirit described by St John of the Cross. In this purification, God does not merely give us additional information about ourselves. He acts within us, reaching the roots of our behaviour and exposing what remains beyond the reach of ordinary self-knowledge and effort.

This is why the dark night of the spirit must not be reduced to a period of discouragement, emotional dryness or heightened awareness of personal faults. It is a deeper work of God. The person is brought into a truth that cannot be produced by reflection alone because the purification concerns the very manner in which the person knows, wills, loves and acts.

God reveals our poverty in a way that reaches beyond our previous understanding of it. We may have known that we were weak, but now our dependence on Him becomes a more profound interior reality. We may have acknowledged that our virtues were imperfect, but now God purifies the roots from which those virtues were exercised. We may have believed that we had surrendered ourselves to Him, but now He reveals the extent to which we still relied on our own judgement, strength and spiritual achievements.

This can be experienced as a descent. Familiar supports are weakened, our former ways of understanding ourselves may no longer suffice, and we can no longer rely on our previous measures of spiritual progress. Yet the purpose is not humiliation for its own sake. God is leading the person into the truth so that the person can be freed from what prevents a fuller reception of divine life.

The truth revealed in this night is therefore not merely, “I am imperfect.” It is a deeper discovery that I cannot purify the roots of my behaviour by my own power. I need God to accomplish within me what I cannot accomplish alone.

This is the point at which humility itself is transformed. It is no longer only a virtue that I strive to practise in response to the truth I recognise. God brings me into the truth of my own poverty and transforms the way humility is exercised. The virtue becomes increasingly divine in its mode of operation because the Holy Spirit is acting more deeply in the person.

And this transformation is not restricted to humility. God purifies the roots of all the virtues. Faith, hope, charity, patience, obedience and fortitude are all affected, because the purification reaches the underlying mode of the person’s behaviour. The transition is not simply from a lesser degree of virtue to a greater degree. It is a crossing from the human mode towards the divine mode.

St Thérèse: the truth of our nothingness received as a grace

The experience of St Thérèse of the Child Jesus is especially illuminating in this regard. Thérèse did not understand the discovery of her littleness simply as a conclusion she had reached through self-examination. She recognised it as a grace God had given her. The descent into the truth of her own poverty and powerlessness was, for her, one of the greatest graces of her life.

This distinction is essential. We can tell ourselves that we are nothing before God, but the repetition of those words does not necessarily mean that we have entered into the reality they express. We may even take pride in our ability to acknowledge our littleness. The truth must reach deeper than the words we use to describe ourselves.

In Thérèse’s experience, God brought her into the truth of her littleness. This was not an achievement by which she made herself humble. It was a work of God within her, a descent in which she received a more profound knowledge of her own poverty and dependence.

Such a discovery does not mean that the person has no dignity, that human nature is worthless, or that God despises His creature. Thérèse’s littleness must be understood within her confidence in divine love. She discovers that she cannot attain holiness through her own power, but this discovery does not close the way to holiness. It opens her more fully to God’s action.

The paradox is that the deeper she is brought into the truth of her nothingness, the more fully she can entrust herself to God. She no longer needs to present herself as capable of achieving holiness through her own strength. She can receive divine love as a gift and allow God to accomplish His work in her.

This is closely related to St John of the Cross’s teaching on the dark night of the spirit. Both point towards a purification that cannot be reduced to human effort. God reaches the depths of the person and brings about a transformation that the person could not produce independently. We should not assume that the two saints describe every detail of their experience in identical terms, but their teaching converges on the necessity of God’s purifying action.

Thérèse’s witness thus reveals the deepest relationship between humility and truth: the truth of our poverty becomes a transforming grace when God brings us into it. We do not merely think more accurately about ourselves. We are purified in the roots of our behaviour, and humility itself is transformed through the divine mode of the Holy Spirit’s action.

Truth without discouragement or self-condemnation

It is important to distinguish this humility from discouragement. To discover our nothingness does not mean to conclude that we are incapable of receiving God’s love or that our efforts are meaningless. Nor does it mean that we should continually scrutinise ourselves in search of hidden faults.

