The Joy of Easter

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On behalf of the staff and clergy here at St. Michael parish, I want to wish you a very blessed and happy Easter! On Thursday, as I was running around like a wild man trying to make sure everything was ready for these holy days, I was tired, my feet hurt, my back was sore and I was wondering if everything was set for the Sacred Triduum. Despite these worries and weariness, I was completely happy and satisfied, as a priest and as your pastor. There is no other job in the world that I would rather be doing and there is no other parish in St. Louis where I could be happier! Which got me thinking about the homily for today. We were created for joy. You never hear someone say, “You know, this whole joy thing is not for me. I wish I had a little bit more misery in my life.” Humans are created for joy, but we come to realize that it’s not something we can just buy at the local Wal-Mart, not even the one here in Shrewsbury. Think about the most joyful moments of your life. Isn’t it true they were often unplanned and unexpected?

Mary Magdalene had been there at the foot of the Cross and had seen Jesus die. Crucifixion was no joke. It was such a horrible way to die that the Romans eventually outlawed it. Mary Magdalene was not expecting an empty tomb. She knew that Jesus had really died and when she sees the empty tomb, she doesn’t know what to think. So she runs and tells Peter and John. They both run to the tomb. I guess John had been more faithful to his P90X workouts than Peter, and he beat him to the tomb. He looks in, and then he waits for Peter. Peter was appointed the first Pope and so John wanted to let him go in first. Peter enters the tomb, and then John goes in. What they didn’t see surprised them.

The body of Jesus was gone. The burial clothing was there, but the body was gone. Actually the Greek says that the burial clothing was lying there in its folds. It seemed that the body of Jesus had just evaporated and left the clothes lying there. Imagine their surprise. What has happened? Then the gospel says that John saw and believed. He believed that Jesus had risen from the dead! The surprise must have overwhelmed him. But as he began to believe, he was filled with joy.

Joy is the best response to Easter. Who could have ever imagined that death could be conquered? That’s what Easter means. Your death and my death is not the end. Just as Jesus rose from the dead we will rise from the dead. Body and soul, we will live forever. Suffering does not have the last word. Death does not have the last word. The love of God, given to us in Jesus Christ has the last word. This is why our psalm proclaims: “This is the day the Lord has made, let us REJOICE and be glad!” On Easter, we should allow ourselves to be filled with joy brought on by the miracle of the Risen Jesus.

A nurse tells a story about one Easter Sunday that some of you might be able to relate to if you've had to work on a holiday. There’d been a last-minute scheduling problem at the long-term addiction-treatment center where she worked and she was stuck with the Easter Sunday shift. Of course, this messed up her family celebration and she was in a bad mood. Instead of wearing her Easter best, she was wearing a work uniform. Instead of thinking positive thoughts or praying during her drive to work, she was caught up in self-pity and resentment that she had to be away from her family and their celebration of Easter. She described how that bitterness continued all day, until one of the rehab patients came up to her after dinner. This patient quietly said, "I have something for you.” Looking down, she saw a little cross of intricately woven palm fronds. “Thank you for giving up your holiday to be with us,” he said.

The nurse's eyes filled with tears as she realized her patients wished they could be with their families too. But they don’t get to go home at the end of the day the way she did. Most of them won’t get to go home for months. The rest of the day she worked with a renewed spirit, realizing that God had brought joy out of a situation where she had only seen the negatives.

True joy is a gift from God; it's not just smiling and acting happy. God will never force joy on us: we have to help prepare our hearts so that this gift can take root in us and be authentic. Here are 3 practical suggestions to help us. You might call it spiritual GPS.

The "G" stands for gratitude. A wise saying states that a grateful heart silences a complaining tongue. If we’re always griping, how will the Holy Spirit fill our hearts with joy? If we want more joy in our lives, let’s start by being grateful. A simple way to do this is to write down a couple things we're grateful for each day. You’ll be amazed.

The "P" stands for prayer. Ask the Holy Spirit for the gift of joy. Joy is the result of our relationship with Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit is the one who makes Christ present to us.

Finally, the "S" stands for sharing. If you’re not feeling very joyful, try to bring joy into someone else’s life and you’ll be astounded at what happens in your own heart. Call someone, smile at someone, do something kind. Joy flows from these acts of charity.

I hope that today's celebration of Easter is a source of joy for you and your loved ones. I pray that you follow the example of the apostles and Mary and spread that joy generously to the world around you!

