The Irony of Humility

 

(Twenty-second Sunday of the Year (C): This homily was given on August 31, 2025 St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Sirach 3:17-29; Psalm 68:4-11; Hebrews 5:18-24A; Luke 14:1, 7-14.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Twenty-second Sunday 2025]

You could call it “the irony of humility” or “the irony about humility”.  The irony of humility is this:

• The more you consider yourself to be humble, the less humble you actually are.
• The more you think that you've mastered the virtue of humility in your life, the less humility you actually have in your heart. 

Thinking that you’re humble, my brothers and sisters, is really a manifestation of pride (which, of course, is one of the seven deadly sins!).  You might say that the person who thinks he’s humble is merely proud of his humility—although he misunderstands what humility actually is.

Pride, incidentally, is a very subtle sin.  Many people are not aware of that.  In fact, every sin that we commit in this life is in some way a manifestation of pride.  I once heard a priest describe it in this way: When we’re about to sin what we say to God in our pride is, “Lord, I know what you say—I know what you say is right in this situation—but, at this moment, I will do what I want to do, and I will say whether it’s good or evil.”

I will do what I want to do and I will say whether it’s good or evil.  That was the mentality, was it not, of Robert/Robin Westman, the 23-year-old biological male who murdered those 2 Catholic schoolchildren and injured many others at Annunciation Church in Minneapolis this past week?

“I will do this—I will kill these innocent people—because I want to do this, and I say it’s a good thing, so it is.”  That’s pride—at its worst!

Jesus makes the importance of humility crystal clear in this gospel text we just heard from Luke 14, as does Sirach in our first reading when he says, “My child, conduct your affairs with humility, and you will be loved more than a giver of gifts.  Humble yourself the more, the greater you are, and you will find favor with God.”

Now, contrary to popular belief, the genuinely humble person does not think less of himself than he should.  That’s a very common misunderstanding.  Thinking less of yourself than you should is called “having a poor self-image”—and that’s not what the Lord wants for us.  Quite oppositely, the genuinely humble person DOES think of himself as he should—because he knows and accepts the full truth about himself!  The genuinely humble person knows, for example, that he’s created in the image and likeness of God, and as such has a dignity and value beyond anything else in the material universe.  He also understands that God loves him just as he is—but too much to let him stay that way!

The genuinely humble person knows that he’s been given gifts—that he’s been blessed in special and unique ways by God—and that everything that’s truly good in his life and in his heart comes ultimately from the Lord.  So he gives God (and not himself) the glory for all of it.  And, at the very same time, the genuinely humble person sees himself as a wretched sinner: a sinner who needs reconciliation with God every single day!  He knows that he can’t save himself by his good deeds; he knows that he can’t earn God’s forgiveness by his own power; and so every day he makes the tax collector’s prayer his own: “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.” 

Thus the truly humble person would never make the mistake of taking the place of prominence at the banquet table that Jesus talks about in this gospel text.  He’d know better.

Here’s a great quote from Mother Teresa about humility.  Mother Teresa said, “If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. If you are blamed you will not be discouraged. If they call you a saint you will not put yourself on a pedestal.”

Whenever I read a quote like that, I realize how far I have to go to achieve genuine humility in my own life.  But that’s to be expected, because growing in humility is a lifelong process: a process which will only stop when we go before the Lord at the end of our earthly lives and see ourselves in God’s perfect light. Then, and only then, will we see his greatness and our weakness with perfect clarity.

Now if ever, in the future, you are tempted to think otherwise; if ever, in the future, you are tempted to think that you no longer need to be part of this process—that you no longer need to grow in the virtue of humility in your life—my suggestion is to get yourself a copy of the Litany of Humility and read it.  Read it slowly; read it carefully; think about what you’re saying.  That should help to cure you of your pride very quickly.

Without a doubt, this is one of the most difficult and challenging prayers that’s ever been written.  In all honesty, because of my own pride, I have a very hard time praying it from my heart.  Interestingly enough, it was written in the early 20^th century by Cardinal Merry del Val—who was the Vatican Secretary of State under Pope St. Pius X.  I’ll conclude my homily today by reading the prayer to you.  Some of you know it, I’m sure.  By the way, if you do know it, I would respectfully ask you not to pray it out loud along with me today.  Just listen.  Just listen carefully to the words:

 

O Jesus, meek and humble of heart, hear me.

 

From the desire of being esteemed, deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being loved, deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being extolled, deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being honored, deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being praised, deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being preferred to others, deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being consulted, deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being approved, deliver me, Jesus.

