If you ever use the subway system in London, you can't help but notice the three words posted everywhere: on the walls, on the platform, inside the trains. You'll hear them on the loudspeaker at the station. You might even find T-shirts and souvenirs with these three famous words: "Mind the Gap."
The words warn you about the small gap between the platform where you are standing and the train you are boarding. If you are not mindful of that small gap, you might fall and get hurt as you enter and exit the train.
Those three famous words from the London underground can challenge us today in our pursuit of virtue: Do you "mind the gaps" in your life? Are you aware of the gaps, for example, in your marriage-the ways you hurt your spouse and fall short in being the husband or wife you need to be for your be-loved? Do you think about those gaps, and do you love your spouse enough to be doing something to work on them?
Do you mind the gaps you have in the way you parent your children? Do you think about how God is inviting you to be a better mother or father for them, and do you proactively work on improving so you can give the very best of yourself to your children?
Do you mind the gaps you have in your friendship with God? In your prayer life? Are you aware of the gaps you have in your moral and spiritual life – your weakness, vices and sins? Are you doing anything specific to close those gaps in your life, to live more like Christ?
Every true Christian disciple must ask himself these two basic questions:
1. Where does God want me to be in terms of virtue and holiness?
2. Where am I right now?
God calls me to be transformed in Jesus Christ, to take on his character—to think like him, love like him, serve like him. He is the standard. I am called to be perfected in virtue by his grace. "Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect," Jesus taught (Mt 5:48).
But the reality is that I am far from perfect. I fall short of the mark. I might have some good qualities and some virtue. I might sincerely desire to be a good person and love the people in my life. But I also have many weaknesses and sins that keep me from giving the best of myself to them. I have many gaps.
This awareness of our gaps should not be disheartening, for it is an essential foundation for growing in virtue. If we're not even aware of a particular weakness, we cannot begin to work on it. Armed with this awareness of our gaps, however, we can take intentional steps toward overcoming those faults and taking on the character of Christ as we start to grow in virtue.
From the Catechism of the Catholic Church, we can identify three key ways to grow in virtue: (1) educating ourselves in the virtues, (2) putting in much effort, and (3) relying on God's grace (see 1810-11). Let's take a closer look at each one to see how we can incorporate them into our lives.
Key 1: Educate Ourselves in the Virtues
Most of us did not grow up with specific training in the virtues. We learned the alphabet and multiplication tables. When we were older, we were exposed to more complex science, literature, and history. Many of us went off to university, where we learned a lot of information and got training so we could land a job. But most of us were not given what authentic Christian communities have always seen as so vital to pass on from generation to generation: the great tradition on the virtuous life. Our culture trains people to make money, manage businesses, and develop sundry technological innovations but does not deliberately pass on the basics of the virtues: what they are, how they work together, how to develop them, and how to overcome vices. With this deficit in our personal formation, we each might wonder, “How can I personally grow in virtues if I don’t really know what they are? And how can I pass them on to my children?”
The good news is that it is never too late to get started. Whether we are seventeen or forty-seven years old, we can still play catch-up and form our minds with the correct vision for a virtuous life. And that’s the first step for growing in virtues: educating ourselves about them (see CCC 1810). The more we learn about the virtues, the clearer picture we will have for what we want to aim for in life.
We need to have a target. If we aim at nothing, we’ll hit something. That’s why educating ourselves in the virtuous life is so important. We can do this in many ways: reading the Bible and the Catechism, reading good books about the virtues, and reading good novels by wise authors such as Jane Austen, who presents such a clear picture of the virtuous life. But there are two main ways to learn about the virtues that are worth underscoring: reading the lives of the saints and living in Christian community.
The Saints
First, the saints offer real-life examples of virtue in action. They give us a picture of how we can live virtuously in our daily lives. We can learn about how to deal with difficult personalities from the example of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, who consistently rose above her natural feelings toward the more difficult personalities in her community. In fact, she went out of her way to spend time with those people and loved them. She realized they were wounded people and just needed extra patience, care, and attention—something others in the community didn’t always want to give them. We can learn from Saint Josemaría Escrivá, who began each project with prayer and offered his work to God as a gift of love. His example can inspire us to say a short prayer of offering to the Lord every time we turn on our computer at work or start a project at home. When we experience a few weeks or months of dryness in prayer, we can be encouraged by the example of Saint Mother Teresa of Calcutta. She went through decades of darkness in her spiritual life and still persevered and found Jesus at a deeper level in that darkness. She knew that faithfulness to daily prayer was far more important than any feelings of divine intimacy she might experience in prayer. Her example encourages us to remain faithful and learn, like her, to find Jesus in the darkness.
Filling our minds with stories of the saints gives us an array of concrete ideas for how to put virtue into practice in our daily lives. It certainly will do much more for our growth in virtue than filling our minds with the latest score, the latest news, or the latest trend on social media. Our minds can take only so much information into our souls each day. Let’s make sure we give priority to filling our heads with what matters most, including the lives of the saints.
