Virtue, Holiness, and Self-Denial

Golden Booklet of the True Christian Life, John Calvin, from Chapters 1 & 2

Of the many excellent recommendations, is there any better than the key principle: Be thou holy, for I am holy?

Holiness is not a merit by which we can attain communion with God, but a gift of Christ, which enables us to cling to him, and to follow him.

Because the Father has reconciled us to himself in Christ, therefore he commands us to be conformed to Christ as to our pattern.

We should exhibit the character of Christ in our lives, for what can be more effective than this one stirring consideration? Indeed, what can be required besides?

The gospel is not a doctrine of the tongue, but of life.

It is an ancient and true observation that there is a world of vices hidden in the soul of man, but Christian self-denial is the remedy of them all.

The poor yield to the rich, the common people to the upper ten, the servants to their masters, the ignorant to the scholars; but there is nobody who does not imagine that he is really better than the others. Everyone flatters himself and carries a kingdom in his breast.

For we shall never arrive at true meekness by any other way than by humiliating ourselves and by honoring others from the depth of our hearts.

You cannot imagine a more certain rule or a more powerful suggestion than this, that all the blessings we enjoy are divine deposits which we have received on this condition that we distribute them to others.

I love the way Paul describes holiness as my essential quality when he calls followers of Jesus, "saints." Saints are merely "holy ones." And yet he also says that saints are "called to be holy." (1 Cor 1:2) So it is something given as a gift - I am made holy - and yet also expected as a growing quality - I am called to be holy.

It makes me think of my kid's friends. If they walked into my house without one of my kids with them, I would say, "What are you doing here?" They are not really part of my household without my children's presence with them. With my children with them, they become "adopted" into my home as my children. So Christ's presence and substitution for me gives me access to the throne room of God for Christ's sake. I do not have to face God's question of "What are you doing here?"

As any polite person knows, in order to remain in someone's house, they must pay attention to the rules and spirit of the house. Although there is forbearance, a good friend will try to imitate a good child in the house. This is being polite. I think it has some correlation to holiness, though. I have access through Christ so I can learn and obtain the quality he has. He becomes the pattern for my life.

And so Jesus gives a double gift in holiness. I am given access to the Father, so that I can indeed pray, "Our Father" with him. I am also given the perfect model of relating to the Father through Jesus the Son, who shows what purity and holiness really are in God's sight, and through the Spirit, who enables me to grow in the same way. Access to God without the growing "character of Christ" in my life is like one of my kids' friends barging into my house without my children with them; it's not only rude, but presumptuous. (I did this before as a kid; I wouldn't recommend it.)

Although my part is small in this - because I certainly could not get anywhere near the Father without Jesus - I do have something essential to do. In contrast to this presumptuousness of disregarding Christ's character and example to me and expecting access to God, self-denial is a good remedy. It is the heart of humility without which it is impossible to enter the kingdom of God (Mt. 18:4).

Many efforts at self-denial end up being more like self-immolation. Christian self-denial, or more specifically, Christ-like self-denial is what is called for. Without the enabling power of grace, self-denial quickly becomes either a show or self-destructive. But the effort remains, still.

The effort requires me to leave my self at the doorstep when I enter God's kingdom with Jesus. Children who come into my house and make demands for themselves contrary to the provision of my house are usually considered rude and presumptuous (or cute if they're very little, but only for a short time.) Being polite is accepting what is given to you and carefully asking for what is not. This requires that a person put the rules of the house before their own desires when they enter that house. In the same way self-denial is leaving behind my desires and learning to accept what is good from God. If I want to be his, I will be in his house with his Son, seeking to be like the family.

This self-denial cuts to the very core of what keeps me from God. I may want to "visit" God, giving up certain things for a short time, but knowing that I will get back to "my house" where I can do what I want to, or as Calvin puts it, where I am king in my own kingdom. This is not self-denial. Self-denial only comes when I decide I want to move in with the Father, Son, and Spirit, abiding with them all my days. There is no "vacation" in this adoption. Vacation negates self-denial and makes me a mere visitor.