Good Friday

We wear it around our necks. We place it in the rooms of our homes, schools, and hospitals. We put it on the top of our buildings and people say, "That must be a Church. That person must be a Christian.” It is the best known symbol of Christianity. It is the cross. Why? Do we use the cross simply to remember the actual events that took place some 2,000 years ago? On one hand, yes; we remember the specific day in history when the God manifested his love for us by allowing His Son to die the most shameful death so that he could restore us to the life lost by our sinfulness. But the cross is more than a memory. It is the living call from our Savior to love as He loved, to love with a sacrificial love that holds nothing back. It is a reminder that his love can never be overwhelmed by the darkness of sin or death. 

The cross, originally an instrument of the worst type of shame and torture, has been transformed by the Lord into an instrument of love. It is an eternal testament to the power of God; he can take the worst possible thing and turn it into a symbol of life, hope, and renewal. For this reason, We come to the cross this evening with a mixture of gratitude, awe, and sorrow. We will touch and kiss the crucifix as a concrete way of expressing these emotions to the Lord. We come and ask Jesus to help us love as He loved, to live in a way that puts others before ourselves. We come to the cross this evening and we give Jesus our sins, our pains, and our sorrows. We know in our hearts that we ourselves are in some way also culpable. Our own sins have, in some way, contributed to his Passion and Death. We experience a whole range of emotions from grief on the one hand right through to culpability on the other.

Each of us comes here tonight with our own crosses. Some are sick, battling illness, cancer, depression, or mental illness. Others are lonely, dissatisfied, overwhelmed or restless. Still more might feel rejected, uncertain about the future, separated from God. ”How am I going to make it through these difficulties?” many of you ask every day. God’s answer is found in the outstretched arms of Christ crucified. He invites us to come to the cross. Give your problems and challenges to the Lord and know that no matter what happens, as the mystic Julien of Norwich wrote, "All will be well.” For when everything is placed in the hands of the one who died for us, every challenge, every difficulty that life throws at us becomes a prayer united to the power and prayers of our Crucified Savior. Come to the cross! Unite the challenges of your lives to the cross. And know that the One who loved you, who loved us, to the death, will also love us to life. 

5th Sunday of Lent (Year C)

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            As I begin the homily today, I have to say one thing. If you have never done anything wrong or, perhaps more plausibly, if you have never been caught doing something wrong, this homily is not for you. As a matter of fact, you might just want to take a little break in the back of church. For the rest of you, who stayed in your seats and for myself as well, we all know what it is like to get caught doing something wrong. It is that horrible sinking sort of feeling where you feel the world start to swirl and it becomes difficult to think clearly. Maybe you get a lump in your throat, break out in a cold sweat, or dream of a life in a far-away island. Oftentimes we feel angry with ourselves because we KNEW it was a bad idea and we did it anyway OR if we would have listened to so-and-so this wouldn't have happened. Some people totally melt down and become emotional. Others get aggressive or try to make excuses for why they were doing something they shouldn't have. In any and every case, I think one thing is consistent: getting caught doing something wrong, whether that is lying, cheating, stealing, gossiping, or lusting is an awful feeling, one that probably helps us behave more than we would like to.

            Remembering those terrible experiences in our own lives, prepares us to enter into the powerful scene of today's gospel. This incident occurred during one of Israel's great holidays. Thousands of pilgrims had flocked to Jerusalem to celebrate the Feast Day. Many of them camped on the hillsides outside the city or stayed with relatives in nearby towns. These kind of living circumstances, combined with the festive atmosphere, of eating and drinking, lent itself to imprudent situations in which temptations could easily present themselves. This woman fell into one of those temptations. And she was caught red-handed. Whoever caught her - maybe her own husband, or maybe the wife of the man she was committing adultery with - was furious. They turned her in to the Pharisees, Israel's moral and legal authorities, known for their strict adherence to the Law, a law which called for her to be put to death in a brutal way. Can you imagine how she felt as she was dragged off by this merciless group? Can't you almost sense her helplessness, her anger at herself, her resignation to the fact that her time here on earth was almost over because of one bad decision.

