Sainthood as Perseverance: Falling Forward with Grace
I am not a saint, unless you think of a saint as a sinner who keeps on trying. — Nelson Mandela
The Humble Reframing of Holiness
Nelson Mandela’s line converts sainthood from an unreachable pedestal into a practice of persistence. By defining a saint as a sinner who keeps trying, he collapses the distance between admired figures and ordinary strivers. The emphasis shifts from spotless biography to resilient effort, inviting everyone into the work of moral growth. In doing so, Mandela dignifies failure as a teacher rather than a disqualifier. Instead of purity, he elevates perseverance, implying that what matters most is the next honest attempt. This subtle pivot prepares us to see his life not as flawless legend, but as an ongoing apprenticeship in courage.
Mandela’s Long Apprenticeship in Courage
Against this backdrop, Mandela’s journey reads as disciplined perseverance rather than effortless virtue. In Long Walk to Freedom (1994), he recounts learning Afrikaans to converse with prison guards on Robben Island—a strategic act of empathy that was neither easy nor instinctive. He describes anger, doubt, and misjudgments, yet also the habit of recalibrating after each setback. By narrating his missteps, he models an ethic of iteration: listen, learn, adjust, and try again. This pattern, more than heroic moments, explains his capacity to negotiate, reconcile, and govern after 27 years in prison.
From Purity Myths to Process Ethics
Consequently, Mandela’s view dislodges the myth that moral authority requires immaculate consistency. Instead, it advances a process ethic aligned with ubuntu—“I am because we are”—in which character is forged through accountable attempts at repair. South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission embodied this shift by prioritizing confession, acknowledgment, and amends over retribution (Desmond Tutu, No Future Without Forgiveness, 1999). Under this ethic, justice is not the end of the story but a beginning: the start of restored relationships built by people who admit harm and keep working to mend it.
Echoes Across Spiritual Traditions
In the same vein, religious history often portrays sainthood as perseverance through imperfection. Augustine’s Confessions (c. 397–400) famously chronicles repeated failures before a sustained conversion takes hold. Dorothy Day’s The Long Loneliness (1952) depicts faith emerging from restless searching, not from unblemished virtue. Even beyond formal canonization, John Newton’s journey from slave trader to abolitionist—memorialized in Amazing Grace (1772)—illustrates how conscience can awaken through repeated efforts at repair. These stories resonate with Mandela’s criterion: sanctity is less a state than a stubborn trajectory.
The Psychology of Trying Again
Moreover, contemporary research supports the moral intuition that sustained striving transforms us. Carol Dweck’s work on growth mindset (2006) shows that viewing ability as improvable increases resilience after failure. Angela Duckworth’s studies on grit (2016) link long-term passion and perseverance to achievement, while Kristin Neff’s self-compassion research (2011) finds that kindly acknowledging one’s errors fosters accountability without collapse. Taken together, these insights explain why “keeps on trying” is not naive optimism; it is a practical method for converting mistakes into momentum.
Leadership That Owns Its Imperfections
Carrying this into public life, Mandela demonstrated that admitting imperfection can strengthen trust. His willingness to negotiate with adversaries during the 1993–1994 transition, and his symbolic embrace of the Springbok jersey at the 1995 Rugby World Cup, showed humility yoked to purpose. These acts did not erase past wrongs; they opened space for collective recommitment. Thus, the credibility of leadership springs less from infallibility than from visible learning—course corrections made in public, for the public.
Practices for Everyday Sainthood
Practically speaking, perseverance can be cultivated. Daily examen-style reflection—What went wrong? What repair is due? What is the next right step?—turns remorse into action. In workplaces and families, apology-first norms, restorative circles, and explicit “repair budgets” make trying again a shared habit rather than a private burden. A helpful image is kintsugi: cracked pottery mended with gold, the fractures neither hidden nor glorified but integrated. Likewise, our flaws become lines of strength when we repair them with intention.
A Direction, Not a Destination
Finally, Mandela’s redefinition invites a steady gaze toward the horizon. If a saint is a sinner who keeps on trying, then holiness is a direction, not a status. We are measured by our next faithful attempt, not by the absence of failure. In this light, hope becomes a discipline: fall, learn, and step forward. The work is unfinished—yet with each return to the task, we move closer to the world we mean to build.