Self-denial happens not only when I decided I want to remain with God all my days, but when I follow Jesus back out into the crowds and "honor them from the depths of my heart." In my family the word "honor" means more than respect. It means respect plus genuine care, generosity, and helpfulness. Self-denial means imitating Jesus in his desire to serve and not be served, give himself as a ransom for many, and lay down his life for others. It is not a series of rules to follow, but a general attitude of "putting others interests before your own." (Php. 2)

Nothing will be earned in doing this. Christ made it clear that the service itself will reward: "It is more blessed to give than to receive." Where self-denial does not bring joy, I am not yet resigned to living with the Father. I am still holding out for my own kingdom, my own way, and not trusting in his goodness and generosity. He will provide and the greatest gift of all will be my "family likeness" to his Son.

Father, thank you for inviting me in with Jesus. Let me stay with you. Let me marvel in the love of this household you have. Let me live as your son with other people, acting on your great blessing and provision rather than on the fear of not getting my own way. Mold my desires into the ones that Jesus has. You are indeed my Father in heaven. Amen.

This self-denial is like stripping off layers of paint and varnish from an old piece of furniture. It is work. It is a process. I think, by God's grace, some of the "true grain" will show in these days and God's work will become apparent as holiness. Holiness is that true grain, being completely God's, completely different, and completely myself.

Virtue and Turning

Devotional Classics, Richard Rolle, Excerpt from The Fire of Love

"Before we can experience even a little of God's love, we must be really turned to him, and, in mind at least, be wholly turned from every earthly thing. The turning is indeed a matter of duly ordered love, so that, first, we love what we ought to love and not what we ought not, and, second, our love kindles more towards the former than to the latter." (p.162)

Being virtuous its rewards. Freedom from shame and guilt. Newfound strength. Reconciliation in relationships with others. But at the top of the list is the experience of God's love. Actually, I find without this "reward," none of the others make virtue stick.

This is the reason that turning is required. I must turn not only to God, but away from every "earthly thing." Contrary to popular opinion, I do not think this is because God is the cosmic killjoy. This has to do with the nature of the human heart and with the nature of love itself.

There is only room for one God in any persons life. One of the greatest problems with polytheism is its denial of reality. The same holds true for agnosticism. I cannot serve more than one god, neither can I not serve any god. In the end, whatever service I render to other people, gods, or desires comes down to one focal point. That focal point is the place of worship to my one god.

Jesus explains it this way: "No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate one and love the other or be devoted to one and despise the other." (Mt. 6:24) In the ten commandments, it goes this way, "I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery. You shall have no other gods before me." (Ex. 20:1-2)

Instead of turning away from other "gods" and toward the true God, I want to have God AND other things. Instead of turning, I find myself stacking. I try to gather all the things that make me feel comfortable, safe, and happy into a pile that I can pick and choose from. Unfortunately, with stacking, there still is an order - something ends up on top.

So turning is a matter of "duly ordered love." What's on top? Rolle says that the way my deck is stacked will be obvious soon enough. "Love for God and love for the world cannot coexist in the same soul: the stronger drives out the weaker, and it soon appears who loves the world, and who follows Christ." (p.163) As much as I would love to stack and "have it all," I find that virtue - loving God and his ways - lies in a completely different direction than loving the passing things of this world. One must be ignored to seek the other. So I must turn.

Rolle explains such turning in two steps. First there is doing what I ought to do. This is deciding upon what is good and right and from God and seizing upon it. Then love kindles or alights in the process of decision and action. If I wait until love kindles without doing what I ought to do, I find myself merely doing what I desire, good or not. This leads to confusion and almost inevitably toward vice rather than virtue. If I do what I ought and love never kindles in me, I am on the fast track to burnout and despair. I think virtue begins with duty and ends with delight when it is practiced correctly.

Lord, I think I can have the world and you. I end up running back and forth between the two, or stretching my life to encompass both. Help me to let go of this world and turn to you. In many ways, I think the biggest challenge is the letting go and trusting that the delight will follow. Bring to mind your many delights and blessings and stir gratitude in my heart so that my turning may be complete. Amen.

There is "botched" virtue that practices virtue as a duty, but never learns to delight. I find myself swimming in this kind of virtue frequently. I feel the lack of delight because I have not let go entirely of the delight in the sin or distraction. Since I still hold on, my duty always remains a strain and I find it hard to see any delight in being with God instead. Trust is the vital ingredient. I can only let go completely when I know that something much better awaits. Thus I must pray, read, and ponder about such things since they are frequently clouded by lies and distractions.

