Scott Borba’s journey from e.l.f. Cosmetics’ co-founder to a seminarian in the Diocese of Fresno is more than a personal transformation—it’s a mirror held up to a world where success and spirituality are no longer mutually exclusive. At 53, he’s walking a path that challenges the cultural narrative of wealth as a destination, instead framing it as a bridge to something greater. What makes this story so compelling is the way it reframes the idea of ‘calling’ as a dynamic, evolving force rather than a static fate. Personally, I think Borba’s decision to leave his fortune isn’t just about altruism; it’s a rejection of the illusion that material success equates to fulfillment. In my opinion, his story is a quiet rebellion against the consumerist ethos that has defined modern life for decades.
The contrast between Borba’s past as a luxury brand creator and his current role as a seminarian is striking. He once built a business around clean, affordable beauty products—values that ironically align with the spiritual simplicity he now embraces. This duality raises a deeper question: Can the same principles that drive innovation in commerce also fuel spiritual growth? What many people don’t realize is that Borba’s ordination isn’t just a personal milestone but a symbolic shift in how the Church engages with a modern, diverse, and increasingly secular society. His background in marketing and leadership gives him a unique lens to approach ministry, blending practicality with faith in a way that feels both grounded and forward-thinking.
The Diocese of Fresno, which has welcomed Borba into its ranks, is no stranger to innovation. It serves one of the largest and most diverse Catholic populations in North America, a demographic that demands relevance in a world where traditional institutions often struggle to connect. Borba’s journey reflects a broader trend: the Church’s attempt to reconcile its historical roots with the needs of a modern, pluralistic society. From my perspective, this is a critical evolution. By embracing individuals with varied backgrounds and experiences, the Church is not only diversifying its leadership but also redefining what it means to serve.
Borba’s decision to give away his fortune is a radical act of faith, but it’s also a commentary on the absurdity of wealth as a measure of success. In a culture obsessed with accumulation, his choice to prioritize spiritual legacy over material legacy is both bold and necessary. What this really suggests is that the modern individual is no longer bound by the binary of ‘career vs. calling’—instead, they’re navigating a spectrum where both can coexist. His story is a reminder that true fulfillment often lies in the spaces between ambition and purpose.
The future of Borba’s journey remains uncertain, but one thing is clear: his path challenges the very foundations of how we define success. As he steps into the role of a priest, he carries with him the lessons of a life lived in the fast lane of capitalism, now redirected toward the slow, deliberate rhythm of spiritual service. This is not just a personal story—it’s a cultural reckoning. In a world where the line between material and spiritual is increasingly blurred, Borba’s journey is a testament to the power of reinvention. What’s next? Perhaps the Church will find that its most effective ministers are those who’ve walked the streets of both corporate and sacred spaces, bringing the wisdom of both worlds to the altar.
