A few weeks ago, I was having a conversation with my mother-in-law regarding faith and humanity and she shared with me a quote that she had memorized during a Catholic homily that focused on human limitation and spiritual growth. In my own research that followed, I learned that the homilist had built his sermon around Paragraph 118 of the papal encyclical titled Magnifica Humanitas, which was released by Pope Leo on May 15, 2026.
“Everything that appears as a ‘limit’—incapacity, illness, old age, suffering, vulnerability—tends to be seen primarily as a defect to be corrected, rather than as a reality through which our humanity matures and opens itself to relationship. And yet we must remember that humanity flourishes not despite limitations, but often through them (118).” – Pope Leo
It is no secret that for almost a decade now I have been plagued with very human limitations stemming from my disability. And although this encyclical was published to address the nature of the human person in the age of Artificial Intelligence (AI), I have been able to correlate the church’s view on limitations toward my own disability-induced self-actualization.
In his encyclical, Pope Leo introduces a list of human boundaries that societies often attempt to address (currently through AI). He asserts that these limitations are actually the exact landscape through which our humanity is realized, a perspective that I wholeheartedly agree with. These core human limitations are:
- Incapacity: Personal weakness or inability is not a technical flaw to be optimized, but an aspect of human finitude where compassion, generosity, and mutual reliance find room to grow.
- Illness: Rather than a mere error to be solved through technical means, health limitations highlight human dependency and foster moments of care, solidarity, and closeness with others.
- Old Age: Aging represents a natural stage of human finitude through which a person matures and deepens in wisdom and relational life over time.
- Suffering: Far from a defect to be completely eradicated, suffering is closely bound up with love and desire; integrating it enriches the human spirit and deepens empathy for others.
- Vulnerability: Human fragility and exposure to trial allow individuals to recognize their fundamental reliance on God and respect the inviolable dignity of every person.
In past blog posts, I have written about my own struggles within these facets of my life. I genuinely do my best to see my limitations as a chance to be closer to God and to help others. Many in my position search for a miracle in a physical cure, but I find mine in the daily rhythm of life. I also recognize that an easy existence was never guaranteed, so I don’t ask for one. I pray instead for the endurance to face these hardships, and the wisdom to glean meaning from my “limitations.”
I thank God daily for my ability to self-reflect. I ask Him to help guide my thoughts when I type out these posts. I ask Him to help guide my words during intense conversations at support group meetings. Mostly, I ask Him to help me recognize the meaning behind it all. If I didn’t have these limitations, would I have the insight or capacity to help anyone? In a strange way, I am grateful that He has provided me a unique opportunity to act as a vessel (albeit, a disabled one) in service of others.
Being a quadriplegic has undoubtedly presented me with physical limitations, but paralysis has also expanded my mind in profound ways. When society measures a person’s worth strictly by output, efficiency, and speed, the paralyzed body looks like something in need of repair.
Faith offers a counter-narrative: human beings are not products to be optimized, but souls to be formed. An algorithm cannot understand patience because it never has to wait; it cannot comprehend sacrificial love because it has never suffered loss. The depth of the human spirit is forged in moments of adversity.
My injury stripped away my ability to rush through life, so I now measure my days by meaning. Despite my limitations, I feel that I exist in an elevated state of humanity. I never needed pure physicality because my true utility stems from my capacity to endure, to reflect, and to love. At the end of the day, the sole reason I’m even able to recognize this is because of my limitations.