Virtue and Shame

Devtional Classics, Richard Rolle, Excerpt from The Fire of Love

"The eager love of the wicked. . . is always for what is shameful. They have ceased from all spiritual exercise, or at least are flabby and feeble. Their love has no pattern, being given more to things that are of this world than of the next, more to bodies than to souls." (p.163)

Isn't it amazing that I can love something shameful? It seems almost a contradiction in terms. Things that inspire love are beautiful, true, right, and good, not shameful. So how does this desire get planted in my heart?

Perhaps one reason is that shameful things are easy things. Almost without exception. The only thing that makes them difficult is the effort to look good while trying to do them. Then comes the lying, hiding, accusing, etc. Loving shameful things is like walking downhill, going along the broad road and the wide gate. Cruising.

Maybe another appeal to shameful things is how I can "fall into them" without planning or thinking things through. No exercise is needed, just relax and enjoy the ride. Somehow, such things just "come up" easily without any intention to do them at all. They seem to look for me, so I do not have to look for them.

Perhaps they are more available. No waiting. Live in the now. They involve what belongs to this age, what is right here, right now. There is little need for hope and expectation. The things of this world, this age are so easy to come by, while the things of the Age to Come are much harder to find, seemingly.

Maybe the pull of my body is so strong, that shameful things are inevitable. My soul seems to be a wispy, immaterial thing meant for another day, another time, another life. The demands of the body are so obvious, so powerful, so hard to ignore. When the body calls, very few people will question its needs. I can excuse my love of shameful things and even call them "bodily needs," like getting hungry or thirsty. Who can deny that?

And yet there is that nagging feeling of shame with the the sobering thought of "Maybe this isn't a good idea." If the love of shameful things is all so inevitable, where does that come from? Merely a nagging superego, a left-over parent who doesn't know when to be quiet? Social and cultural pressure? Maybe. Not all the voices in my head are true.

Then there is the possibility of evil. My soul may be bent out of shape so that I do what I do not want to do, as Paul writes about in Romans 7. I find that I am not in control of my life. Parts of my life are opposed to another, so I do shameful things, things I do not want to do. This is a broken soul: one that does not bring my life together, but makes my feelings and my thoughts serve desires I do not want to have.

"What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me?" Paul exclaims in exasperation in Romans 7. It certainly seems to have the upper hand. Virtue may not be natural, like these shameful things, but one of the great rewards of a virtuous life is the lack of shame. The lack of shame is not necessitate self-righteousness. Really I find that self-righteousness is a defensive posture that works hand in hand with shame.

No, freedom from shame through virtue brings the opposite of what these desires for shameful things bring. Instead of being feeble and flabby from lack of spiritual exercise, there is a sense of spiritual strength and wholeness. Instead of being blown here and there by every wind of desire, life and love have a pattern and a meaning. Instead of merely living in this present evil age, the Age to Come breaks into this existence, showing the "world" is not all-encompassing, but really a small rebellious faction that will be removed in time. Instead of following bodily desires around to the point of distraction and misery, my soul takes form so that the parts of my life - my thoughts, my feelings, my body as well - begin to work together for good instead of pulling in opposite directions with disparate desires.

Lord, I see the good news from you is that the horizons of virtue have expanded through Jesus. No longer is virtue isolated to religious moments or to just the right kind of people, but now it is open to every moment in my life and to everyone who would follow Jesus. Christ is the pattern of life and of love that can make virtue a powerful presence in my life. Free me from shame, feebleness, and flabbiness in my spirit by the grace present through your Spirit and by the hope present in Jesus, my Father. Amen.

Shame can spiral me down into further degradation. I get ashamed so I need my "fix." Instead, I want to let my experience of shame propel me into the hope of a life without shame. I will let me shame be my guide into what areas of my life need a "work out." (After all, aren't I supposed to "work out" my salvation?)

Virtue and Desire

Devotional Classics, Richard Rolle, Excerpts from The Fire of Love

"This surely is the way we turn to Christ: to desire nothing but him. To turn away from those "good things" of the world, which pervert rather than protect those who love them, involves the withering of physical lust and the hatred of wickedness of any sort. So you will find there are people who have not taste for earthly things and who deal with mundane matters no more than is absolutely necessary." (p. 162)

I find that many of the prayers I hear and offer have to do with the "good things" of this life. God indeed blesses me with many things I may not even notice. This time of year a number of people look forward to raises and bonuses. This year I prayed for a better year financially, but it had had a number of upsets. And yet, I am still well-fed and clothed and healthy.