Community
Another crucial way we learn about the virtues is regularly seeing them lived in the people around us: friends, parents, teachers, coworkers, and priests. All education is ultimately about imitation. We’re imitating others in a way of life. Indeed, living the virtues is an art, not a science. We learn most about the virtues, therefore, not in a book but by spending time with others whom we want to imitate—those who have more life experience or are living more virtuously than we. Their examples inspire us and remind us of the way we want to live. Their way of life begins to rub off on us. In fact, the whole Christian way of life can be summed up as imitation: we are imitating those who imitate Christ (see 1 Cor 11:1).
That’s why it’s important to have a community of virtuous friends who are running after the same ideals. And in this community, it’s crucial that we have some friends who are a few steps ahead in life—friends who are perhaps a little older and more experienced in marriage, family, virtue, prayer, and holiness. When I was single, I intentionally spent a lot of time with various Catholic families. I knew I wanted to be married and have a family of my own one day and was grateful to immerse myself in these families’ day-to-day lives. To this day, I instinctively recall certain things I picked up from my time with them—the way they prayed together, played together, handled conflict, forgave one another, disciplined children—and am inspired to apply some of those approaches in my own home. The time I spent hanging out with those families, sharing meals with them, and babysitting for them was like a valuable apprenticeship in Catholic family life.
Similarly, Beth and I are so thankful for the many couples who were a few steps ahead of us in terms of years of marriage and number of children they were raising. Some were like informal mentor couples whom we could call to get advice on fitting in date nights while raising little ones; balancing work, family life, and daily prayer; staying afloat when raising four kids under the age of seven; and navigating the teen years. Looking back, I can see that our marriage and family life is a mosaic built not merely on our own ideas but also on the wisdom and experience of so many other couples who were a few steps ahead of us and who, through their examples, inspired us to be better.
Key 2: Put in Much Effort
Early in our marriage, my wife gave me a wonderful birthday present: a framed photo of the famous NBA basketball player Michael Jordan taking his last shot as a Chicago Bull. I am originally from Chicago and was a big fan of the Bulls when they won six championships in eight years with Michael Jordan leading the team. Jordan’s last shot was one of his most famous: a last-second shot from the top of the key in game six of the 1998 NBA Finals to come from behind and beat the Utah Jazz 87 to 86 and win the series.
Do you know why Michael Jordan was able to make that clutch shot at that crucial moment in the series? It’s because he practiced it thousands and thousands of times. Jordan was known as the player who worked the hardest. He showed up to practice the earliest and left the court the latest. He pushed himself in the weight room more than anyone else. And he practiced various shots, moves, free throws, and other skills thousands and thousands of times throughout his career. So when the crucial moment came for him to deliver that clutch shot from the top of the key with 5.6 seconds left on the clock, it was second nature. He made it look easy.
We can do the same in our personal lives. The Catechism explains that a second key to growing in virtue is through "repeated efforts," "deliberate acts," and "perseverance" (1810). If professional athletes put in so much effort to grow in their skills with a basketball, football, or hockey puck, how much more important is it that we strive to do all we can to give our best in what matters most: the art of living.
How do we do this? Saint Francis de Sales says that to grow in virtue, we need to "wear down" our vices by relentlessly opposing them on three fronts: in our thoughts, words, and actions. These are the three main battlegrounds where the struggle for virtue is fought.
First, in our thoughts. The battle for virtue begins in the mind. Do we regularly fill our minds with stories, images, ideas, and examples of virtue? Or do we allow what is not true, good, and beautiful into our souls? Saint Paul said that if we do not want to be conformed to this world, we must be transformed by the renewal of our minds (see Rom 12:2). This is why we must regularly recall the virtues and set before our minds beautiful examples of the virtuous life, especially as seen in Christ and his saints. Meanwhile, we should often recall how foolish a certain vice is, how it enslaves us, how unworthy it is for a child of God, and how we will view it on the Day of Judgment. Staying on top of our thoughts is crucial in the battle for virtue.
Second, in our words. We should praise virtue as often as possible. Frequently praise purity, humility, simplicity, selflessness, and wise judgment—virtues that are not usually appreciated in our modern world. Play your role in building a virtuous community by praising what is truly praiseworthy and holding up the ideals we all should be running after together. At the same time, speak clearly against vice whenever… you get the chance; do not allow vice to be celebrated in your presence. Let your opposition to a particular vice be known, even if you yourself struggle with it. Saint Francis de Sales explains that even if a part of us is hesitant to denounce a certain vice because we ourselves are a bit attached to it, we should still speak what our minds know to be true. He says we should "not cease to despise it. By such means you will stake your reputation on the opposite side. If we denounce a thing we bring ourselves to hate it, although previously we may have had great affection for it."
