Not Arrogant: Leadership Rooted in Humility
"For a bishop as God's steward must be blameless, not arrogant..."
—Titus 1:7
As Paul continues his list of qualifications for spiritual leaders in the early Church, he draws a line in the sand: those who lead must not be arrogant.
It seems simple enough. But beneath that word lies something deep and dangerous. Arrogance isn’t just a character flaw—it’s a spiritual poison. It blinds us to our faults, hardens our hearts, and turns leadership into control rather than service.
If the gospel is about grace, then arrogance is the antithesis of the gospel. And that’s why Paul brings it up so quickly.
What Does “Not Arrogant” Mean?
The Greek word used here is authadēs (αὐθάδης), which literally means:
“self-willed, stubborn, or self-pleasing.”
This kind of person isn’t just prideful—they’re unaccountable. They don’t listen. They always need to be right. They bulldoze others to get their way. In other words, they make leadership about themselves.
And Paul says: Not in the Church.
Because the Church isn’t a platform for personal ambition. It’s a body. A family. A temple. And elders—bishops, presbyters, pastors—are meant to serve as stewards, not owners.
The Steward’s Heart
Paul reminds Titus that elders are not just leaders—they are “God’s stewards.” That means everything they oversee belongs to God, not them.
In Catholic tradition, stewardship is a deeply spiritual concept. A steward is someone who cares for something entrusted to them, knowing it belongs to someone else. That’s how a priest views his parish. How a deacon serves his community. And how any leader—lay or ordained—should approach ministry.
“Authority is exercised legitimately only when it seeks the common good... and is exercised as a service.”
—Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1903
You cannot be a faithful steward if you’re driven by ego.
You cannot be trusted with others if you’re always demanding your own way.
Christ the Anti-Arrogant
Jesus—the one with all authority in heaven and on earth—washed feet.
He didn’t dominate conversations. He didn’t silence dissent with anger or sarcasm. He led by serving. He called out sin, yes, but never from a place of superiority.
As Philippians 2 reminds us, He “did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped, but emptied Himself…”
He became nothing—so we could receive everything.
That is the heart of Christian leadership. Not self-promotion, but self-giving.
We see this beautifully modeled in the life of St. Charles Borromeo, the 16th-century bishop who led the Church through major reform not with arrogance or coercion, but with humility, fasting, and a deep sense of pastoral responsibility. He lived among the poor, reformed the clergy, and made personal holiness the foundation of ministry.
A Word of Examination
This one hits close to home for me.
There were times in ministry when I didn’t listen well. I pushed too hard. I talked too much and prayed too little. I thought I had to be the one with the answers. And in doing that, I sometimes wounded people who were just trying to follow Jesus.
I didn’t mean to lead with arrogance. But I did. And I’ve had to repent of that.
Maybe you’ve been hurt by arrogant leaders. Maybe you’ve been one yourself. Either way—there’s grace for us. And more importantly, there’s a better way.
The Church doesn’t just call us to high standards—it offers us the means of restoration. Through the Sacrament of Reconciliation and the guidance of spiritual direction, we are given grace to begin again, humbly and honestly.
Final Thoughts
Paul says spiritual leaders must not be arrogant—not because God needs perfect people, but because He calls humble ones. People who know their place in the story. People who understand that the Church doesn’t revolve around them. People who serve because Christ first served them.
And if you’re wondering what that looks like, here’s a start:
Talk less.
Listen more.
Confess often.
Invite feedback.
Submit to Scripture and the Church.
Lead from your knees.
Reflection Questions:
Do you invite correction, or avoid it?
Are there areas of your life where pride is hiding in plain sight?
What does Christlike humility look like in your leadership, parenting, or service?