Coming out of Thanksgiving, these "good things" have had their spotlight. Is Rolle really just a "Grinch?" Could he be a pale, raving prophet who wants to ruin everyone's happiness and joy? What he talks about apparently had no more appeal to those who read his book in the 1300's that for me in this day. The "freedom" I now have to get what I desire almost instantaneously has not made me desire Christ more, but probably wars against such a desire.

I find that the main point is this: When does my greed and accumulation of "stuff" turn my heart cold towards Christ and his life and his purposes? In my own experience, it doesn't take long. One of the purposes of virtue, then, seems to be keeping the heart aglow with love for God. The "good things" of life need to be taken sparingly, and only when they don't interfere with my love for Christ. This is virtue: the right (and sparing) use of the things of this world to increase and nurture a continuing and increasing love for God.

What is it to "desire nothing but" Christ? It seems to me that this means all other desire are weighed against my love for Christ. Whatever I may want needs to be considered in the light of this question: Will it draw me nearer to Jesus or take me away? The virtuous mind is one in which this desire for Christ is paramount and continually moving me toward what is good and away from what is worthless or evil.

This is so far beyond WWJD. It is not so much a matter of asking, but a matter of knowing. When I have the presence of God as my light, then whatever lessens it or snuffs it out needs to be carefully considered. This knowing is more than a mere internal experience. It must line up with deep and regular study and meditation on the Bible as well as how I treat people around me, from closest to most distant. (Funny how I can love "humanity" but hate my neighbor, coworker, or sibiling.)

Lord, let my mind be on you and your words of life so that I may develop this virtuous mind and heart which desire you first and foremost and allows all other desires no status or place except when they are for your presence, your gifts, or your people. Free me from the tyranny of always wondering about and seeking out what I want. I want to enter a different place where such desires only accompany and deepen my desire for you. Amen.

Rather than ask myself at every turn "Is this OK?" I believe I need to continue to increase my desire for God and take notice when other things get in the way. The competition of such desires will alert me to their ill-placed status. As Jesus said, "No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate one and love the other or be devoted to one and despise the other." (Mt. 6:24) God will also get in the way of a love for the "good things" of this world as surely as they will get in the way of my love for God. This is not because God is against good things or desire as such, but because they are in different directions entirely; to go one way is to abandon the other. That is why I cannot "serve both God and money."

Virtue and Failure

Devotional Classics, Gregory of Nyssa, Excerpts from The Life of Moses

"This is true perfection: not to avoid a wicked life because like slaves we servilely fear punishment, not to do good because we hope for rewards, as if cashing in on the virtuous life by some business-like arrangement. On the contrary, disregarding all those things for which we hope and which have been reserved by promise, we regard falling from God's friendship as the only thing dreadful and we consider becoming God's friend the only thing worthy of honor and desire. This, as I have said, is the perfection of life." (p.157)

When my kids do something they shouldn't, what seems the worst is being caught. They feel truly bad and want to make amends as quickly as possible. They can't stand the disapproval. Punishment can almost seem welcome to them so they can "make up" for what they did. I guess there are some things people don't grow out of too easily.

Now, what about the things I am not caught doing. Without the obvious presence of another person to emphasize my disobedience or lack of control, I feel much less anxiety and sorrow. At this point I am tested. How much do I sense God's presence? Knowing that he know and sees what I have done may cause some level of conviction.

There is something to living in God's presence as living under the scrutiny of love which "does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth." (1 Cor. 13:6) God has no love for the evil things I do. This is bound to affect me the more I am aware of it.

And yet, it doesn't entirely. My mind says, "Well, God sees everything; there won't be any shocking him" or "He knows that there are worse people than me around." It is not merely his scrutiny nor his love that keep me from stopping my trek of virtue to indulge in evil side paths. Something more is required.

Something more than God's love? What could their be? Obviously God's love is foundational and necessary, but he has granted me my own measure of love to give or withhold from him. Friendship is not merely God loving me, but me loving God as well. My own part is infinitely smaller than God's, but still necessary.

