Humility as a Virtue

Humility is an essential quality.

To explain that further, one could say that without humility, you might find it difficult to get through the Pearly Gates according to Saint Peter.

In our current culture, the push for autonomy has led us to view obedience as a sign of weakness.

So, what exactly is humility?

An old saying tells us that humility isn’t about thinking less of yourself; rather, it’s about thinking of yourself less. If you take a closer look at the lives of saints, or, you know, even just many admired figures throughout history, you’ll see that humility is an incredibly appealing attribute.

The Celebrity Cleric

Blessed Fulton J. Sheen, widely regarded as America’s most prominent Catholic bishop of the 20th century, had many reasons to be proud. Now on his path to sainthood, he was an exceptional scholar, an inspiring writer, and one of the most dynamic speakers of his time. His radio shows captivated millions, and his television series, “Life Is Worth Living,” attracted audiences in the 1950s that rivaled those of major entertainers.

Yet, two particular events in Sheen’s journey highlight that perhaps his greatest strength wasn’t his speaking ability, but rather his obedience.

The first significant moment occurred before he was widely recognized.

After being ordained in 1919, Sheen went to Europe for further studies and excelled at the University of Louvain in Belgium. He became the first American to receive the esteemed Cardinal Mercier Prize and obtained the university’s prestigious agrégé degree. By age 30, it was rumored that both Oxford and Columbia were eager to have him teach philosophy.

However, in 1926, his bishop called him back to Peoria, Illinois — not to a university setting, but to St. Patrick’s, which was among the city’s least affluent parishes.

And he went.

Sheen dedicated himself to visiting the ill, celebrating Mass, raising funds for the parish, and delivering sermons. Nine months later, his bishop revealed that the move had been a test, as some were concerned that Sheen’s success in Europe had made him feel too important to take direction. In this case, he had indeed passed.

Exiled Entertainer

Before long, Sheen was appointed to teach at Catholic University in Washington, D.C., marking the beginning of a prominent public career.

Fast forward four decades, and the price of obedience became significantly steeper for him.

By this point, Sheen had become a household name. His television viewership soared into the tens of millions. Yet, he clashed with Cardinal Francis Spellman of New York regarding funds Sheen had raised for missions. After a dispute was escalated to Rome, Sheen emerged victorious. However, Spellman reportedly held a grudge.

In 1966, Sheen found himself reassigned to Rochester, New York. Many biographers view this relocation as a form of exile, as one of the world’s most renowned religious figures suddenly had to lead a relatively small diocese far from the media spotlight.

The years that followed were tough. Used to captivating audiences worldwide, Sheen was disappointed when he spoke at Rochester’s largest auditorium and faced a lackluster turnout.

“The whole world comes to hear Fulton Sheen, except his own diocese,” he reportedly confided to a fellow priest.

Assessing Right and Wrong

It’s easy to conclude that Sheen’s superiors were correct in their decisions, but that’s not necessarily the case. Spellman may have acted out of vindictiveness. And Sheen was not without his own errors during his time in Rochester. Authority can often be misguided, shortsighted, or plain wrong.

This is why obedience — much like its companion virtue, humility — holds significant value.

Obedience becomes especially meaningful when it’s challenged, particularly when you feel you possess more talent, knowledge, or capability than the person in charge. And, well, you might be right.

Today’s celebrity culture often promotes the opposite. Discover your unique talent. Build your personal brand. Expand your presence. If institutions fail to appreciate your brilliance, there’s a tendency to move on. Frustrated with a boss? Seek a new one. Does a church restrict your ministry? Start your own.

This inclination isn’t inherently wrong. Sometimes, institutions do become corrupt, and there are moral imperatives that no human authority should override. Obedience doesn’t mean servility, nor does it require you to accept wrongdoing.

Yet, our society has advanced so far towards autonomy that we often view obedience as weakness.

Quiet Service

There’s also a distinctively American — and, some might argue, Protestant — aspect to this. The Reformation put individual judgment in opposition to ecclesiastical authority, while the American spirit lifted independence and skepticism towards hierarchy. Both trends have generated positive outcomes, but unchecked, they can lead to a form of Christianity where individuals act as their own popes and doctrinal arbiters.

Catholicism proposes a more challenging path: your gifts aren’t solely yours. Your calling doesn’t guarantee a massive audience. You might find yourself in roles that receive little recognition, perhaps even being utilized poorly by legitimate authority.

Despite having every reason to assume he should be on grand stages, Sheen accepted assignments that were beneath his apparent stature and faced humiliations that he didn’t rightfully deserve.

In 1979, towards the end of his life, Pope John Paul II embraced Sheen in St. Patrick’s Cathedral, delivering what might be the best summation of his legacy: “You have written and spoken well of the Lord Jesus Christ. You are a loyal son of the Church.”

Not necessarily the most famous. Not necessarily the most brilliant.

Just loyal.

In an age where everyone seems preoccupied with establishing their own platforms, Fulton Sheen offers a more challenging question: can we stay faithful when obedience might cost us the audience we believe we deserve?