             But instead of taking her outside the walls of the city, they bring this woman to Jesus. You see, these Pharisees aren't so interested in upholding the Mosaic Law nor are they necessarily outraged at this woman's sin. Rather they see her as a pawn, as the perfect opportunity to trick Jesus into condemning himself. If Jesus said that the woman should be spared, then they would say that he was ignoring the Law of Moses, a sacred law which had pride of place since it was believed to have come from God himself. And if he said that the Mosaic law should be upheld and that the woman should be stoned, then they would have him between a rock and a hard place because only the Romans could pronounce a death sentence in the occupied land of Palestine. So this is where things stood. A woman kneeling on the ground, humiliated, ashamed of her guilt, certain of her death, surrounded by the Pharisees who have brought her to Jesus in a cold, calculated move.

           The answer that Christ gives them stops them in their tracks and I suspect it must have shocked the woman as well. "Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” After this perfect response, Jesus bends down and continues to write in the dust, what we do not know. But we do know that one by one, the Pharisees went away, starting with the elders, the ones who were the most respected and wise. This incredible encounter should be much more than a good story to you and me. It should take our breath away as we journey through these final days of the Lenten season and approach the sacred events which brought about our salvation. The confrontation between Jesus and the Pharisees and his treatment of the woman provide us with plenty to ponder as we contemplate the difference between how God views the sinner and how humans deal with those who have done wrong.

            Our society is very similar to the Pharisees in this regard. We live in a culture that allows everything and yet forgives nothing. How often have we become caught up in the sins or faults of other people, either by gossip or making rash judgments? How often have we been quick to judge without knowing all of the facts or even rejoiced in the downfall of someone whom we disliked? Haven't we all held unreasonable expectations for other people while making excuses for ourselves or expecting the mercy that we had denied to those who failed us? Despite the coming of Christ and the redemption he brought, our culture still demands an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Many Christians, forgetting the mercy they have been shown, buy into this mentality and become modern-day Pharisees.

            Contrast this with how Jesus treats the woman. After the Pharisees have all left, he asks her "Woman, where are they? 
Has no one condemned you?” When she answers that no one has condemned her, he says those beautiful words, “Neither do I condemn you." If anyone could have condemned her, it would have been Christ. He is God, he can see the heart, he knows the evils of lust and adultery, and how serious they are. And yet he shows mercy, compassion, and forgiveness. Jesus was the only one who had the right to throw the first stone and he gave up that right so the sinner might have new life and come to love God in a deeper way. But Jesus does not ignore the woman's sin; he doesn't say that it was no big deal or not to worry about it. To do so would be a terrible lack of love for her and her soul. He tells her that she is forgiven and she should go and sin no more.

       In our own way, we are all like the woman in today's gospel, full of shame, full of sin, deserving of condemnation. Each of us relies on the healing power of our Merciful and Compassionate Lord because all of us have sinned. Not one of us is worthy to cast the first stone at our neighbor. Therefore, let us stand before the Lord, not in the hypocritical arrogance of the Pharisees, but in the humility of the woman who was forgiven. Let us make regular use of the sacrament of reconciliation where we encounter the mercy and forgiveness of Christ. And then let us resolve to move forward, doing our best to go and sin no more. 

Coming Home (4th Sunday of Lent, Year C)

To listen to this homily, click here.

The beautiful thing about our gospel reading today, the prodigal son, is that it is such a human story. Many human emotions and desires we know so well are explored and explained. 

The so-called prodigal son wants to leave home, to go his own way, and find independence from the family. Where the prodigal son goes wrong is that he uses his newfound independence to reject the values which his parents spent so much effort trying to help him acquire. Perhaps he felt life at home was unnecessarily restrictive, he wanted freedom and the ability to make his own choices. 

This desire to leave home and to be on one's own is absolutely normal, necessary, and good. But unfortunately it is often motivated by naive assumptions and short-term thinking. Frequently during the teenage years children feel that the parents no longer love them and that they are being unnecessarily restrictive. Often young people don't recognize that changes are actually going on within themselves and it may not be their parents who are acting any differently.

'You're cramping my style,' or “quit trying to run my life” might be phrases we have heard on the lips of our children. But, of course, something like it came out of our mouth long before it came from theirs. It is part of the human condition that we feel the need to make our own mistakes. Frequently this is the only way we can learn. 

The task of the parent is to give the child such a good foundation in life and Christian values so that any mistake the child might make enables them to learn without it becoming such a damaging mistake that they ruin their lives in the process. Easy for me to say, but not so easy to do. 

