The Life of Virtue

I found myself deeply identifying with the blind beggar, Bartimaeus, from Sunday's Gospel reading .  Too often, I have been wooed by the concerns and frustrations of this world.  Constantly I am tempted to enter the modern-day "Jericho" of pride, envy, greed, anger, or lust. The solution?  To call out as Bartimaeus did, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me" (Mk. 10:48, RSV)!  I must recognize that I am powerless against the forces of this world that cause spiritual blindness in me.  I must remember that He is the source of my existence, and cause of my flourishing.  Without His mercy and blessings, I would certainly find myself in a constant cycle of sin, devolving to spiritual destruction. Alas, that doesn't have to be.  Like Bartimaeus, I have the opportunity to throw off the mantle of sinful oppression that the enemy would have me wear (cf. Mk. 10:50).  Instead of being weighed down and hindered by those deadly sins, I can have the free...

A friend of mine once gave me a great piece of advice for fruitful prayer.  "Pray from the place where you're weakest, and where the waves and winds of the storm are crashing on top of you," he said. I've begun to feel a bit overwhelmed with life recently.  There are family responsibilities, growing children who need lots of attention, work duties, studies, things around the house that need to be fixed, financial questions, and on and on.  It seems to be a perpetual barrage of hurricane-level winds and tsunami-like waves.  So, it is good for me to take my friend's advice for prayer. As I took that piece of advice this morning, God whispered another beautiful truth into my ear: the place of frustration is also the place of joy and peace.  What, God?  Surely, that's backwards...at least it is to my frail and feeble human brain.  This one would require some reflection. Here's how it works.  God allows some of the responsibilities, questions, ...

[This post appeared originally on my full site, which is now no longer in operation, in November 2012.] It seems that more should be written about a saint from whom we can learn so many lessons in virtue.  Yet that is not the case with St. Martin de Porres, from whom we have much to learn about humility, detachment, fasting, justice, and charity.  The website of the St. Martin de Porres Shrine and Institute (located in my own diocese; a wonderful initiative with a beautiful chapel) offers a mere four paragraphs of biographical information, while other sites ( here , here , and here ) devote no more than 10 sentences to this exemplar of heroic virtue.  Surely, Brother Martin, who was so humble in this life, finds that to be a fitting scenario even after his death. From the very earliest days of his life, he embraced his lowly situation.  He desired to do nothing more than glorify the Creator by serving creatures.  He reached out to slaves, orphan...

[This post appeared originally on my full site, which is now no longer in operation, in October 2012.] The first Beatitude that Our Lord gave: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Mt. 5:3). So, poverty of spirit is a virtue, as are all the Beatitudes (which is a different article). But what does “poverty of spirit” mean? In a single word, it is synonymous with “detachment.” I have known a few sisters in my short time as a Catholic. Those sisters are nothing if they are not detached. They are detached from everything except the love of Christ and the gifts and mission that He has given to them. They are the epitome of “poverty of spirit,” in my opinion. In recent days, a news story has surfaced that a community of sisters in Baltimore, Maryland will be the beneficiary of the auction of a rare, Honus Wagner-baseball card. At this point, their detachment has merited over $65,000 for their community, not including the graces that will lead the...