Third, in our actions. Some people think they just need to marshal more willpower. "I will control my emotions better next time." "I need to resist those temptations." "I will tell myself, 'I'm never going to do that again!'" But sometimes the best defense is a good offense, and the best way to conquer a weakness is not merely with a no but with a yes to something greater. A good basketball player doesn’t strive to avoid making bad shots ("I hope I don’t miss!"). He instead focuses all his attention on how to make good shots. A harpist doesn’t focus on the other forty-six strings he doesn’t want to pluck ("I hope I don’t accidentally play those strings!"), but rather he focuses on the one string he needs to play at the right time and in the right way. Similarly, if I notice a certain weakness—a bad habit I want to overcome—the best strategy is to focus on developing the good habit—the virtue—I want to acquire, not on expelling the vice I want to defeat. As Saint Francis de Sales explains, in order to "wear down" our vices, we should "perform many acts of the contrary virtue."
If, for example, I struggle with judging people, I will tend to notice the faults and mistakes of the people in my life more than I notice their good qualities. To overcome this weakness, I should make it a point each day to seek out people’s good qualities, thank God for their virtues, and honor them for what they do well. Similarly, if I tend to procrastinate, I should start certain projects at work earlier than necessary in order to combat my procrastination. If I tend to talk a lot and dominate conversation, I should try to listen more, ask people questions, and give them more time to speak before I jump in. By positively practicing the virtues that oppose my vices, I can begin to overcome the weaknesses that prevent me from giving the best of myself in my relationships.
Moreover, our will is more easily trained to avoid sin if it can be pulled by a desire for a greater good. As Saint Bernard of Clairvaux once explained, “Sweetness conquers sweetness as one nail drives out another.” The greater sweetness in life that comes from living chastely can help conquer the superficial sweetness of lust. The greater sweetness of acts of humility can help conquer our temptation to vanity and pride. The sweetness and peace that come from deep forgiveness can help curb our anger and resentment toward others.
Practice Makes Perfect?
Such a program of virtue training, however, will not be easy. As the Catechism explains, “The removal of the ingrained disposition to sin…requires much effort and self-denial, until the contrary virtue is acquired” (Glossary). We should not be discouraged, therefore, if we do not notice immediate results. Growing in virtue and strengthening our will is like strengthening our bodies’ muscles.
My wife enjoys distance running and has completed a number of marathons. But she didn’t start her running career with a 26.2-mile run on her first day. The idea of a marathon wasn’t even on her radar. The thought of doing a marathon back then would have been overwhelming. She simply enjoyed running and started logging miles with friends for fellowship and to stay in shape. Then, after running well in several 5K races, she realized she easily could work up to a 10K. After several 10Ks, the idea of a half marathon didn’t seem too much of a stretch. Running several times a week built up her endurance, and she eventually reached a point when she could run a half marathon on the fly on any given week if she wanted. A friend would call and ask, “Do you want to do this half marathon downtown next weekend?” and she could confidently say yes, knowing she had built up and maintained the endurance. All that training eventually made it easy for her to take on the prospect of full marathons down the road.
But if an out-of-shape man starts running, he probably will not find a 5K race easy at first. And the idea of a half marathon would be completely out of the question. In the beginning, running will be quite painful. But over time, the runner who consistently trains several times a week builds up his muscles and stamina. With much practice, a 5K run eventually will become a lot easier.
The same is true when we are building up our moral muscles, the virtues. The more we persevere in our efforts to overcome a certain weakness and grow in virtue, the easier the battle will become. This should give us hope. Though the struggle is hard at first, our moral muscles strengthen over time. But that’s the key: it takes much time, effort, and perseverance. So, we should not be discouraged at all if we find it very difficult to root out certain sins. That is to be expected. After all, it was a lot easier when we were just giving in to our passions and vices! But now that we are battling against them—now that we are retraining our emotions, our desires, and our perceptions of reality—we likely will find it very challenging at first. But we should resist the temptation to give up, to despair, and to think that the battle is too hard and that we can never change. If we persevere in our efforts (and trust in God’s grace), our moral muscles will gradually become stronger and be able to overcome the sins that weigh us down.
For example, someone who has repeatedly given in to sexual sin is not likely to achieve chastity in a week. He probably will continue to battle against his sin for a very long time. But the good news is that if he perseveres in the struggle, if he persists in trying—telling God he’s sorry when he falls, bringing his sin to confession, getting up, and sincerely doing everything he can to avoid this sin in the future—God sees his heart, his sincere intention, his desire to change. Moreover, the effort itself begins to strengthen his will, even if he occasionally falters. Over time, chaste living will get easier for him as grace heals his wounds and as his moral muscles begin to strengthen. This gives hope to the person feeling enslaved to certain sins. As with a runner who gains endurance by consistent practice, the person battling for virtue will find it gets easier over time if he perseveres.