Back to our parable. It had all gone very wrong for the prodigal son. It seemed like a smart move to take his inheritance and move on with his own life. Never mind that he still had a responsibility to work the land his father had given him and support his father. Never mind that the land was a sacred portion of the family's heritage, not to be sold; the son had his own life and desires; so he sold it and moved on to what he hoped were greener pastures. He had a wild time, and made a lot of friends, all of whom forgot who he was when the money ran out. He found himself in the worst situation of his life. He knew his father wouldn't let him starve, and he had to admit that he was happier before he left his father, even with the responsibilities and expectations. So he took the difficult step of turning back home. And his homecoming was more than he could ever have imagined. 

Each of us has moments in life where we make mistakes and become the prodigal son. We call these sins and it’s usually because we try to convince ourselves that something, which we know is wrong, is, in this case, right. If we have enough courage to admit it, we soon realize that we are no longer happy. We can't be at war with God and at peace with ourselves. We can try, but it won't work. And when we are not at peace with ourselves, we are overwhelmed with what we perceive is the darkness of others. This is simple transference, transference of our feelings about ourselves onto others. We are masters of transference. As a result we have a difficult time seeing beauty, truth and goodness in the world. But when we can muster up the courage to say to God, "Father, I'm sorry," and realize that God responds, "You are forgiven,” we become happy with ourselves and with our world. We still recognize sin in the world, but this negativity takes a back seat to our sense of the overwhelming goodness of God’s creation. As a priest who has the privilege of hearing confessions, I get to see the moment of transformation, when someone experiences God’s forgiveness and is filled with hope, not only for themselves but for others, for the world. 

The Forgiving Father runs out to meet his son. He doesn’t wait for the Prodigal to finish his little speech about how unworthy he is or why he should only be considered a slave. The Father is overwhelmed with joy. The son also felt the joy of being forgiven and restored to a loving relationship with the Father. 

The elder son seems to have cause to be upset. He did the right thing throughout his life. He worked his portion of the inheritance, his two thirds of the property, for his father. He suffered through his brother's insulting of the father. There is nothing that gets us angrier than when someone we love is offended. But he let this anger control him. 

A banquet is thrown, but the elder son refused to enter. The Father who was offended had forgiven the Prodigal but the elder son refused to forgive. In scripture a banquet is a way of expressing the intimate sharing of God's life. The Elder Son separated himself from the intimacy of his Father's love because he refused to forgive his brother. We separate ourselves from the intimacy of God's love when we refuse to forgive others who have sinned against us or those we love. 

We all have battle stories. We have all had people who have consciously and callously hurt us. I've been offended and so have you. But if we don't forgive those who have hurt us, we will be keeping ourselves out of the banquet of God's intimacy. "Father, you don’t know what he or she did or said. I am taking my anger to the grave.” Who does that really hurt? If we want to receive God's forgiveness, we have to give God's forgiveness. If we don't forgive we will end up standing outside the banquet griping and grousing, separated from God's love. At the conclusion of the parable, only the Elder Son is absent from the banquet. And he is absent by his own choice, he has ostracized himself. 

"This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” That’s right. He welcomes us and eats with us. He shows us a better way to live, a way to live free from sin. The Parable of the Prodigal Son, Forgiving Father and Elder Brother is a brilliant depiction of our human condition, our foibles, and the unlimited compassion that God offers us if we are willing to turn from sin and hatred. May our parish family be defined by this forgiveness and enjoy the freedom and peace that it brings!

The Purpose of Lent (3rd Sunday of Lent, Year C)

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Count the Stars (2nd Sunday of Lent, Year C)

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              The power of sight is a great gift and if it is lost or impaired, it is frightening. I can speak to this personally from an incident in high school when one of my classmates was goofing around after the teacher left the room. He three a piece of candy at another student but it hit me in the face and caused bleeding in my eye. I was unable to see in that eye for several days until the swelling and bleeding stopped. But you don't need a major injury to your eyes to appreciate your sight. Even something as minor as losing our glasses or a contact lens reminds us how much we rely on our vision. We all know how hard it is to go somewhere we can't see, either literally with our own eyes or symbolically with our mind's eye.

              This is what God does with Abram in the first reading today. Abram and his wife Sarai are childless. But they long for a son to carry on the family name. God takes Abram outside and says something strange. “Look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can. Just so shall your descendants be.” That’s an amazing promise. If you've ever tried to count the stars on a clear, dark night, you know how impossible that would be. But God promises Abram that his descendants will be that numerous.

