Pride and humility stand in sharp opposition. Pride has long been considered the root of all sin, while humility is the cornerstone of holiness. For those who walk in the footsteps of St. Francis of Assisi, humility is not an optional virtue but the very ground on which the Franciscan life is built. Francis himself called his followers the fratres minores, the “lesser brothers,” and referred to himself as “the least of the brothers,” echoing Christ’s own humility in the Incarnation. To understand this tension, we must first consider how pride manifests in human life, then reflect on the Franciscan witness of humility, and finally turn to the cultivation of humility in daily practice.

Pride: The Root of Sin

The Christian tradition, drawing especially from Augustine and Gregory the Great, has long taught that pride lies at the root of all sin. Pride is the inordinate elevation of the self—placing one’s own will, desires, or opinions above God and neighbor. The Catechism of the Catholic Church defines sin as “an offense against God… a failure in genuine love for God and neighbor caused by a perverse attachment to certain goods” (CCC 1849). Pride is the soil in which such failure grows. When we are proud, we center everything on ourselves rather than on God.

In daily life, pride often appears in subtle forms. It may be the inability to admit fault, the quiet resentment when others receive praise, or the insistence on having things one’s own way. Pride can even disguise itself in religious life: the temptation to appear holy, learned, or spiritually advanced for the sake of reputation rather than for the love of God. Pride thrives on comparison—measuring ourselves against others in talents, possessions, or virtue—and in so doing forgets that everything we have is gift. As St. Paul reminds us: “What do you have that you did not receive? And if you received it, why do you boast as if it were not a gift?” (1 Cor 4:7).

Most dangerously, pride resists grace. Scripture teaches that “God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble” (Jas 4:6). When we are full of ourselves, there is no room for God. Pride insists on self-sufficiency, while humility acknowledges dependence. Pride therefore not only leads to selfish behavior but also undermines the very possibility of conversion, because it refuses to admit the need for mercy. In this sense, pride was the sin of the devil and of our first parents in Eden: the refusal to remain creatures under God, the desire to “be like gods” on our own terms (Gen 3:5).

St. Francis and the Way of Littleness

Against this backdrop, the life of St. Francis shines as a radical counter-witness. Francis’s conversion began not in triumph but in humiliation: illness, rejection, and finally the embrace of the leper. In choosing what was despised, he encountered Christ. His instinctive response was to make littleness the hallmark of his movement. He called his followers not “the holy brothers” or “the spiritual brothers,” but simply fratres minores—the “lesser brothers.” In this choice of name, Francis enshrined humility at the very heart of the Franciscan vocation, echoing Christ’s words: “Whoever wishes to be great among you shall be your servant” (Mt 20:26).

Francis also referred to himself as the “least of the brothers.” His biographers testify that this was no rhetorical flourish but a genuine conviction. Thomas of Celano records that Francis considered himself “the greatest of sinners,” and Bonaventure recounts that Francis rebuked himself for any sign of pride, even in receiving praise. In his Earlier Rule he exhorted the friars:

Let us refer all good to the Lord, God Almighty and Most High, acknowledge that every good is His, and thank Him, “from Whom all good comes, for everything.” May He, the Almighty and Most High, the only true God, have, be given, and receive all honor and respect, all praise and blessing, all thanks and glory, to Whom all good belongs, He Who alone is good.1

This humility was expressed not only personally but communally. Francis demanded that the friars embrace poverty not merely as a material condition but as a spiritual disposition. To live without possessions meant to live without the securities that foster pride. The friars were to rely on the generosity of others, so that they would never boast in themselves but only in God.

Humility also marked Francis’s relationship with authority. Though he founded a religious order, he willingly surrendered leadership near the end of his life, recognizing that the fraternity was not his possession but God’s. This act of surrender mirrored Christ, who “emptied himself, taking the form of a slave” (Phil 2:7). For Francis, to be “lesser” was to be like Christ.

St. Clare of Assisi confirmed this insight in her own way. In her Testament, she spoke of the privilege of poverty and the joy of being the “little flock” under Christ’s protection. Her humility was expressed through hiddenness, prayer, and seclusion, radiating holiness without seeking recognition. Together, Francis and Clare gave to the Church a charism rooted not in the pride of achievement but in the humility of dependence on God.

Humility: The Cornerstone of Virtue

If pride is the root of sin, humility is the soil of virtue. Humility is not self-loathing or denial of one’s gifts; it is truth. St. Teresa of Ávila famously defined humility as “walking in truth.” To be humble is to recognize one’s dependence on God, to acknowledge weakness, and yet to receive gratefully the gifts He bestows. It is to say with Mary: “He has looked with favor on his lowly servant… the Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name” (Lk 1:48–49).

In practical terms, humility can be cultivated in several ways:
  1. Gratitude. Beginning each day with thanksgiving reorients the heart away from self-sufficiency. A morning prayer of gratitude or an examination of conscience that highlights blessings fosters humility.
  2. Listening. Pride insists on being heard; humility listens—to God in prayer, to Scripture, and to others. Listening especially to those who might otherwise be dismissed imitates Christ, who welcomed the marginalized.
  3. Hidden Service. Performing acts of service without recognition trains the heart to find joy not in applause but in love. Francis sent friars to beg not to degrade them, but to teach them reliance and humility.
  4. Obedience. Humility is strengthened by obedience, not as blind submission but as a willingness to surrender one’s will for God’s will revealed through Scripture, the Church, and community life. Francis considered obedience the safeguard of humility.
  5. Contemplation of Christ. Above all, humility grows in contemplating the humility of Christ. The Incarnation reveals the infinite God becoming a helpless child, and the Passion reveals the Son of God humbling himself unto death. Francis’s devotion to the Nativity at Greccio and to the Cross both stemmed from awe at this divine humility.

Becoming Lesser

Ultimately, pride and humility are not abstract concepts but daily choices. Every day, the disciple of Christ must choose whether to exalt the self or to lower the self, to grasp or to receive, to cling to independence or to confess dependence. Pride promises greatness but leads to isolation; humility embraces littleness and finds communion with God and neighbor.

For Franciscans, humility is not merely a private virtue but a communal witness. A humble Church is a credible Church. When the Church boasts in wealth, power, or prestige, she risks betraying the Gospel. But when she embraces poverty, service, and smallness, she reflects the face of Christ. This is why Pope Francis continually calls for a “poor Church for the poor.”

St. Francis’s legacy reminds us that to be “lesser” is not to be diminished, but to be set free. By emptying ourselves of pride, we make space for God. By becoming small, we discover the greatness of his love. As Francis wrote to his brothers:

“Hold back nothing of yourselves for yourselves, that He Who gives Himself totally to you may receive you totally.”2

May we, like Francis, walk the path of humility, rejoicing to be the least of the brothers and sisters, so that Christ alone may be exalted.


  1. St. Francis of Assisi, Earlier Rule XVII, 17–19, in Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, vol. 1, ed. Regis J. Armstrong, J.A. Wayne Hellmann, and William J. Short (New York: New City Press, 1999), 76. ↩︎

  2. St. Francis of Assisi, Letter to the Entire Order, 29, in Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, vol. 1, 118. ↩︎