Tonight, our reflection centers on growing in virtue—how we actively cultivate a life rooted in Christ and aligned with his teachings, beginning in the small, ordinary moments of our day. However, I’d like to begin with a brief reading from the Gospel of Luke.
“12 He said also to the one who had invited him, “When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. 13 But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. 14 And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”
Lk 14:12–14.
These words of the Lord are more than a lesson in hospitality; they are a profound invitation to charity. Jesus is not focused on whether we feel affection toward others or even if we have good relationships with them; his concern is with charity, a love rooted in God.
Charity, in the tradition, is often described as “indifferent love.” Not indifferent in the sense of being apathetic or detached, but indifferent to the self. Charity is pure, selfless love, where our own motives, our own needs, are set aside. St. Josemaría captured this beautifully when he wrote, “I will serve God cheerfully, with a cheerfulness that is a consequence of my faith, of my hope, and of my love.” Furrow 53 In his words, we see the heart of virtue: it brings peace and joy, not because life is easy, but because it frees us from concern about self. The joy of virtue is a peace rooted in Christ, where we are no longer preoccupied with how others see us or how we benefit from our actions.
But this ideal of charity can be intimidating. If charity requires pure selflessness, how do we actually attain it? How do we begin to grow in virtue? Jesus, of course, gives us the grace, but we have to take steps to cooperate with that grace.
Let us look at charity in practice. Imagine you are organizing a charitable fundraising event—a good, morally praiseworthy act. But if even part of your motivation is driven by a desire for recognition, then true charity is missing. You might be seeking the respect of your community or hoping people will see and appreciate your work. If charity is a love that expects nothing in return, then mixed motives pull us away from the purity of that love. Jesus invites us to something radical here: a love so pure, it has no room for our own glory. And that is challenging! The temptation to be noticed and appreciated can be strong, especially when we do good work. So we have to ask: How do we grow in this sort of virtue, this kind of pure love?
To answer this, we must start small. Attempting a grand gesture of charity right away—a big, visible act where we try to keep our motives pure—will likely set us up for discouragement because we will almost certainly fail. Instead, we can begin in private moments where no one else is watching. Begin by helping a friend or neighbor in need, in a moment when you feel little motivation to help. Choose to act with love when it is inconvenient, when there is no applause, and where there is no reward. Say yes to the friend who calls you for help at an inconvenient time, or the neighbor who asks a favor. When you show up in these hidden ways, you build a foundation for charity. And over time, as these small acts become easier, you can start challenging yourself in more public settings where the temptation for recognition may be greater.
This approach—gradually moving from easier to more difficult acts—is true for every virtue. St. Josemaría said, “I shall walk with [the Lord] therefore, quite confidently, for the Lord is my Father, and with his help, I shall fulfill his most lovable will, even if I find it hard.” Furrow 53 Virtue requires commitment and courage, step by step, with Christ as our guide. When we grow in patience, humility, or charity, we build these virtues as we would a muscle—through regular use and incremental challenges.
Consider the virtue of patience, for example. Let us say what irritates you most is a crying baby in church. You might think, “I’ll conquer this once and for all by sitting near that baby every mass until I learn patience.” But that approach will backfire. You will be frustrated and give up. Virtue is not something we gain by sheer willpower. Start small instead. Find those little daily annoyances—maybe traffic delays, minor disruptions at work, or situations where you are tempted to respond in irritation—and intentionally respond with patience. Choose to wait without frustration, choose to respond with calm. And then, as patience takes root in these smaller areas, you can face greater challenges without losing your peace.
Virtue, as St. Josemaría points out, is something we build with Christ, not in a single, grand moment but by remaining close to God in each small choice. It is a slow journey of learning to respond to his grace. But as we take these steps, a surprising transformation occurs. We no longer find ourselves agonizing over every small choice, wondering, “Can I bear this?” Instead, we walk with confidence and joy because our hearts are formed in Christ. A truly virtuous person does not weigh every situation with anxiety. They don’t ask, “What is in it for me?” or “Can I manage this?” They walk forward, confident and free, knowing they’re firmly rooted in God’s love.
Growing in virtue requires that we humbly examine ourselves before Christ, asking, “Lord, where am I weak? Where are my faults?” The Holy Spirit will guide us to see our weak points, perhaps areas where we never even noticed we were struggling. Then we ask, “How can I start working on this, bit by bit?” For some struggles, this journey takes a lifetime. For others, a year. But what matters is our effort and our desire to grow closer to Christ.
It is tempting to try to leap into the deep end, to aim for perfection instantly. But the life of virtue is not a sprint; it is a lifelong marathon. Real growth comes from starting small and allowing God to work in us as we go along. With time, as we continue cooperating with grace, we look back and see the progress we have made. Suddenly, we find that the things that once tested our patience, tempted our pride, or drew us toward self-interest have less power over us. Our hearts are changed, not because we forced it, but because we invited God to work in us over time.
Ultimately, this process of growing in virtue brings joy. Jesus calls us to a life of joy and peace. The virtuous man is happy, the virtuous man is free, the virtuous man knows that he is on the right path, and that is the very source of his joy. This is the freedom Christ offers us in the life of virtue. It is a life where we are no longer weighed down by worries about reputation or self-interest, where we are simply able to be present to God’s will and walk with him.
So let us focus on nurturing virtue in this honest, gradual way. Let us ask Christ to reveal our weaknesses, to help us take those small, first steps. And let us keep our eyes fixed on him, trusting that with each step, we grow closer to becoming the people he has called us to be. Then, when challenges arise, we will be ready—rooted in love, secure in our faith, and prepared for whatever life brings. With Christ, our virtues flourish, and we experience the true joy and freedom of a heart united with him.