Humility Against Despair
Despair and pride are deeply intertwined, often appearing as a reflection of one another. When we despair, we often think it stems from a deep sense of helplessness or suffering, but in truth, despair is rooted in our refusal to surrender to grace. "The proud man loves his own hopelessness more than he loves life, because it seems to him to be at once a proof of his own freedom and a testimony to his own worth." [1] This is where the paradox lies: when we cling to despair, we are, in a sense, holding onto a false sense of control. We believe that our suffering, untouched by grace, somehow validates our strength or freedom. True freedom, however, comes not through suffering alone but through releasing this pride and accepting the mercy and help that lie outside our limited grasp. (James 4:6)
Self-pity is a particularly insidious form of pride. It masquerades as humility, but it is in fact a form of self-absorption, where we focus inward on our perceived inadequacies and weaknesses. "Despair is the absolute extreme of self-love." [1] This reveals a hidden truth: in our sorrow, it is not humility we are practicing, but wounded pride. Self-pity keeps us trapped in a cycle of self-centeredness, unable to move beyond our own pain and toward the healing that awaits us in divine love. When we are mired in self-pity, we hold our wounds close, unwilling to open our hearts to the possibility of something more—something outside of ourselves. (Philippians 2:3)
In contrast, true humility stands as the antidote to despair. Humility is the key that unlocks our heart to the fullness of life and divine joy. "When humility delivers a man from all self-preoccupation, despair becomes impossible." [1] Humility is not self-deprecation or diminishing one’s worth; it is the act of placing the self aside so that grace can flow in. In humility, we acknowledge our smallness and, in doing so, allow the vastness of the Divine to fill the space where pride once reigned. It is in this yielding, this emptying of the self, that we are made whole. (Matthew 5:3)
True humility, however, is not simply a path to joy; it is joy itself. "True humility excludes all self-concern." [1] The moment we stop being concerned with our image, our desires, or our ambitions, we find joy flowing freely in the spaces we create through humility. When the ego is silenced, when we are no longer consumed by our need to appear a certain way or achieve certain things, joy floods our being. Humility is not the absence of joy; it is the removal of all that inhibits joy’s expression. The more we release our attachment to self, the more room we create for the fullness of divine joy to fill us. (Psalm 37:4)
The essence of union with the Divine is found in this very selflessness, in the ability to forget the self and let the Divine flood the soul. "The only thing that can destroy selfishness is the perfect indwelling of God." [1] When we are fully open to the Divine, when we allow God to fill us entirely, there is no longer room for the ego’s desires or the world’s distractions. True humility makes space for the Divine to dwell in us, to unite with us in a way that transforms everything. It is not through personal striving or ambition that we experience union with God, but through surrender, through the willingness to let go of the self and trust in God’s love. (John 15:4)
Humility liberates us from the endless cycle of self-centered striving, replacing it with the pure freedom of divine love. "Perfect joy is possible only when we have completely forgotten ourselves." [1] This is a radical idea: joy, not as something we pursue or achieve, but as something that naturally arises when we stop chasing after our own desires and goals. When we are no longer the center of our own universe, joy finds us—effortlessly, freely. It is not about working harder or becoming better; it is about letting go and allowing joy to flow in as we release our grasp on the self. (Romans 15:13)
The desire for mystical union with God is, in many ways, misunderstood. It is often seen as an ambitious pursuit or a goal to be achieved. Yet the deepest desire for union with God is not about possession or self-exaltation; it is a form of radical self-emptying. "The deepest humility is the most perfect freedom from self-preoccupation." [1] This yearning for union comes not from a desire to become something more, but from the heart’s natural longing to lose itself in the Divine. The more we seek union with God, the more we lose ourselves in God’s presence. This is not a spiritual ambition, but the ultimate act of love—the willingness to be emptied, to be made one with the Divine. (Philippians 3:8-9)
Union with God requires the annihilation of all pride because it reveals that all illusions of separateness are false. "The highest happiness of the human being consists in his complete submission to God’s will." [1] The path to union with God is not through self-exaltation or striving for greatness; it is through complete surrender, the total willingness to align with God’s will. This is where pride falls away: in the realization that union is not something we can earn, but something we receive as a gift, freely given when we surrender our will to God’s. (Luke 22:42)
False humility, on the other hand, rejects this call to union. It hides behind a false sense of unworthiness, as though we are too small or too sinful to be worthy of union with the Divine. But this is merely another form of self-preoccupation. "The truly humble man cannot despair, because in the humble man there is no longer any such thing as self-pity." [1] True humility does not see itself as unworthy but as open to grace. It does not reject union; it yearns for it with pure love, knowing that the Divine’s love is the only thing that can heal the soul. (Romans 8:1)
Desiring God is not only natural but essential to the human heart. It is written in our very beings. "The desire for God is written in the human heart because man is created by God and for God." [1] Yet this desire can become distorted when it is driven by the ego’s need to possess, to control, or to define God on our terms. When our desire for God is a form of control or possession, it becomes idolatry. True desire for God is not about gaining something for ourselves; it is about recognizing the deep longing to return to our Source, to be united with the Divine from which we came. (Psalm 42:1-2)
Spiritual union, in truth, cannot be earned—it is a gift of grace. "Contemplative prayer is the simple expression of the mystery of prayer. It is a gaze of faith fixed on Jesus, an attentiveness to the Word of God, a silent love." [1] Union with God does not arise from our efforts or achievements; it arises when we allow ourselves to be fully present, when we release the need to achieve or accumulate and simply rest in God’s love. Contemplation is not about what we do but about what we allow God to do in us. (Ephesians 2:8-9)
Contemplative experience arises not from accumulation but from surrender. "When we are nothing, God can be everything." [1] The spiritual life is not about filling ourselves up with knowledge, experiences, or achievements. It is about emptying ourselves so that God’s love can fill us completely. The more we release our grasp on the self, the more room there is for God’s transformative presence. (John 3:30)
Faith, at its core, is not certainty but trust. "To have faith is to lose your mind and to win God." [1] Faith is not about knowing all the answers or understanding the mysteries of God’s will. It is about surrendering the mind’s need for certainty and placing trust in God, even in the midst of uncertainty. Faith, then, is not a possession but a posture—a readiness to trust and to let go. (Proverbs 3:5-6)
Many people struggle with despair because their faith was never rooted in trust, but in expectations. "Despair is the result of an illusion, the illusion that one can have faith without self-abandonment." [1] When our faith is contingent upon the fulfillment of our own desires, it is fragile. Real faith is unconditional; it is trust without expectation. When we place our faith in God’s love, not in our own understanding or desires, we are freed from despair. (Hebrews 11:1)
True faith is tested not in moments of clarity but in times of doubt and obscurity. "If you have never had any distractions, you don’t know how to pray." [1] It is in the dry seasons, the moments when we cannot feel God’s presence, that our faith is deepened. It is not in certainty but in trust, in continuing to show up even when we feel nothing, that we find God’s faithfulness. (2 Corinthians 12:9-10)
[1] Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation