Russell was four years older than me. He was also a foot taller and probably had 125 pounds on me at the time. I was a scrawny, soon-to-be freshman, and I wanted to learn the game of football. At five foot nothing, and not even weighing 100 pounds soaking wet, I knew seeing the field would be difficult, if not impossible. I needed help and I found it in Russell.
Russell was a team captain, star defensive end, and he knew what was up. To this day, I’m not exactly sure how we got acquainted, but he took me under his wing during that offseason and taught me the game from the inside.
Apart from learning how our team’s system worked, I learned virtues that make someone a good football player. Through his mentorship and modeling, I learned industriousness, for example. Russell was a diligent worker. He was steady and faithful. I got the sense from him that he could outwork anyone because he did outwork everyone. When it comes to hard work, my parents had already provided the kindling in this regard and Russell lit the match. After that offseason, I knew I could outwork anyone on the football team (except Russell). I would never be as big as most of the guys, nor would I have the technical skill. But I could raise the bar when it came to work.
Next, Russell showed me what encouragement can do. As the word indicates, encouragement literally lifts up the heart, it makes the heart strong. When you strive for a goal like winning a state championship, you need resolve when it comes to encouragement, because there will be plenty of opportunity for its opposite.
Finally, Russell taught me perseverance. It’s one thing to be industrious. It’s another thing entirely to be industrious for the long haul. But this kind of grit wins football games, because every football game is always only won in the fourth quarter (or overtime).
At the bottom of it, by teaching me the game of football, Russell taught me the virtues necessary to succeed in playing football. He showed me what it would take to be good at the game — to be a good football player. Yes, he taught me virtue above all.
As the Catechism puts it, “a virtue is an habitual and firm disposition to do the good” (CCC 1803). It’s a stable disposition, an orientation to what is good. Pope St. John Paul II notes that “virtue is not something abstract, detached from life, but, on the contrary, it has deep ‘roots’ in life itself, it springs from the latter and forms it.”(1) One gets the sense that the possibility for virtue is planted deep within the human heart, made in God’s image and likeness though hardened by sin. If one can cultivate that seed and sprout it, it has the capacity to bear fruit that, in turn, drops its own seed and softens the hard surface of the heart.
Noted philosopher, Alasdair MacIntyre, explains that virtue is “an acquired human quality” that enables human beings to pursue excellence in a given practice (e.g., football, chess, medicine, etc.) and in the “practice” of life as a whole.(2) Virtue helps us to achieve excellence, while the lack of virtue precludes us from achieving it. MacIntyre goes on to explain that virtue is a disposition that allows for a sustained effort in pursuing the good, an effort that increases both the self-knowledge of the one living virtuously, but knowledge of the good as well.(3) The sustained effort includes relationships with others and traditions as well.(4)
To summarize, virtues are an individual’s acquired and cultivated habitual and firm dispositions necessary for the sustained pursuit of excellence in concrete actions within the community and traditions he or she finds himself — which are given to him or her.
The goal of the Christian life is to live life in Christ (see CCC 2017), so as to glorify God and serve our neighbor (see CCC 2013). In the Sacrament of Baptism, we are adopted as sons and daughters in the Son. We are given a new identity, and we spend the rest of our life “catching up” to this new identity, so to speak, and trying to live what it means. Said differently, Christianity is about taking on a way of life we’ve been given in Baptism, as opposed to living some “lifestyle choice” of our own choosing, as is so fashionable today. We are trying to become who we are. To become who we are, to practice the Christian life, to live the Christian life well is to acquire the virtues necessary to do so. How can we acquire said virtues? How do we acquire any virtues? Though it’s a lame analogy, we acquire them like I acquired some of the necessary ones for football: by subordinating myself to one of the best football players on the team and receiving the gifts of his time and mentorship. I spent time with a guy who practiced “the thing” well, and I put into practice what I learned from him. We learn virtue socially, in a sense, by putting ourselves in close proximity to those who are virtuous and learning how to be virtuous from them.