 

From the fear of being humiliated, deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being despised, deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of suffering rebukes, deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being calumniated, deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being forgotten, deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being ridiculed, deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being wronged, deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being suspected, deliver me, Jesus.

That others may be loved more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be esteemed more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That, in the opinion of the world, others may increase and I may decrease, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be chosen and I set aside, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be praised and I unnoticed, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be preferred to me in everything, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

If you can say that prayer—and truly mean it!—it’s a sign that you’re on the right road in your life.  And that’s great!  Praise God for his grace at work within you!  But then don’t make the mistake—the catastrophic mistake—of thinking you’ve reached the goal of becoming a genuinely humble person, because (as I said at the beginning of my homily) the minute—the second—you think you’re humble, you’re not! 

That’s the irony of humility.  It’s also the truth.

 

Mary, the Conqueror

(Solemnity of the Assumption: This homily was given on August 15, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Revelation 11:19a; 12:1-10; Psalm 45:10-16; 1 Corinthians 15:20-27; Luke 1: 39-56.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Assumption 2025]

 

William I was king of England way back in the eleventh century.  He’s known to most people in the modern world as “William, the Conqueror.”  Today, on this Solemnity of the Assumption, the Church proclaims Mary to be “the Conqueror”—although her conquering is far more important than William’s was, and it has nothing to do with his or any other earthly kingdom. 

What does the dogma of the Assumption say about the Blessed Mother?  (I mention this because many Catholics and non-Catholics alike are unclear about it.)  The dogma does not say that Mary saved herself.  Mary was a human person, who received salvation as a free gift from her divine Son.  As we heard her say today in the Magnificat, God was her Savior.  The dogma says (and here I quote), “ . . . the Immaculate Virgin, preserved free from all stain of original sin, when the course of her earthly life was finished, was taken up body and soul into heavenly glory, and exalted by the Lord as Queen over all things, so that she might be more fully conformed to her Son, the Lord of lords and conqueror of sin and death.”

Mary conquered because her Son conquered!  And it didn’t start when she left this life and was assumed into heaven; Mary’s conquering began here, on this earth—which is really good news for all of us!  For example, she conquered fear and confusion with faith: “Be it done unto me, O Lord, according to your word!” (Luke 1:38)  She conquered lust with perfect purity of mind and heart.  She conquered anger and hatred with love: love even for the people who murdered her only Son!  She conquered greed and pride with humility: “I am the handmaid of the Lord. (Luke 1:38). . . He has looked with favor upon his lowly servant (Luke 1:48).”  In a certain sense you could say that Mary conquered Eve’s “No” with her own, lifelong “Yes!”  Along these lines, St. John says toward the end of his first letter, “Who, then, is the conqueror of the world?  The one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God.”  To “believe” in Jesus biblically means to “live for Jesus.”  Mary lived for her Son more completely than anyone else, therefore she has conquered death through her Son and now lives with him in eternal glory, body and soul.

St. Paul said, “I can do all things in [Christ] who strengthens me.”  Paul knew that he could conquer temptation and the forces of evil by the same power through which Mary conquered.  So can we, if we want to.  And if temptation and sin ever do conquer us, we can receive forgiveness through the very same power of Christ, if we simply have the good sense to humble ourselves and get to Confession as soon as possible. 

Let’s remember: at the end of time, there will be only two groups of people in all of creation, “the conquered,” and “the conquerors.”  Those who have been conquered by Satan and have not repented, will live forever in his kingdom under his diabolical rule; those who have conquered sin and death through the power of Jesus Christ will live forever with him—and with Mary, the Conqueror—in the glories of heaven.  Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us, that we, too, will be conquerors.  

 

Make Sure that You’re Planning FAR ENOUGH Ahead

(Eighteenth Sunday of the Year (C): This homily was given on August 3, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Ecclesiastes 1:2; 2:21-23; Psalm 90:3-17; Colossians 3:1-11; Luke 12:13-21.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Eighteenth Sunday 2025]

We’re often told that we should “Plan ahead.”

“You should plan ahead for your child’s education.”

“You should plan ahead for your medical care.”

“You should plan ahead for emergencies.”

“You should plan ahead for a hurricane.”

“You should plan ahead for your retirement.”