The purpose of truth is not to imprison us in self-preoccupation. It is to free us from the illusion that we can be the source of our own holiness. When God reveals our poverty, He does so within His call to communion with Him. The truth of our weakness is inseparable from the truth of His mercy.

Authentic humility therefore directs us away from excessive preoccupation with ourselves and towards God. We acknowledge what He reveals, accept the purification He permits, and continue to fulfil our responsibilities. We do not attempt to manufacture an experience of nothingness, nor do we interpret every painful experience as a dark night. The work of discernment remains necessary.

Nor should the language of humility be used to justify abuse, deny genuine human dignity or silence legitimate concerns. Truth requires that we acknowledge reality as it is. Humility does not mean pretending that wrongdoing is acceptable, denying the gifts God has given us, or refusing to speak when justice requires it. It means acting in truth without making ourselves the centre of everything.

The fruit of truth: a deeper freedom to love

The ultimate purpose of humility and truth is love. God reveals our poverty not to leave us preoccupied with ourselves but to free us for a deeper union with Him and a more genuine gift of ourselves to others.

As the roots of our behaviour are purified, we become less dependent on recognition, less attached to our own judgement and less concerned with protecting our spiritual self-image. We become more available to God’s initiative. Our acts of charity can become less entangled with the need for satisfaction or approval; our obedience can become less dependent on whether we agree with the circumstances; and our patience can become less reliant on our own sense of strength.

These changes are not simply the result of greater discipline. They are fruits of the transformation brought about by God. The virtues themselves are purified and increasingly exercised in the divine mode.

Humility and truth therefore belong together throughout the spiritual journey. We must first recognise the truth and act upon it with the help of grace. Yet we must also remain open to the deeper truth that God wishes to reveal and establish within us. In the dark night of the spirit, He reaches the roots of our behaviour and transforms the way we exercise every virtue.

The deepest humility is consequently not merely the ability to admit our weakness. It is the truth of our dependence received as a grace, a truth God works into the depths of our being. Like St Thérèse, we are called to discover that our littleness is not an obstacle to holiness when it is surrendered to God. It becomes the place where we cease to rely on ourselves as the source of our perfection and allow the Holy Spirit to lead us towards the fullness of love.

4. General help of grace and our free response

The distinction between the general help of grace and the particular help of grace helps us understand our responsibility in the early stages of spiritual life.

The general help of grace is not an autonomous human capacity. It is divine assistance that is already present and available, sustaining and moving us towards the good. We respond freely through concrete acts: praying, seeking God, recollecting ourselves, listening to His Word, asking for help, resisting temptation and offering ourselves to Him.

St Thomas Aquinas insists that even our preparation for grace cannot be attributed to ourselves independently of God. In the Summa Theologiae, he explains that a person prepares himself through free will, but does not do so without God moving him and drawing him towards Himself (Summa Theologiae, I–II, q. 109, a. 6, ad 4).

Our cooperation is therefore real, but it is never independent of grace. We are neither passive objects without freedom nor autonomous agents who produce holiness by their own efforts.

The same principle applies to humility. We can make an act of humility, acknowledge our weakness, accept correction, or choose not to defend our reputation. These are genuine human acts, and we are responsible for them. Yet they are made possible by grace, which precedes and sustains our response.

The teaching of St Teresa of Ávila on general and particular help of grace adds another important distinction. In her account of prayer, the general help of grace is associated with the person’s activity in prayer, whereas particular help is associated with a more direct and personal supernatural action of the Holy Spirit, notably in the Prayer of Quiet (Life, 14.6; Interior Castle, Fourth Mansions, 1.1).

The distinction must not be reduced to a transaction in which our acts oblige God to give us a greater grace. God remains free, and His action is gratuitous. We can prepare ourselves and respond to His initiative, but we cannot manufacture His supernatural action.

This distinction between general and particular help of grace is important. Nevertheless, it is not identical to the distinction between the human and divine modes of the Holy Spirit’s action. The latter concerns a more fundamental transformation in the mode in which the Spirit acts in the person and in which the person’s activity is exercised.