So when I sin and fall, I still feel like a creep. God's kept up his side of the friendship, but I have been unfaithful. Granted. But God doesn't want us to feel bad about ourselves so much as feeling bad about distancing ourselves from him. As long as my reason for virtue focuses on what will happen to me when I do right or wrong, it will remain outside my heart and in the realm of behavior alone. My reason for virtue must come from a concern about what will happen to God if I am unfaithful.

Really, God hurts about my sin and unfaithfulness far more than I ever will. He will not become unfaithful or give up on me or lose control, but knows that I am in danger of breaking faith with him. My will and faithfulness can only bend so far. But even if I am not in danger of "breaking" entirely, our relationship is cut shorter and my experience of his loving community in Trinity is noticeably dulled. His love for me is so deep, each moment I spend away pains him.

Lord, I hate when I sin against you. I find I hate my failure more than I hate the hurt and the separation I cause between myself and you and other people as well. Forgive me for my pride about being right and virtuous. Help me rather to obtain the true perfection of friendship with you that I will not part with for anything because of the sheer joy and peace of being with you. I do not want to be right as much as I want to love you more. Amen.

This really makes me aware of my recovery time. After exerting in exercise, recovering correctly can mean the difference between feeling energized by my exercise or getting cramps and injuries. Similarly, recovery time from sinning against God is what happens after I confess. It can be spent in anger at myself and God and others which can leave me far worse off than the sin itself. I long to let go of my pride and worry about being righteous and "perfect," and seek to think on God's pain and his hurt as well as those I have wronged and eagerly try to remedy what I can. The hardest thing is facing the pain I have caused by sinning, but it is the only thing that will heal the relationship well and bring true virtue.

Pursuing Virtue

Devotional Classics, Gregory of Nyssa, Excerpts from The Life of Moses

"We should show great diligence not to fall away from the perfection which is attainable but to acquire as much as possible: to that extent let us make progress within the realm of what we seek. For the perfection of human nature consists perhaps in its very growth in goodness." (p.156)

"[Gregory] and other Church fathers used the Bible and its characters to teach us how to grow closer to God, how to "elevate" the soul to God." (p.154)

Stand at the crossroads and look;

ask for the ancient paths,

ask where the good way is, and walk in it,

and you will find rest for your souls.

(Jeremiah 6:16)

Virtue seems a funny thing to rest in. I think of resting in bed, resting in the Bahamas, resting near a mountain stream, but not resting in virtue. The more immediate image of rest with virtue is thinking of sleeping on a bed of nails.

This fear and revulsion to virtue is foreign to Gregory. He sees virtue as the means to draw near to God. Although perfection has no limit in his eyes and is therefore unattainable, he understands the never-ceasing pursuit of it as the essence of human perfection. Certainly, pursuit can be merely the act of pursuing, but another meaning captures the kind of pursuit that he is talking about, I think: any occupation, pastime, or the like, in which a person is engaged regularly or customarily, like "literary pursuits."

The connotation has the feel of a hobby, like something pleasant. For the sake of certain hobbies, I have engaged in rigorous research, spent late nights in experimentation, and expended funds to perfect the outcomes. The whole process is one of joy and anticipation. Such "pursuits" reflect the sort of heart that can rest in virtue. When virtue is something I "love," the pursuit can become "rest for the soul."

Of course, the pursuit of virtue as a hobby breaks down, since hobbies are by definition non-essential. Virtue and the rest of the soul are matters of life and death. Grace enables me to take such matters lightly not because of their importance or because nothing is required of me, but because "he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." (Php. 1:6) Perfection lies in the seeking because of the power that God displays in everyone who seeks him and his ways (Mt. 6:33). In this way I can truly find rest for my soul: in the grace of God that empowers and inspires me.

Lord, let my pursuits be ones that take me to your side rather than away from you. You are the fountain of life. May your streams run through me in everything I do. And may I run - not walk - into obedience and virtue because they are your ways and bring me to your side for loving fellowship and for good work. Amen.