Planning ahead is normally a good thing—a very good thing.  It’s something we’re commended for.  It’s a sign of the fact that we’re taking personal responsibility for our lives.  It’s also an act (or a series of actions) through which we exercise a very important virtue: the virtue of prudence.  Given the uncertainties of life on planet earth, it’s prudent for a person to plan ahead.  Planning ahead can even be a moral mandate in certain circumstances.  Children, for example, need parents who will plan ahead for them in a responsible manner—especially when they’re very young.  That’s why many parents set up college funds for their children right after birth!  Given the ridiculous costs associated with getting a college education these days (and it’s probably only going to get worse), good parents know they need to plan ahead for their children NOW—not 18 years down the road. 

So I ask you, if planning ahead is such a good thing, why was Jesus so critical of the man in today’s gospel parable—this wealthy man who had an abundant harvest?  Shouldn’t the guy have been commended for working so hard?  Shouldn’t Jesus have praised him for being so industrious, and for doing such a great job of planning ahead? 

After all, it sounds like he was set for life!  He didn’t even need an IRA or 401(k)—or to buy any gold from Lear Capital!

So, what was the problem?

Well, believe it or not, I don’t think the issue for Jesus was that the man had planned ahead—I don’t think that was the problem at all.  I believe the problem that Jesus had with this man was that the guy hadn’t planned far enough ahead!  He was planning ahead for the next 40 or 50 years—or for however long he expected to live in this world, but his existence was not going to come to an end with his physical death.  After his death—which came a lot sooner than he expected—he was going to have to face Almighty God in judgment, and after being judged by the Lord he was going to face eternity.  And from what Jesus says here it doesn’t sound like this man was ready for those experiences, since his life was ruled by greed and not by charity.  He was rich in worldly treasure but not rich in what matters to God.

The lesson here for us is simple.  The Lord is saying to each of us today, “Yes, make sure that you plan ahead in all the ways that you need to plan ahead in your earthly life, but in the process always make sure that you are planning far enough ahead.”

In other words, we need to make sure that we’re always planning ahead for God’s merciful judgment—so that, whenever it comes (today or many years from now) we will be ready.

And how, exactly, do we do that?  How do we plan ahead for judgment?

We plan ahead, first of all, by striving to grow in our relationship with the Lord every day.  We plan ahead by taking our Catholic Faith seriously and by applying it to every aspect of our lives—including our conduct at home and at work, and including our political views.  We plan ahead by loving our neighbors as we love ourselves, by practicing forgiveness, and by being concerned for those less fortunate than we are (something the rich man in this parable was not).

And we plan ahead by repenting when we fail in these areas—which we all do at times.  On that note, it reminds me of the “Mercy Equation” that I shared with you during the Jubilee Year of Mercy back in 2015.

Recognition + Repentance = Reception.

That equation has an application in this context. 

If we recognize our sins (and the fact that Jesus died for them), and then sincerely repent of those sins, we will receive mercy from the Lord.

Recognition of our sins + Repentance for those sins, leads to the Reception of God’s mercy.

And receiving that mercy is an absolute necessity if we want to plan ahead properly for God’s judgment—that is to say, if we want to go to heaven.   This is one reason why confession is so important.

I’ve often said, if we want to live life successfully forwards (which I think we all do), then we need to think backwards.  In other words, we have to begin by thinking about the goal we want to attain, and then reflect back on the steps we need to take to get to that goal from wherever we’re at right now.

Which is the principle that should guide every decision we make in this life—including the decision to repent of our sins.  We should ask ourselves, “Is this decision going to bring me one step closer to my goal (which is heaven, of course), or will it take me down another road to another place—a place where I definitely don’t want to go?

The rich man in this parable didn’t think of that question when he made the decision to greedily store up his harvest for himself and forget about everyone else.

That night, when he took his final breath and met the Lord face-to-face, I’m sure he wished he had done otherwise.

He planned ahead for a lot of things.  Unfortunately, however, he failed to plan ahead for the most important thing of all, the judgment of God.

He planned ahead, but he didn’t plan far enough ahead.

My prayer at this Mass is that each and every one of us in this church this morning will learn from this rich man’s mistake. 

If God Knows What We Need Before We Ask Him, Then Why Do We Have To Ask Him For Things?

 

(Seventeenth Sunday of the Year (C): This homily was given on July 27, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Genesis 18:20-32; Luke 11:1-13.)  

 [For the audio version of this homily, click here: Seventeenth Sunday 2025]

Tom and Joanne, both 60 years of age, were celebrating their 35^th wedding anniversary, when suddenly an angel from heaven appeared to them.  The angel congratulated them and said, “God is so pleased with the two of you, that he’s given me permission to grant each of you one wish.”

Joanne said, “O that’s wonderful.  I wish that Tom and I had tickets for a romantic cruise that would take us all the way around the world.”

