The Chariot Race of Humility
Gospel Reflection for October 26, 2025 - Luke 18:9-14
And to some who trusted in themselves as just, and despised others, he spoke also this parable: Two men went up into the temple to pray: the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican. The Pharisee standing, prayed thus with himself: O God, I give thee thanks that I am not as the rest of men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, as also is this publican. I fast twice in a week: I give tithes of all that I possess. And the publican, standing afar off, would not so much as lift up his eyes towards heaven; but struck his breast, saying: O God, be merciful to me a sinner. I say to you, this man went down into his house justified rather than the other: because every one that exalteth himself, shall be humbled: and he that humbleth himself, shall be exalted. (Luke 18:9-14 DRA)
For this reflection, I would like to focus on a comment on today’s parable given by the great St. John Chrysostom, contained in the Catena Aurea of St. Thomas Aquinas:
This parable represents to us two chariots on the race course, each with two charioteers in it. In one of the chariots it places righteousness with pride, in the other sin and humility. You see the chariot of sin outstrip that of righteousness, not by its own strength but by the excellence of humility combined with it, but the other is defeated not by righteousness, but by the weight and swelling of pride. For as humility by its own elasticity rises above the weight of pride, and leaping up reaches to God, so pride by its great weight easily depresses righteousness.
This is a truly fascinating interpretation of Our Lord’s words, one that exactly summarizes the apparent paradox contained therein. It could seem that the Pharisee is in fact more righteous than the publican. He is obviously a dutiful Jew, praying in the Temple, tithing regularly, fasting, etc., and not guilty of the sins he enumerated, whereas publicans or tax collectors were notorious for colluding with the Roman overlords and extorting money from Jews and other non-citizens. So why is the Pharisee presented by Christ as the object of criticism while the publican is the example for us to follow?
The reason, as St. John Chrysostom makes clear, is what Frodo once said in The Lord of the Rings, that a servant of the Enemy “would – well, seem fairer and feel fouler”.[1] In other words, the Pharisee seems fair but feels foul. We just seem to know automatically that the Pharisee is wrong to pray as he does and that the publican, despite the sins he bluntly confesses, is superior for his humility. This, however, would not have been obvious to people in Jesus’s time or to the Gentile pagan world. The Jews should have but often didn’t recognize humility as a virtue and the Greco-Romans certainly didn’t.
Humility is, of course, one of the key Christian virtues and one that is often mentioned in the Gospels and in Tradition, but we might sometimes forget to ask, “what exactly is humility”? St. John Chrysostom again helps us out here, explaining,
The word humility has various meanings. There is the humility of virtue, as, A humble and contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise. (Ps. 51:17.) There is also a humility arising from sorrows, as, He has humbled my life upon the earth. (Ps. 142:3.) There is a humility derived from sin, and the pride and insatiability of riches. For can any thing be more low and debased than those who grovel in riches and power, and count them great things?
This is why the ancient world thought little of humility: who would think it’s good to be low and debased, to think little of oneself, to have low ‘self-esteem’ as modern psychology calls it? And yet, we show our centuries of Christian culture by our immediate reaction to this parable: we naturally recognize the superiority of humility.
But the real question is, are we humble? Have we learned the lesson Christ wishes to teach us in today’s parable? We probably think we are humble. Who would want to think otherwise? But this is the problem, isn’t it? If we claim to be humble, we aren’t truly humble. We must be like the publican and admit our sinfulness, our unworthiness before God, the superior virtues of those around us and our utter dependence on Him for all goodness, indeed, for our very existence. As St. John Chrysostom exhorts,
Although therefore thou art earnest and constant in well doing, yet thinkest thou mayest boast thyself, thou art altogether devoid of the fruits of prayer. But thou that bearest a thousand loads of guilt on thy conscience, and only thinkest this thing of thyself that thou art the lowest of all men, shalt gain much confidence before God. And He then goes on to assign the reason of His sentence. For every one who exalteth himself shall be abased, and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted. (in Ps. 142).
The act we perform at Mass, striking our breast and saying mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa, is not an empty gesture – unless we fail to practice it properly. We are imitating the publican and admitting our imperfection before God and man. If we do this genuinely, all three types of humility St. John Chrysostom can be open to us, depending on our state in life, and if we embrace this humility as the greatest participation in the Cross of Christ, we can be raised with Him unto eternal life. St. John Chrysostom thus concludes:
This inflation of pride can cast down even from heaven the man that taketh not warning, but humility can raise a man up from the lowest depth of guilt. The one saved the Publican before the Pharisee, and brought the thief into Paradise before the Apostles; the other entered even into the spiritual powers. But if humility though added to sin has made such rapid advances, as to pass by pride united to righteousness, how much swifter will be its course when you add to it righteousness? It will stand by the judgment-seat of God in the midst of the angels with great boldness. Moreover if pride joined to righteousness had power to depress it, unto what a hell will it thrust men when added to sin? This I say not that we should neglect righteousness, but that we should avoid pride.
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[1] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Mariner Books, 2004), 171. Kindle.
The type of humility that changed my life was being anxious for nothing by casting all of my care on God (cf. Philippians 4:6-7; 1Peter 5:5-7; James 4:5-10). It was a simple act of faith.