5. The human mode: genuine growth, but not yet the decisive transformation

During a substantial part of the spiritual journey, the person grows through conscious acts, sustained effort and cooperation with grace. The person learns to pray, to practise virtue, to resist disordered tendencies, to fulfil the commandments and to orient daily life towards Christ.

This is genuine spiritual growth. The human mode is not a sham, nor does it mean that the Holy Spirit is absent. God is already at work, sustaining the person and assisting his or her operations. Yet the person’s activity remains predominantly human in its mode of operation.

In the case of humility, this mode includes learning to recognise pride, correcting our behaviour, accepting our limitations, practising obedience and serving others without seeking reward. We learn to stop defending ourselves unnecessarily, to listen to others, to admit our mistakes and to place the will of God above our own preferences.

These acts matter. They establish dispositions, expose our weaknesses and prepare us to receive God’s deeper action. But they do not, by themselves, bring about the radical purification of the roots of our behaviour.

A person may become more proficient in spiritual practice and more disciplined in the exercise of virtue without yet having crossed into the divine mode. Indeed, the more accomplished we become, the more subtle our self-love can become. We may begin to rely on our prayer, our knowledge, our sacrifices, our discernment or our reputation for holiness.

The problem is not that these things are necessarily bad. It is that we can unconsciously make them supports for our own security and self-satisfaction. We can become attached to our way of acting, even when that way is outwardly good.

The transition to the divine mode therefore cannot be achieved simply by reinforcing the existing mode. No amount of improving the paper aeroplane will turn it into a Boeing. The analogy used in the School of Mary article on the human and divine modalities illustrates the radical disproportion between a genuinely good human way of acting and the divine mode to which God calls us. The transition requires a new principle of operation, brought about by God, rather than the mere refinement of human capacities.

This is not a rejection of human nature or of the genuine good accomplished through our efforts. Grace does not abolish the human person. Rather, God purifies and transforms the person so that human faculties and virtues can be exercised in a new mode, under the more direct and profound action of the Holy Spirit.

6. The dark night of the spirit: the decisive crossing

The decisive crossing from the human mode to the divine mode takes place through the dark night of the spirit, as described by St John of the Cross.

This night is not simply a period of emotional dryness or a temporary loss of consolation. Nor is it merely a more difficult version of the earlier struggles of the spiritual life. It is a deep purification in which God reaches the roots of the person’s activity.

St John explains that the purification of the spirit is necessary because the purification of the senses alone does not reach every imperfection. Even after considerable progress, the deeper roots of self-love remain. The person may have become less attached to material pleasures and more disciplined in prayer, while still relying on the natural operations of the mind and will, and on subtle forms of spiritual satisfaction.

The dark night of the spirit is God’s work of purification at this deeper level. St John writes that the soul cannot accomplish the necessary purification by its own efforts: God must take it by the hand and purify it in the dark fire (Dark Night, II, 1; I, 3.3).

The experience can be profoundly disorientating. Familiar ways of praying, understanding, choosing and finding security may no longer function as before. The person may lose the supports that previously sustained spiritual activity. Prayer may become obscure; the mind may no longer find its customary clarity; the will may experience aridity; and the person may be unable to measure progress by familiar signs.

These experiences must not be interpreted simplistically. Not every dryness is the dark night of the spirit, and not every difficulty signifies a transition to the divine mode. Discernment is essential. But when God leads a person through this purification, the loss of familiar supports is part of a deeper transformation.

The purpose is not to destroy the virtues but to purify them at their roots. God is not merely teaching the person to perform humble acts more perfectly. He is purifying the source from which the person’s acts arise.

This is the decisive point: the dark night of the spirit changes the mode in which all the virtues are exercised. It is not humility alone that is transformed. Faith, hope, charity, obedience, patience, fortitude and every other virtue are affected, because the purification reaches the roots of the whole person’s behaviour.

The transition is therefore qualitative, not merely quantitative. The person does not simply possess more humility, more patience or more charity. The virtues themselves are increasingly exercised through the divine mode of the Holy Spirit’s action. What was previously performed predominantly through human operations assisted by grace becomes an expression of a deeper divine operation in the soul.

7. From human humility to divine humility

We can now understand more precisely the difference between human humility and divine humility.

In the human mode, a person recognises the importance of humility and strives to practise it. The person acknowledges faults, accepts correction, refrains from seeking praise and tries to serve others without drawing attention to himself. These acts are genuine and necessary. They are not to be despised or bypassed.

Yet the person may still be conscious of himself as the principal agent of these acts. Even while asking for God’s help, he may retain a subtle reliance on his own capacity to understand, choose, correct and improve himself. He may derive satisfaction from his humility or measure his spiritual progress by the increasing success of his efforts.

Divine humility is not simply a more intense form of this same activity. It is humility transformed through the deep action of God. The Holy Spirit purifies the roots of the person’s behaviour, so that humility is no longer exercised predominantly according to the person’s former human mode. It becomes increasingly the expression of God’s action in the person.

This does not mean that God becomes humble in the sense that He needs to be humbled. God is not subject to pride or self-exaltation. Rather, divine humility means that the virtue of humility in the human person is transformed by grace and exercised according to a divine mode. It is a creature’s humility brought to a new depth through participation in God’s life and the action of the Holy Spirit.

The distinction is not between an inferior virtue and a superior moral achievement. It is between two modes of operation. In the first, the person practises humility through human faculties assisted by grace. In the second, after the deep purification of the spirit, the Holy Spirit becomes the more direct principle of the person’s transformed activity.

This is why the dark night cannot be replaced by a programme of intensified self-improvement. We must cooperate with grace, but we cannot accomplish by our own operations the purification that belongs to God’s action. The transition is a gift, not a technique.

The same applies to the other virtues. Divine charity is not merely a greater quantity of affection or generosity; divine patience is not merely the ability to endure more; divine obedience is not merely more efficient compliance. Each virtue is transformed at its roots through the action of the Holy Spirit. Their expression becomes more deeply united to God’s own life and purpose.

8. St Thérèse of the Child Jesus: the grace of discovering one’s littleness

St Thérèse of the Child Jesus provides a particularly powerful illustration of this understanding of humility.

Thérèse did not regard the discovery of her littleness merely as a result of her own reflection or as an achievement of ascetical effort. She recognised it as a grace God had given her. She considered the revelation of her littleness and powerlessness one of the greatest graces of her life (see Act of Oblation: “I thank You, O my God! for all the graces You have granted me, especially the grace of making me pass through the crucible of suffering. It is with joy I shall contemplate You on the Last Day carrying the sceptre of Your Cross.”).

Note: Here is what St Therese says: “For a year and a half, Jesus has wanted to change the way He makes His little flower grow. No doubt He considered it to have been watered sufficiently, for now it is the sun that makes it grow. Jesus wants nothing more for it than His smile, which He continues to give it through you, my beloved Mother. Far from causing the little flower to wither, this gentle sun makes it grow wonderfully. Deep within its calyx, it preserves the precious drops of dew it has received*, and these drops constantly remind it that it is little and weak… All creatures may bend over it, admire it and overwhelm it with their praise; I do not know why, but this could not add a single drop of false joy to the true joy it savours in its heart, seeing itself as it is in the eyes of the Good God: a poor little nothing, nothing more… I say that I do not understand why, but is it not because it was kept safe from the water of praise for as long as its little calyx was not sufficiently filled with the dew of humiliation? Now there is no longer any danger; on the contrary, the little flower finds the dew with which it is filled so delightful that it would be very careful not to exchange it for the insipid water of compliments.” (Ms C, 1v°) *She alludes to the years 1890-1892.

This is a crucial distinction. It is one thing to tell ourselves that we are weak and dependent on God. It is another for God to bring us into the truth of our own poverty through a deep interior purification. In the latter case, humility is not simply an idea we have accepted. It is a truth that God has worked into the roots of our being.

