Tonight, I would like to reflect on the topic of hypocrisy, particularly the various ways in which it tends to manifest. Whenever I hear the word hypocrisy, what often comes to mind, perhaps due to the time and place of my upbringing in Alabama, is televangelists. These were men who promoted the Gospel on television but frequently targeted particular sins with great fervor. Over the years, how many of them did we see fall from grace, as it was revealed that the very sins they condemned so passionately were the ones they themselves committed in secret—and they were inevitably caught.
There is something about this pattern that feels universal. If you encounter someone—or perhaps even yourself—who has a habit of loudly denouncing the same issue repeatedly, there is often more to the story. For instance, if someone spends their life proclaiming that pornography is the greatest scourge of America or consistently rails against adultery, abortion, or another moral issue, it is often the case that their public condemnation is a way of masking their own struggle with that very sin. Denouncing it in a public and dramatic way can serve as a means of distracting others from noticing their own failings.
Of course, this is not always the case. I do not mean to encourage a cynical view that every person who is passionate about a particular issue is guilty of the very sin they condemn. That is not true. However, it happens often enough that it has made us suspicious. I recall a warning we received in seminary: “If you find yourself only preaching on one issue, it is likely that you are struggling with it in your private life.” Such is the nature of hypocrisy. It is pervasive in human nature—this tendency to shift the focus away from our own faults by calling attention to the sins of others.
This form of hypocrisy, though common, is often easy to detect. When we see it, we become suspicious, and we are rarely surprised when certain individuals fall from the high moral ground they have claimed. But the real challenge lies in looking within ourselves. If we find ourselves falling into the pattern of repeatedly condemning something very vocally, loudly, and frequently, we ought to stop and reflect. Are we, perhaps, trying to hide something? Is there something within ourselves that we are avoiding by focusing so heavily on the sins of others? Instead of merely condemning, we must be willing to confront and heal what is broken within us.
There is, however, another form of hypocrisy that is far more subtle and, I believe, more pervasive in our culture. It is the kind St. Josemaría Escrivá addresses in this quote:
You are constantly talking about the need to change and reform things. Good… Reform yourself! For you need it badly, and already you will have begun the great reform.
In the meantime, I shall not be putting too much faith in your proclamations of reform. Furrow 636
It is all too easy to adopt a posture of constant criticism—of others, of society, of the world around us. We often speak of the need for reform, for change, and we believe that if everyone simply followed our advice, the world would be a better place. Yet, as St. Josemaría points out, this is not the way of the Gospel. The Gospel calls us to reform ourselves first. True and lasting reform in the world comes not through the criticism of others but through our own self-examination and transformation. The kingdom of God will be manifest in this world only if we, individually, live out the Gospel as Christ has called us to.
In all our efforts to criticize, denounce, and propose great plans for reform, we can easily miss how far we ourselves have strayed. We fail to see how much work remains for each of us. Criticism does not draw people to the faith. It is not compelling. In a world saturated with criticism, no one is converted by more of the same. But holiness—that is compelling. Holiness changes hearts. A true encounter with holiness has the power to transform lives.
I have spoken to people who have had the privilege of meeting canonized saints during their lifetime. Each of them told me the same thing: “The moment you meet them, you know.” Their entire being radiates holiness. Being in their presence changes you. Such encounters stay with people, shaping their lives and helping them remain on the path to eternal life. Each of us has the potential to offer that to the world if we stay focused on our own spiritual journey. If we let go of grandiose plans for reform and instead concentrate on our own interior conversion, striving for holiness, we can have a far greater impact on the world.
The other danger of this subtle form of hypocrisy—condemning the world while ignoring our own need for conversion—is that it blinds us to the true tools of the Christian life: prayer, mortification, fasting, and penance. These are the means by which Christ has given us to change the world. Standing on a street corner holding a sign and shouting about the evils of society will not convert anyone. But prayer can. Fasting can. Penance and mortification can. These practices not only transform the world but, more importantly, they transform us, enabling us to hear God’s voice more clearly and to respond to his call with greater fidelity.
This form of hypocrisy, which distracts us from what truly matters—our interior life, our personal holiness—has deeply infected our culture. We see it everywhere, and we have all fallen into it at times. It is so much easier to criticize others than to examine our own hearts. But we are called to something greater. We must strive to be true Christians, living lives of holiness.
I often hear people say, “But if I don’t go out and protest, if I don’t tell people how wrong they are, how will they ever know?” There is a fear that if we don’t act in the world in a visible way, nothing will change. But this is simply not true. The greatest saints in history were those who fled from the world. When the first monastics left the cities, recognizing that they could not live a Christian life in such environments, the Church did not condemn them. Instead, the Church praised them. The Church has always praised those who abandoned the world to focus on a life of prayer because the Church understands that the world depends on their holiness.
As the popes have repeatedly reminded us, the grace that these holy souls merit for the Church and the world is indispensable. Without them, the world would be far worse than we can imagine. The Church teaches us that the interior life—the life of prayer, penance, and mortification—is superior to all else. Finding purity of soul and striving for perfect holiness is our highest calling and should be our focus.
Of course, there are practical matters that require our attention. We must care for our families and fulfill our duties in the world. But the time that remains to us should be dedicated to the interior life, to the care of our souls, and to eternal things. If we truly re-engage with this aspect of our Christian vocation—focusing on the transformation of our own hearts—we will do far more good for the world than any amount of protesting or public criticism ever could.
So let us cast off the hypocrisy that distracts us with external matters, and instead look within. Let us recognize our own sinfulness, our failures, and our need for conversion. By drawing closer to Jesus Christ, and growing in holiness, we will not only bring ourselves closer to the kingdom of God but will also draw others to it. In the end, the greatest gift we can offer the world is our own sanctity.