How do we learn to practice the Christian life? How do we acquire Christian virtue? By receiving the gift of God’s grace, and responding to it by submitting to the life of discipleship. This can take several forms, but we are obviously dealing with the Eucharist in this series on Eucharistic life, so it is fitting to note that we learn the virtues associated with practicing the Christian life by becoming disciples of the Eucharist. God invites us into a Eucharistic life of virtue and we must accept his invitation and the grace he offers to put Eucharistic virtues into practice. By subordinating ourselves to Jesus in the Eucharist, we can grow in Christian virtue. By living a Eucharistic life we can put ourselves in position to acquire Eucharistic virtues, so to speak.
The question becomes: what do I learn about living the Christian life well from Jesus in the Eucharist? In a sense, this entire series is a reflection on particular and even peculiar (as in not widely valued in contemporary society) Eucharistic virtues befitting the Christian life, like presence, communion, gratitude, and so forth. But I’d like to push the reflection deeper.
Recently, as I was reading Fr. Thomas Dailey’s Live Today Well, I was struck by his chapter on the “little virtues.” Fr. Dailey highlights three virtues lauded by St. Francis de Sales: humility, gentleness, and simplicity.(5) In my mind, these are Eucharistic virtues because Jesus, in the Eucharist, embodies these virtues.
Jesus emptied himself and took on flesh and humbled himself by dying on the Cross. I find Jesus’ Eucharistic humility breathtaking. In the midst of our ornate churches, on our marble altars, in our gold tabernacles and decorative monstrances, there is Jesus, present under the appearance of humble altar bread (just water and unleavened wheat flour).
And gentleness, or meekness. Meekness is not weakness, but the inner strength necessary to temper discipline, and harness our strength or power (or anger) and direct it reasonably and productively. God’s gentleness with us is on display in the Eucharist, where he comes to us in a way in which we, little human beings that we are — his creatures — can receive the infinite and eternal God into our bodies, “under our roof,” and not be destroyed. The human “vessel” cannot contain God, yet God, in his meekness, allows himself to be contained, so to speak, showing us not only what gentleness is, but what gentleness does.
Finally, simplicity. Simplicity is the opposite of complexity. Fr. Dailey describes it as the virtue of living an integrated life, a whole life, free of guile, duplicity, and deceit.(6) Jesus uses simple and straightforward language in his own teaching about the Eucharist (e.g., Jn 6:22–71; Lk 22:14–20). The Eucharist is what Jesus says — him. He’s not hiding, though he is veiled in humility and because of his meekness, but he is really and truly present. Besides, Jesus is humble and he is meek, after all, meaning the sacramental veil of the Eucharist befits who Jesus is and reveals that to us.
How can one acquire Eucharistic virtues like humility, gentleness, and simplicity? We can grow in these Eucharistic virtues by spending time with the Eucharist and in close proximity (i.e., in holy Mass and in Eucharistic adoration). We can also grow in these virtues by quieting ourselves before the Eucharist, meditating upon his Eucharistic presence, and allowing Jesus to speak to our hearts and teach us. Finally, throughout the whole of our life, we can beg for the grace to keep lessons from Jesus in the Eucharist in mind — reflecting on his little virtues — as we try to emulate them in living the good life.
Brad Bursa is director of evangelization for the Stella Maris Family of Parishes in Cincinnati, Ohio. He is the father of eight children and the author of Because He Has Spoken to Us.
1. John Paul II, “General Audience, November 22, 1978” (Citta del Vaticano: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1978).
2. See Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1984), 191.
3. MacIntyre, After Virtue, 219.
4. MacIntyre, After Virtue, 223.
5. See Thomas Dailey, “Living the ‘Little Virtues’” in Live Today Well (Manchester, NH: Sophia Institute Press, 2015), 141–154.
6. See Dailey, Live Today Well, 150-151.