Thérèse’s little way is often associated with confidence, spiritual childhood and the offering of small acts of love. These are essential aspects of her spirituality. Yet her littleness must not be understood merely as a strategy of self-abasement or as a simple decision to perform small things faithfully. Her confidence rests on the truth that she cannot attain holiness through her own power. She needs God to act in her.

The discovery of her weakness did not lead her to despair. It led her towards greater confidence in divine mercy. Her littleness became the place where she could receive God’s love without claiming to possess holiness as her own achievement.

This is the paradox of divine humility: the deeper God brings a person into the truth of his or her nothingness, the more fully that person can receive divine life. Nothingness here does not mean that the human person has no dignity or value. It means that, before God, we possess nothing independently of Him and cannot produce supernatural holiness by ourselves.

Thérèse’s experience of descent must therefore be understood as a work of God within her. God revealed her powerlessness and brought her to a deeper truth about herself. This was not merely the accumulation of further insights or the successful exercise of an already established virtue. It was a grace that touched her at a deeper level.

Her experience is closely related to the dark night of the spirit described by St John of the Cross. The two saints should not be assumed to describe every detail of their experiences in identical terms, but their teaching converges on an essential point: there is a purification that human effort cannot accomplish, in which God reaches the depths of the person and transforms the way the person lives and acts.

The revelation of littleness is therefore not simply one more lesson in humility. It belongs to the deeper purification through which God transforms humility itself. Thérèse did not merely learn to acknowledge her weakness more accurately. She received as a grace the experience of her radical dependence on God.

9. Biblical witnesses to humility

Scripture presents humility in many forms. These examples do not all describe the dark night of the spirit, and they should not be forced into a single spiritual stage. They reveal, rather, the essential dispositions that make up the biblical understanding of humility and help us recognise how God leads a person into deeper dependence on Him.

David: the truth of the sinner before God

Psalm 51 (Psalm 50 in the Vulgate) expresses the prayer of a sinner who no longer attempts to justify himself before God. David asks for mercy, acknowledges his sin and recognises that God desires truth in the inward being.

The psalm culminates in the affirmation that “a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Psalm 51:17). The humble heart does not conceal its poverty from God. It brings that poverty into His presence and asks to be renewed.

This is more than an admission of wrongdoing. It is a willingness to let God establish the truth within us. Yet the full purification of the roots of our behaviour remains God’s work. Our confession and repentance are essential responses, but we cannot bring about the entire transformation of the heart by ourselves.

Bartimaeus: persistence in asking for mercy

In Mark 10:46–52, Bartimaeus, the blind beggar, cries out to Jesus, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Others rebuke him and tell him to be silent, but he cries out all the more.

Bartimaeus does not allow the judgement of others to prevent him from seeking the mercy he needs. He acknowledges his need and directs himself towards Jesus. His persistence expresses faith and humility: he knows that he cannot give himself the sight he lacks, and he continues to ask the Lord for help.

Jesus asks him what he wants. Bartimaeus answers that he wants to recover his sight, and Jesus heals him. The story illustrates the importance of recognising our need and responding to the Lord’s initiative with faith.

The Canaanite woman: humility that perseveres

In Matthew 15:21–28, the Canaanite woman asks Jesus to heal her daughter. Her response to the apparent obstacles in the conversation reveals extraordinary perseverance and humility. She does not claim entitlement; she continues to trust in His mercy.

Her humility is not passive resignation. She remains engaged, speaks honestly and persists in asking. She recognises that the gift she seeks comes from Jesus and continues to place her hope in Him.

This example helps us distinguish humility from weakness of character or the suppression of legitimate needs. Humility can be courageous and persistent because it is grounded in trust rather than self-sufficiency.

Mary: receptivity to God’s initiative

Mary’s response at the Annunciation offers an essential model of humility. She receives the word of God, asks how it will be fulfilled, and then gives her consent: “Let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38).

Her response is neither an attempt to control God’s action nor a refusal to exercise her freedom. She listens, receives and freely consents. Her Magnificat later proclaims that God “has looked upon the lowliness of his handmaid” (Luke 1:48).

