Sermon: Lent 4 – Heavenly Virtues / Prudence & Temperance 


The reign of Queen Victoria, known as the Victorian Era of the British Empire, lasted from 1837 to 1901. A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens primarily focuses on the French Revolution; however, Dickens, an Englishman, had Victorian London and its issues in mind while writing that great novel. He recognized that what was happening in Paris could very easily happen in London too, so the beginning of the book references both Paris and London and aptly captures the spirit of the Victorian Era. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.” 

During that era, there was a focus on morality, proper conduct, and manners. Therefore, Victorian etiquette was sometimes quite charming—we could still use some of it today—while at other times, downright silly.

One rule that was once good and should still be followed, although with the rise of smartwatches, it would never be reinstated, was: “Pulling out your watch in company unasked, either at home or abroad, is a mark of ill breeding… If at home, it appears as if you were tired of your company, and wish them to be gone; if abroad, as if the hours dragged heavily, and you wished to be gone yourself. If you want to know the time, withdraw.” On the sillier side, we have, “A lady should not ever say ‘my husband,’ except among intimates; in every other case she should always address him by his name, calling him ‘Mr.’ It is equally proper, except on occasions of ceremony, and while she is quite young, to designate him by his Christian name. Never use the initial of a person’s name to designate him; as ‘Mr. P.,’ ‘Mr. L.,’ etc. Nothing is so odious as to hear a lady speak of her husband, or, indeed, anyone else, as ‘Mr. B.’”

All of these rules point to a society governed by various regulations that are followed by many—primarily the elite—and scorned by others as being foolish. However, rules and laws, written or otherwise, have always been a fundamental part of any society. Aristotle noted, “At his best, man is the noblest of all animals; separated from law and justice, he is the worst.”

Today, we continue our study of the seven Heavenly Virtues. As you’ll recall, they are made up of the four Cardinal Virtues and the three Theological Virtues. In particular, today, we’ll look at temperance and prudence. Together, these speak of reason and wisdom in creating, applying, and observing laws and rules.

Technically, “Prudence is the virtue that disposes practical reason to discern our true good in every circumstance and to choose the right means of achieving it. It is not to be confused with timidity or fear, nor with duplicity or dissimulation. It is called auriga virtutum (the charioteer of the virtues); it guides the other virtues by setting rule and measure. It immediately guides the judgment of conscience.” “Temperance is the moral virtue that moderates the attraction of pleasures and provides balance in the use of created goods. It ensures the will’s mastery over instincts and keeps desires within the limits of what is honorable. The temperate person directs the sensitive appetites toward what is good and maintains a healthy discretion.” Those are the technical definitions and are supported by Holy Scripture, yet when I think about them in a less technical way, I think of paint-by-numbers.

As a kid, I’m sure most of us did dome paint-by-numbers. You’d get a nice 8×12 image of a bluebird or a dog and a dozen or so small pods of paint, along with a single paintbrush. They were fun and fairly simple projects. Now, as an adult, I’ve rediscovered paint-by-numbers. I have no idea why, but I can spend hours searching for 17s and be perfectly content. I recently finished my first one, and an example of that project is on the bulletin cover.

These are not the paint-by-numbers you did as a kid. Although it looks fairly complicated, this particular project is classified as beginner. How involved have I become? I have purchased an easel, scores of brushes, clear gesso to prepare the canvas before painting, and sealer for when it’s finished. I have watched hours of YouTube videos and studied techniques. Long story short: although I haven’t reached obsession level, I do invest a significant amount of time. The bonus: it’s cheaper than collecting antique cars.

Technically, prudence “guides the other virtues by setting rule and measure.” In paint-by-numbers, prudence is best represented by the lines. Let’s say that #17 is red. When you are painting 17s without any other color around it, you’ll have an odd-shaped patch of red in the middle of a field of white canvas. That odd-shaped patch of red might seem meaningless at first. It is just there. However, when finished, you might realize it’s part of the lips of the main subject. In the short term, the adherence to the lines, the rule of prudence, may not make much sense, but in the long term, without following the rules, something is amiss. Prudence, the lines, guide everything else.