The angel said, “So be it”—and he handed Joanne two first class cruise tickets.

“And what about you, Tom?”

Tom replied, “I wish that my wife was 30 years younger than I am.”

The angel said, “So be it”—and Tom immediately became 90-years-old!

You might call that “a prayer of petition gone bad!”

There’s an old saying (and there is a lot of truth in it): Be careful what you ask for!

But this does raise an interesting question: Why do we need to ask at all?  We say that we believe in a God who knows everything.  Well, if that’s true—if Almighty God knows everything that we need before we ask him (as Jesus says he does in Matthew 6:8)—then why do we have to ask at all?  Why doesn’t the Lord just give us everything we need instantaneously and simplify the process?

Have you ever wondered about those things?

Probably most people have (at least most believers have) at some point in their lives.

This morning I share with you four reasons why: four reasons why God wants us to ask.  Now please don’t misunderstand: these are not the only reasons there are.  I’m sure that some of you could think of others, if you spent some quality time reflecting on the matter, as I did in preparation for this homily.  These are simply the ones that I would focus on, if someone came up to me and said, “Fr. Ray, why does God want me to pray prayers of petition, if he already knows all my needs?”

The first reason is this: Prayers of petition make us aware of our need for God.  They make us aware of the fact that we are not self-sufficient: that we need God’s grace in every situation of our lives.  The constant temptation we face in this life, of course, is to think just the opposite.  (This is one reason, by the way, why most Catholics don’t come to Mass every Sunday.  They don’t think they need it!)  And I’m convinced that this temptation to think that we don’t need God would increase a hundredfold, if we received everything from the Lord without asking.  The gifts would be from God, yes that’s true—but we probably wouldn’t recognize that fact.  So the bottom line is this:  God doesn’t need to be told what we need, but we need to know that we need him—and asking helps us to have that knowledge, that awareness.

Reason number 2 why God wants us to ask: Asking helps us to grow in faith.  Asking helps us to grow in our relationship with God.   In today’s first reading, Abraham intercedes for the people of Sodom.  He starts off by asking the Lord to spare the city if there are 50 innocent people living in it.  God says he will.  And that affirmative response from the Lord increases Abraham’s faith—so much so that he then asks, “Well, what if there are only 45 righteous people in the city?  Would you be willing to spare it for their sakes?”  God says yes again.  This increases Abraham’s faith even more, leading him eventually to the point of asking God to spare Sodom if there are only 10 good people left in the place.  Unfortunately, as we all know, there weren’t.  Remember, this is the city from which we get the modern English word “sodomy”—but the point here is that Abraham’s trust and confidence in the Lord grew much stronger through his verbal exchange with God, through this experience of asking the Lord again and again and again.

Those of you who are parents: When your children need something (when they really need something) and they come to you and they ask and you give it to them—your relationship with them grows stronger, does it not?  Their trust in you—their confidence in you—increases. 

Well, the same is true of our relationship with God.

Which brings us to reason number 3 why God wants us to ask: Because our God is a Father, not a tyrant!  A tyrant imposes things on others.  God doesn’t impose things—even good things—on anybody!  Like a loving Father, he simply offers them to us.  He gives them to us if we want them—and if we ask for them.  That’s why Jesus encourages us in today’s gospel to ask, to seek and to knock—and to do so persistently and perseveringly!

Finally, God wants us to ask him for things in prayer because we are his co-workers!  This is an idea that St. Paul, St. John the apostle and Pope Benedict XVI would all understand very well.  In 1 Corinthians 3, Paul calls himself God’s “co-worker”; and in his third letter St. John talks about us being “co-workers of the truth.”  That last expression also happens to be the biblical phrase that Joseph Ratzinger (who eventually became Pope Benedict XVI) took as his episcopal motto.

We are called God’s co-workers because we are to have an active role in fulfilling the Lord’s plan of salvation for the human race.  God could have made us robots in a mechanical universe and worked out everything by himself; but he chose to create us as free human beings in a moral universe—a universe where we would have to freely and consciously choose the good and embrace it.  So if we believe that prayers of petition bring good things—blessings—into our lives and the lives of others (and we should), then those prayers are part and parcel of this partnership we have with God!  When we pray, in other words, we are acting as his “co-workers” in bringing his help and saving grace into the world.

So there you have it, four reasons why God wants us to ask: to make us aware of our need for him; to help us grow in faith; because he’s a Father, not a tyrant; and because we are his co-workers in this world.

Dear Lord, may these four reasons be reason enough—reason enough for us to take prayer and its power seriously, each and every day of our lives.  Amen.