Mary’s humility shows the relationship between receptivity and action. She gives herself freely, yet the initiative belongs to God. Her example directs us towards the deepest principle of spiritual growth: our freedom is fulfilled, not abolished, when we receive God’s initiative and correspond to it.

10. Humility as the space for God’s action

We may now return to the image of humility as creating space for God. The image remains valuable, provided that we understand it correctly.

Humility makes us receptive because it removes the pretence that we can achieve holiness independently of God. It allows us to acknowledge our need, receive His gifts and accept His purification. It frees us, progressively, from the demand to control our spiritual progress or to measure God’s action according to our own expectations.

However, humility does not force God to act. It is not a technique for obtaining particular graces, nor does it place God under an obligation to grant us a supernatural experience. God’s action remains free and gratuitous.

Our task is to cooperate with the grace already given, to respond faithfully to the light we receive, and to remain open to the deeper work God may undertake in us. We cannot manufacture the dark night of the spirit, nor can we cross into the divine mode by a deliberate act of will. We can, however, learn not to resist God’s purification, and we can seek guidance when our familiar ways of acting and praying are disrupted.

This requires discernment. Spiritual dryness, suffering or the loss of consolation cannot automatically be identified with the dark night of the spirit. These experiences have different causes, and their meaning must be discerned carefully. St John of the Cross warns us, in effect, against judging the presence or absence of God’s action solely by our feelings. God may be acting most deeply precisely when the person no longer experiences the familiar signs of progress.

The humble person therefore learns to accept not only the truth about personal weakness but also the limits of personal understanding. We cannot always explain what God is doing within us. We must remain faithful to Him, continue to live the Gospel, and seek sound spiritual guidance.

Ultimately, the space humility creates is not an empty space that we control. It is the openness of a person who is willing to be led by God beyond the limits of familiar ways of thinking and acting.

11. Discussion: humility and the transformation of all the virtues

The foregoing account has several important consequences for spiritual theology.

First, humility cannot be treated simply as one virtue among others, isolated from the rest of the spiritual life. It is closely related to the way a person receives grace, acknowledges dependence on God and responds to His initiative. The purification of humility therefore has implications for every other virtue.

Secondly, the distinction between human and divine modes prevents us from confusing spiritual progress with increasing proficiency in religious practice. A person may pray more regularly, exercise greater self-control and perform acts of service with greater consistency. These are genuine goods. Yet the deepest transformation of holiness requires more than the improvement of existing capacities. It requires God’s action at the roots of the person’s behaviour.

Thirdly, the dark night of the spirit must be understood as a decisive transition, not merely as another difficulty to be overcome through stronger willpower. The person must continue to cooperate with grace, but the purification required for the divine mode is accomplished by God. St John of the Cross insists on the insufficiency of human effort alone for the final purification that prepares the soul for union.

Fourthly, the divine mode does not eliminate human freedom or make human acts irrelevant. The person remains responsible for responding to God. Rather, the person’s freedom is increasingly purified and brought into correspondence with the Holy Spirit’s action. The transformation is not the replacement of the human person by God, but the transformation of the person’s way of acting through participation in divine life.

Finally, St Thérèse’s experience helps us understand why the discovery of our nothingness can be a great grace. It strips away the illusion that holiness is our own achievement and prepares us to receive God’s action more fully. Her experience should not be reduced to a general psychological lesson about low self-esteem or weakness. It belongs to a theological understanding of grace, purification and the transformation of the person in God.

The deepest humility is thus not simply the ability to say, “I am weak.” It is the truth of that weakness revealed and worked into the person by God, so that the person can live with greater freedom, confidence and receptivity to divine love.

12. Theoretical consequences

The distinction between the human and divine modes has a direct bearing on how we understand virtue.

A virtue is not defined only by the external act it produces. Two acts may look similar from the outside while differing in their interior source and mode of operation. Two people may serve others, accept correction or endure suffering, yet the spiritual reality of their acts may differ according to their dispositions, the grace at work in them and the degree of their transformation.

This does not mean that we can reliably classify another person’s spiritual state from external observation. Nor does it mean that we should dismiss the goodness of ordinary acts performed in the human mode. It means that a theology of virtue must attend to the interior transformation of the person, not only to the observable act.