However there’s more. If God had taken Abram outside at night and told him to count the stars it would be amazing enough. But it seems God took him outside during the day!

              Later in the reading it says when the sun had set and it was dark, the Lord made a covenant with Abram. So it was still daylight when God told Abram to count the stars. This required a leap of faith for Abram. A deep, terrifying darkness surrounded Abram because God asked him to believe without seeing. He asked “Do you believe in me and in my promise even though you don’t see the stars?” Abram moves past the darkness of doubt, believes, and later he has a son, Isaac. And Abram comes to be known as Abraham, which means “Father of a multitude.” From this one old man and his wife comes an entire nation, we call Israel.

              In our own lives, God will ask us the same question, "will you believe in me, will you follow, even though you cannot see?" There are times when we can’t see the star of God’s promise, but he asks us to believe: not in an idea, but in a person, in him. He asks us to entrust ourselves to Him. So we can say, along with St Paul, “We walk by faith, not by sight.” Some people might think of this as blind faith but it's not really blindness; it’s actively entrusting our lives to the God who loves us. 

              In 1981 a Jesuit priest in Jamaica faced a decision that would change his life forever. Fr. Richard Ho Lung was a popular professor at the University of the West Indies. His career was a success. His life was comfortable and secure. But then God asked him for a new level of faith. The poverty in Kingston, Jamaica, kept haunting him, and he knew God was asking him to do something for the poorest of the poor. On May 20th, 1980, a fire destroyed Eventide, a squalid residence for Kingston’s abandoned poor. 150 people died in the fire, and Fr. Richard realized the time to act had come. God was asking him to build centers in Kingston to care for the poor, and create communities where they could finally experience love. But this would mean leaving everything he had accomplished as a professor. It would mean leaving what he knew behind. It meant, like Abram, God was asking him to look up and count stars he could not see.

              “I was in torture,” Fr. Richard said, “I wept and prayed about this. It meant giving up my two Masters and my Doctorate.” But he trusted in God, and began a group called the Missionaries of the Poor to care for the destitute. He had no resources except 4 friends, and all of them lived in one borrowed room. Eventually the bishop donated a residence to use as they welcomed the poor who were flocking to them. Today, the Missionaries of the Poor number over 500, and have missions in 8 countries. Like Abram, Fr. Richard believed in God’s promise. He walked by faith and not by sight. 

              What do the stories of Abraham and Fr. Richard mean for us today? Is it possible that we too, are called to walk by faith? The answer, terrifying yet true, is "yes".

              How do we develop this ability to walk by faith and not by sight? What is a practical way to start taking those baby steps towards trusting God with everything? I’d like to propose one simple thing. Each day, ask the Lord: “Where are you leading me today?” Lent is a perfect time to do this, since it’s a time to turn to God in a deeper way. Every time we ask that question, we’re making an act of faith in God. We may not know exactly where he’s leading us. We may not know exactly what will happen today. In fact St Philip Neri used to say, “Lord, help me to get through today, and I won’t worry about tomorrow.” But when we ask God to lead, we’re handing our lives over to him. Don't wait until tomorrow; start today! In the silent time after communion, tell the Lord what’s on your hearts, and to ask Him: Lord, where are you leading me today?” Wake up and do it again tomorrow. Like Abraham, we can begin to walk by faith, knowing that God is leading us home towards him, towards heaven.

Why are We Tempted? (1st Sunday of Lent)

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There is a story told of four different ministers who decided to take some time off together to get away from their congregations and to learn more about each another. They found a nice rustic cabin in the woods, far away from the parish phones and emails and drop-in appointments. As luck would have it, these four ministers were from different faith traditions but they shared a love for ministry in common. There was a rabbi, a protestant minister, a priest and a permanent deacon. After a couple of days swapping war stories and commiserating, they decided to tell each other their biggest temptation. 

The rabbi went first and said, "Well, it's kind of embarrassing, but my big temptation is looking at ebay for hours. Once I was late to my own sabbath service because I was trying to win an item." 

"My temptation is worse," said the protestant minister. "It's gambling. One Saturday instead of preparing a fire-and-brimstone sermon I went to the race track to bet on horses." 