Key 3: Rely on God’s Grace
The hardest part about growing in virtue is perhaps learning to rely not on oneself but on God’s grace. Of course, we all say we are grateful for God’s mercy and grace in our lives. But there may be a secret part of us wishing we didn’t need it as much as we do. We wish we could be more self-sufficient: holier, more virtuous, more put together than we are. And we are bewildered and frustrated when we fall short of the version of perfection we have set up for ourselves. But this is not humility. It may be a form of spiritual pride. And this third key for growing in virtue—learning to rely on God’s grace—challenges us to face the honest truth about ourselves, about how much we really depend on God for everything. Indeed, Jesus’ words apply to all of us: “Apart from me you can do nothing” (Jn 15:5). It’s the devil who wants us to forget this foundational truth and follow a path of self-reliance. He knows that if we try to be self-sufficient and overcome our weaknesses by our own strength, we will always end up in failure, discouragement, and ultimately despair. By our own willpower, we will never get to the roots of our sins. And when we try and try but notice little improvement, we will be tempted to think we can never change and it’s not worth trying anymore. Stuck in the cycle of self-reliance, we will be tempted to give up the battle and will never arrive at the deeper level of holiness God has in store for us if we would but learn to surrender and depend more on him.
This third key of relying on God’s grace challenges us to humbly recognize how small we really are, how weak we really are, how deep our problem with sin really is. It challenges us to realize, at the very core of our being, how much we really need God. We must, of course, put in the effort on our end. But, ultimately, practice does not make perfect. Only God does. So, no matter how much we strive to conquer our weaknesses, we will run up against our own limitations. Most of us have weaknesses that have plagued us for years: struggles that are rooted in wounds from our upbringing, patterns of unhealthy relationships, bad habits and sins we fell into over time. Jesus wants to heal the deep roots of our sins, and in the end, only he can do that surgical work. After all, he is the divine physician, not us. So, we need not only to admit our dependence on God but also to humbly accept it. Yes, accept it. “Lord, I need you.” “I can’t do this on my own; please help me.” “Jesus, help me change. I really want to change, but I don’t know how.” “Help me trust you more, Lord.” “Help me forgive this person who deeply hurt me whom I don’t want to forgive.” “I cannot overcome this addiction. I surrender it to you, Lord.” “Please help my marriage right now. I can’t see how it’s ever going to get better on our own.” Only when we reach out to the divine power outside us are we able to live the virtues in a way we could never do on our own. That divine power, of course, is found in Jesus Christ. As the Catechism explains, “Christ’s gift of salvation offers us the grace necessary to persevere in the pursuit of the virtues” (1811).
Grace in the End
Sanctifying grace is Christ’s divine life in us, transforming our selfish hearts with the supernatural love of Christ himself. The more we grow in Christ’s grace—through prayer, good deeds, and, most especially, the sacraments—the more we are able to love supernaturally, in a way that far surpasses what our weak human nature could ever do on its own. We begin to take on the character of Christ. As Saint Paul says, “We…are being changed into his likeness from one degree of glory to another” (2 Cor 3:18). An analogy from the early Church can be helpful for explaining this profound transformation that comes as a result of Christ living in us through grace. The Church Fathers said the process of our human nature being healed, perfected, and transformed in Christ is similar to what happens when an iron is put into fire. The analogy can be summed up like this:
When an iron rod is put into a flame of fire, it begins to change and take on the properties of fire. It becomes hot. It starts to glow, taking on the color of the fire. And it emits smoke, like the fire itself. The rod of iron doesn’t become fire. But it takes on the characteristics of fire.
Similarly, when our human nature is infused with sanctifying grace through the fire of the Holy Spirit, it starts to change.
It is gradually transformed by God so that it begins to take on the characteristics of Christ himself. The soul exhibits more peace, joy, patience, generosity, and love. The soul does not become God, but takes on more of the characteristics of God as it is being transformed by the fire of his love.
Do you long to be healed in this way? Do you long for the fire of Christ’s love to radiate through you? This is why it is essential to seek God’s grace in prayer and the sacraments. We certainly need to educate ourselves in the virtuous life and persevere with all our might to overcome our weaknesses and sins. But as Saint Thérèse would say, “Since all that is really very little, it is important to place all our trust in him who alone sanctifies and heals, and can even sanctify without them.” We ultimately need to throw ourselves into the arms of our heavenly Father and rely on his grace to change us. With Christ’s divine life dwelling in us, our natural virtues are elevated to participate in Christ’s life. With grace, we can begin to be patient with Christ’s patience. We can begin to be humble with Christ’s humility. And we can begin to love with Christ’s divine love working through us. When grace starts to transform our lives, we can begin to say with Saint Paul, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Gal 2:20).
By Edward Sri, from The Art of Living