The human and divine modes are therefore not merely quantitative degrees of the same operation. The crossing is qualitative. The divine mode involves a new principle of operation through the action of the Holy Spirit. This is why the dark night of the spirit is so important: it purifies the roots of the person and prepares the way for a transformed manner of knowing, willing, loving and acting.

Humility illustrates this principle particularly well. In the human mode, the person practises humility through conscious acts, with the help of grace. In the divine mode, humility is increasingly formed and exercised through the direct action of the Holy Spirit in the transformed person. The virtue is not discarded; it is brought to a new mode of operation.

The same principle applies to all the virtues. Divine charity, divine patience and divine obedience are not simply the result of performing their corresponding acts with greater frequency or intensity. They are virtues transformed through the deeper action of God. Their divine character is not produced by the human person, but received through grace.

The distinction between general and particular help of grace remains important within this account, but it should not be confused with the distinction between human and divine modes. The former helps us understand different forms of divine assistance; the latter concerns the transformation in the mode of the Holy Spirit’s action as the spiritual journey advances.

13. Practical consequences for the spiritual life

What, then, should we do?

We must continue to practise humility through concrete acts. We should acknowledge our mistakes, accept correction, resist the desire for praise, fulfil our duties, serve others, and ask God for help. We should not use the teaching on the divine mode as an excuse to abandon effort or to wait passively for God to act.

At the same time, we must not imagine that repeated acts alone can accomplish the deepest purification. We need to recognise the limitations of our own operations and remain receptive to the action of the Holy Spirit. The purpose of ascetical effort is not to establish our independence but to cooperate with grace and prepare ourselves to receive God’s transforming work.

We should also learn to recognise the subtle ways in which self-love can remain within apparently virtuous acts. Do we serve others because we love them, or because we need to be appreciated? Do we accept correction because we seek the truth, or because we wish to appear teachable? Do we practise prayer to meet God, or because we rely on the satisfaction and security it gives us? These questions are not intended to produce endless self-analysis. They help us bring our behaviour honestly before God.

When familiar supports are removed and prayer becomes obscure, we should avoid drawing hasty conclusions. We should not assume that God has abandoned us, nor should we automatically interpret every difficulty as a mystical purification. Faithfulness to the Gospel, sound spiritual direction and patient discernment remain essential.

Above all, we should ask for the grace to receive the truth about ourselves from God. St Thérèse teaches us that the discovery of our littleness need not lead to discouragement. When it is received as a grace, it becomes the basis for deeper confidence. We no longer need to pretend that we can make ourselves holy. We can offer God our poverty and allow Him to accomplish in us what we cannot accomplish alone.

The practical goal is not to manufacture divine humility. It is to practise humility faithfully in response to grace, to accept God’s purification, and to remain available to the deeper transformation through which the Holy Spirit changes the mode of our entire spiritual life.

Conclusion

Humility is both an act and a virtue. We begin by making concrete acts of humility, responding freely to the help of God’s grace. Through repeated acts, a stable disposition can develop. This is genuine and necessary progress, but it does not exhaust the meaning of humility in the spiritual life.

The decisive crossing from the human mode to the divine mode takes place through the dark night of the spirit, in which God purifies the roots of our behaviour. This is not simply an increase in virtue. It is a transformation in the mode through which all the virtues are exercised. Humility, charity, patience, obedience and the other virtues are increasingly formed and expressed through the divine action of the Holy Spirit.

St John of the Cross teaches that this purification cannot be accomplished by human effort alone. God must take the person into the depths and purify what remains beyond the reach of ordinary operations. St Thérèse of the Child Jesus offers a luminous witness to this grace in her discovery of her littleness and powerlessness. She understood this descent as a gift from God, not as an achievement of her own. The revelation of her nothingness became a source of confidence because it opened her more fully to divine love.

True humility, therefore, is not simply the result of becoming increasingly skilled at performing humble acts. It is also the work of God, who brings us into the truth of our dependence and transforms the roots of our activity. We cooperate with grace, but we do not produce this transformation. We practise humility, but we must also allow God to purify and transform humility itself.