"Mine is worse still," said the priest. "I sometimes can't control the urge to drink. One time I got so desperate I actually dipped into the sacramental wine." 

The permanent deacon was strangely quiet. "friends, I hate to say this," he said, "but my temptation is worst of all. I love to gossip - and if you will excuse me, I have some phone calls to make!" 

You don’t have to be a priest, deacon, or rabbi to be tempted. We all have temptations. Everyone who has lived, from Adam and Eve, to you and me, has to deal with this inconvenient truth. As we enter the first Sunday of Lent, let’s address a difficult question: Why does God allow the devil to tempt us? Why doesn’t he make it easier to love him and to do his Divine Will? Why can’t he make our good choices easier and our bad choices harder?  

In today’s gospel we hear that even Jesus experienced temptation. Luke tells us He was "led by the spirit into the desert to be tempted by the devil." The Spirit actually led him to place where he would be tested. God allowed these temptations to take place because they have a purpose. They are not just the result of God being distracted or falling asleep at the switch!

But what are some of the reasons God allows us to be tempted? Is there something good that comes out of them? The first reason that God allows the devil to tempt us is to expose our real selves. I remember the first time I took the test for my motorcycle license. I had driven motorcycles before, mostly off-road and was very comfortable on them. I read through the little book and aced the written test. When I arrived the next day to take the driving test, I hadn’t practiced with my brother’s sport bike (why would I need to?!) Instead, I spent the time waiting, looking with snobbish disgust at the swarms of drivers waiting to test for some lame and wimpy car with four wheels. Finally my time came and I took the motorcycle driving test. After smashing a number of innocent little cones and nearly laying the bike on the ground, I failed the test. Miserably.     

That temptation of pride exposed my true faults. I was nowhere near as strong or capable as I thought. This painful awareness of personal weakness had a positive side - it gave me a sense of my personal limits. Without these failures, we can be tempted to think that we are more than we actually are, that we are little gods to be admired by the world. Sooner or later, temptation teaches us a valuable lesson in humility. 

When we recognize our true self, our own weaknesses, we grow in humility - and that leads to the second purpose of temptation: To acknowledge dependence on God. In response to the devil's temptations, Jesus says that we do not live on bread alone, "but on every word that comes forth from the mouth of God." When we see temptation’s true danger, we can and should fall to our knees. We see this even in Jesus.  He went into the desert for forty days, to be on his knees, so that he could resist the temptations of the devil.

When we give in to temptation and sin, we make ourselves loners in the worst sense. In the beginning, we might feel like we are being set free from pesky rules and guilt, but in fact we are falling into bondage. On the other hand, to resist temptation requires God's help. It takes humility to ask for help, but in the end it leads to freedom. A classic example is alcohol. A person might think, "I am free to do what I want. I can have as drinks as I please. I am free." That person becomes a slave - to alcohol and ultimately to other things. But the person who recognizes his powerlessness and entrusts himself to a Higher Power becomes free. 

From this I think you can see the third purpose of temptation. When we resist temptation, we get stronger. On the other hand, when we fall into a temptation, we get weaker. We become more vulnerable to other temptations too. But if we turn away from one of those temptations - even the smallest one - we gain strength and can resist them better. 

Now let me be crystal-clear about one thing; temptation has a purpose. Because God is almighty and loving, he can make good come out it. But that doesn’t mean we go looking for trouble! I don’t want you all leaving church thinking: “Fr. Schroeder says we should all go and get tempted so that we can learn humility and trust in God. We must avoid temptation and those near occasions of sin; this is an obligation for all of us. However, when unavoidable temptations come our way, we can have hope knowing that with God’s help they will actually make us stronger, better Christians. 

As we begin Lent this year, I invite you to think about what it is that tempts you. Is it lust, laziness, greed, pride, gossip, selfishness, comfort, self-pity, food, or drink? What are our spiritual soft spots that make it easy to wander away from God? This season is an opportunity to examine our soul and our life and honestly assess where we are weak and where we need to grow. 

All of us are weak in some way, but each time we stand with Jesus, each time we resist temptation, we gain power. That power ultimately does not belong to us, but to God. The power is real, but it is never our own. So let us humble ourselves in God’s sight so that his strength might be at work in our lives. May we constantly acknowledge the fact that we depend on Him to lead a good life and to be good people. And finally, let us thank God for his strength, which can bring good out of temptation and power out of weakness.