Knowing When to Kneel Is Not Everything
In our pursuit of holiness, are we growing in humility—or silently judging from the pew?
There are days I catch myself feeling… proud. Not the holy kind of pride in belonging to the Church or in being loved by God—but the sneaky, dangerous kind that quietly whispers, “You know better than the rest.”
It happens in moments I least expect. For example, when I find myself flawlessly responding to the prayers of the Holy Mass, even without a missalette. When I instinctively know when to sit, stand, or kneel. When I notice someone fumbling through the novena prayers or unsure about the flow of the liturgy, and I feel that slight rise of superiority.
I’ve been immersed in the Church for years—actively involved in the Charismatic Renewal, regularly reading Scripture, learning about liturgical seasons, vestments, saints, and the Catechism. I’ve even received the gift of tongues, one of the charisms or spiritual gifts mentioned in 1 Corinthians 12:10. At times, I feel like a “modern-day prophet,” convinced I’m among the chosen ones—despite not being from Israel.
And here’s the truth: that’s when I know I need to pause.
There’s a fine line between being formed in the faith and forming pride from it. It’s a spiritual temptation that’s easy to fall into—especially when you’re surrounded by devout communities and engaging in daily prayer. We start measuring devotion by how well someone knows the prayers, when they bow, how they dress, or how “charismatically expressive” they are. We become gatekeepers of grace, forgetting that we are recipients of mercy, not its distributors.
Sometimes, without realizing it, we exclude others. We label people who don’t know the prayers as “less Catholic.” We judge those who come to Mass in shorts or sleeveless tops, instead of rejoicing that they showed up to meet the Lord. We criticize rather than welcome.
But here’s the Gospel truth: God is not impressed by how perfectly we perform, but by how humbly we love. The publican in the temple beat his breast and went home justified—not the Pharisee who boasted of his righteousness (Luke 18:9–14). And that warning is as much for us “church regulars” as it is for anyone else.
“If I speak in tongues of men or of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong…”
— 1 Corinthians 13:1
So yes, let’s study the faith. Let’s deepen our knowledge of the liturgy, memorize prayers, and open our hearts to the Spirit’s gifts. But let us never forget: all of this is meant to lead us to humility and communion—not division and pride.
Let us be the first to notice and welcome the person who looks lost at Mass. Let us gently guide, not gossip. Let us pray not only with eloquence, but with compassion.
Because true holiness is not about being among the “chosen few.”
It’s about being Christlike to many.