The deepest lesson is that holiness is not merely a more accomplished version of our own human activity. It is the life of God communicated to us through grace. Our task is to respond faithfully, remain open to His action, and allow the Holy Spirit to lead us from the human mode towards the divine mode, until our entire life becomes increasingly an expression of the love of Christ.

Footnotes

1. St Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, I–II, q. 109, a. 6, especially ad 4. Aquinas teaches that a person prepares himself through free will, but not without God moving him and drawing him towards Himself.
2. St Teresa of Ávila, Life, ch. 14, §6. Teresa discusses the distinction between general and particular help of grace and the need for theological understanding of these forms of divine assistance.
3. St Teresa of Ávila, Interior Castle, Fourth Mansions, ch. 1, §1. See also the wider discussion of prayer and the soul’s development throughout the Interior Castle.
4. St John of the Cross, Dark Night, Book I, ch. 3, §3; Book II, ch. 1. John explains the need for God’s deeper purification and the transition towards union with Him.
5. St John of the Cross, Dark Night, Book II. The dark night of the spirit is the deeper purification of the spiritual part of the person, preparing the soul for divine union.
6. St Thérèse of the Child Jesus, Story of a Soul, especially the account of her confidence in God and her recognition of her littleness and powerlessness. The precise wording varies between translations; quotations should be checked against the edition selected for publication.
7. Mark 10:46–52; Matthew 15:21–28; Luke 18:9–14; Luke 1:26–38, 46–55; Psalm 51; 1 Corinthians 4:7.
8. Catechism of the Catholic Church, §§1996–2003, on grace and the gratuitous gift of divine life.
9. Jean Khoury, “The Five Modes of Activity of the Holy Spirit,” School of Mary. The article presents the relationship between the stages of spiritual growth and the changing modes of the Holy Spirit’s action.
10. Jean Khoury, “‘Bicycle–Rocket’ or ‘Paper Airplane–Boeing’? Human and Divine Modalities of the Holy Spirit’s Action,” School of Mary. The article develops the distinction between human and divine modes and the radical transformation involved in the transition.

Bibliography

Aquinas, Thomas. Summa Theologiae, I–II, q. 109, a. 6. Available at: https://www.newadvent.org/summa/2109.htm

Catechism of the Catholic Church. Sections 1996–2003. Available at: https://www.vatican.va/archive/ENG0015/_INDEX.HTM

John of the Cross, St. Dark Night of the Soul. Book I and Book II. Available at: https://ccel.org/ccel/john_cross/dark_night.all.html

Teresa of Ávila, St. Interior Castle. Available at: https://www.ccel.org/ccel/teresa/castle2.html

Teresa of Ávila, St. The Life of St Teresa of Jesus, especially ch. 14.

Thérèse of the Child Jesus, St. Story of a Soul: The Autobiography of St Thérèse of Lisieux. Use the edition selected for publication to verify quotations and section references.

Khoury, Jean. “The Particular Help of the Grace of God in St Teresa of Ávila.” School of Mary. https://schoolofmary.org/more-on-the-particular-help-of-the-grace-of-god-in-st-teresa-of-avila/

Khoury, Jean. “St Thomas Aquinas’ Explanation.” School of Mary. https://schoolofmary.org/3-st-thomas-aquinas-explanation/

Khoury, Jean. “‘Bicycle–Rocket’ or ‘Paper Airplane–Boeing’? Human and Divine Modalities of the Holy Spirit’s Action.” School of Mary. https://schoolofmary.org/bicyclerocket-or-paper-airplaneboeing-human-and-divine-modalities-of-the-holy-spirits-action/

Khoury, Jean. “The Five Modes of Activity of the Holy Spirit.” School of Mary. https://schoolofmary.org/the-five-modes-of-activity-of-the-holy-spirit/

Guillet, Louis, OCD. Mode humain, mode divin chez St Jean de la Croix. Cahier 1, School of Mary. https://schoolofmary.org/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/Cahier1-MHMD-complete-par-les-conf-manquantes.pdf