Rest in work happens when I learn submission. Virtue is the answer when I ask where the good way is. Walking in it takes trust and submission to the One who would guide me. When I work merely for myself, worry takes over. The heart of this rest is submission and trusting in the Father even as Jesus did, so that all my ways are ways of peace. "

Virtue and Perfectionism

Devotional Classics, Gregory of Nyssa, Excerpts from The Life of Moses

"Although on the whole my argument has shown that [perfection] is unattainable, one should not disregard the commandment of the Lord which says, Therefore be perfect, just as your heavenly father is perfect. For in the case of those things which are good by nature, even if men of understanding were not able to attain everything, by attaining even a part they could yet gain a great deal." (p.156)

The unattainable aspect of this command is for the Pharisees and teachers of the law. As Jesus explained the righteousness of the kingdom, they no doubt sneered at his ideas being presented to the disciples and the crowds. Not only were his ideas impossible, but laughable because the riff-raff that Jesus offered them to. They may have even seen his commands as blasphemous, asking people to try to imitate the Almighty God. Jesus would expect this from people who approach righteousness like the Pharisees did. They cannot see it any other way.

But there is another way to understand this command, "Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect." Jesus contrasted this command with a comment he gave before the examples of heavenly righteousness: "I tell you, unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven." This got me thinking, what is the righteousness of these experts and leading thinkers of the day? Basically, it boils down to something Jesus says later about them: "Everything they do is done for men to see." (Mt. 23:5)

The contrast, then, is this: my perfection is to be like God's in quality, not quantity. The perfection of God comes from his nature - who he is and how he is. The righteousness of the Pharisees came (comes) from external pressures and the basic desire to look good rather than be good. The whole point of the examples Jesus gives before this command in Matthew 5 is that I cannot do right by simply not doing wrong; I must become right to do what is right. Similarly, in Matthew 6 after this command for perfection, Jesus says I cannot do what is right by simply doing what is right, I must become right in order to do what is right. The perfection of the Father that Jesus points me to is one that comes from the inside out rather than the outside in.

I do not think that Jesus was saying that the quantity of perfection was unimportant. Not being able to attain it can drive me to despair and ridicule or to grace. Granted. But I see more than that. He is also pointing me to the only road to surpassing the outward forms of rule and law that never made anyone righteous. He points me to the idea that in order to practice virtue in any real sense, I must set my mind, heart, and body on becoming the sort of person who practices virtue. The adjective virtuous then means not someone who follows a bunch of rules religiously, but someone whom the rules follow and in whom they flow because of their life and character. Jesus seems to say, "Don't follow the rules, let them follow you!"

Striving to be perfect only leads to "perfectionism" when imposed from the outside as rules and law. When striving to be perfect is a matter of living with God daily and longing for and seeking out his goodness, his virtue, his righteousness (Mt. 6:33), then the outside of my life gets cleaned as well (23:26). Perfectionism has to keep score in order to continue on. Becoming perfect in virtue can (and does) enjoy doing what is right because it comes from God and can leave the results to him as well even while enjoying just "a part." Perfectionism has to compare with others (Mt. 7:1-6) and therefore must do things mainly for everyone to see. Becoming perfect in virtue is content and even more pleased to keep such practices and joys private, as a special offering to God. Perfectionism yields impatience, unkindness, envy, unhappiness, and conflict within the person and outside him toward others. Becoming perfect in virtue brings patience, kindness, encouragement, joy, and peace toward my own life and toward others' as well.

Lord, I have been in the grip of perfectionism too often. I have seen you as a task master hanging over me waiting for me to get something wrong so you can condemn me. Father, I did not know what I was thinking! You are so kind and your ways are so often misunderstood because of my own harshness and how it makes me see everyone else as harsh, too. Let me rather walk this road of perfection knowing that virtue comes from a heart and a life that is bent on loving you as surely as smoke comes from a fire. Let my intention be true: becoming good, right, and virtuous rather than merely seeking to look good, right, and virtuous. May your grace impel me as I turn to walk this path. Amen.

Like Jesus, I want to revel in the goodness of his Father. Jesus was unspotted because of his continual joy in the goodness of the Father, his continual efforts to do what the Father was doing. Certainly he is the only mediator between the Father and all people. Yet his mediation is not merely going back and forth between the Father and me, but also introducing me to the Father and showing me how to live in His presence with himself, the Son, and the Spirit. Such is the joy of virtue: relying on Jesus to do what I cannot do and finding more and more that I can do the things that Jesus does as I stand and walk with him toward the Father and in the Spirit. This is the rightness I long for: being right in the middle of the loving Trinity of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. May virtue place me on their doorstep.