Temperance “ensures the will’s mastery over instincts and keeps desires within the limits of what is honorable.” In the world of paint-by-numbers, which can be even more challenging with a cat that enjoys swatting at your brush, temperance is twofold. First, it means staying within the lines that prudence provides. Remember the first coloring a young child proudly delivers as a masterpiece? The page has a printed image of a floppy-eared bunny. The child, in their innocence, has taken the brightest of all the crayons, gripped them in one hand, and created a fine rendition of a Jackson Pollock. In paint-by-numbers, you can do the same—throw paint everywhere—and, though this is no judgment of your artistic flair, you too can create a Pollock, but you will never end up with the image you intended.

The second part of temperance is using the right color. I have a new project in progress. This one has much more vibrant colors than the last. When I got home Wednesday night, I sat down and started working on #6. However, at some point, I got it in my pointy little head that I was working on #16, and away I went. Then, things started to make no sense. Trusting the process, I pressed on for a while longer, but then it just started to look wrong. #6 is a nice olive green. #16 is a rather bright orange. Had I desired it, I could have continued, but instead, I went back and painted over what I had done with the correct color, and the image began to emerge once again. St. Paul tells us, “‘All things are lawful,’ but not all things are helpful. ‘All things are lawful,’ but not all things build up” (1 Corinthians 10:23). Temperance: just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should. 

Together, temperance and prudence speak of wisdom and reason in creating, applying, and following laws and rules. Adhere to the rules and laws, and in the end, you’ll likely end up with a fairly nice picture. You can see for yourself how I did. The finished painting is hanging in the lounge.

These two virtues, temperance and prudence, along with the two we discussed a few weeks ago—fortitude (spiritual courage) and justice (seeking the common good)—supported by humility, are known as the Cardinal Virtues. St. Augustine helps us understand their purpose and how they function together. “As to virtue leading us to a happy life, I hold virtue to be nothing else than perfect love of God. For the fourfold division of virtue, I regard as taken from four forms of love… So we may express the definition thus: that temperance is love keeping itself entire and incorrupt for God; fortitude is love bearing everything readily for the sake of God; justice is love serving God only, and therefore ruling well all else, as subject to man; prudence is love making a right distinction between what helps it towards God and what might hinder it.” (Source)

To live such a life and to love in such a way isn’t always easy, but it does not lead to a life void of color or flavor. Instead, it represents the highest calling and the fulfillment of who we were created to be. St. Peter writes, “Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation” (1 Peter 2:12). By practicing the Cardinal Virtues, we are well on our way to living such a life, but three more virtues are needed—the Theological Virtues of faith, hope, and love. As for these, I say… to be continued.

Let us pray (from St. Thomas Aquinas): Plant in me, O Lord, all virtues: that I may be devoted to divine things, provident in human affairs, and troublesome to no one in bodily cares. Grant me, O Lord, fervour in contrition, sincerity in confession, and completeness in satisfaction. Deign to direct my soul to a good life: that what I do may be pleasing to Thee, meritorious for myself, and edifying to my neighbour. Amen.

Sermon: Lent 1 – Series: The Heavenly Virtues


From the 6th to the 12th century, when the Church was seeking consistency in teaching and other matters of faith, it developed the Penitentials. These were specifically designed for confession. They outlined all the various sins and prescribed the appropriate penance. A few examples: “He who steals from a church shall do penance for one year; if from a layman, forty days,” “He who destroys another by slander shall fast seven days,” and “If a monk is drunk, he shall fast for three days on bread and water”—depending on how drunk the monk was, that may be more of a blessing than penance.

From these and other teachings that emerged, such as those from the Puritans and the Holiness Movement, many came to believe that the Church’s primary function was to tell people, “Thou shalt not,” “Don’t do this or that,” or, more simply, “No!” while wagging the finger.

The question might be, “Why did the Church go down this path?” There are long, complicated answers, but perhaps the most charitable is that the Church sought to help people live virtuous lives, lives that were holy and righteous in the eyes of God. That is not a bad thing. In fact, it is a very good thing; however, along the way, as with many good things, it was hijacked, and the desire to help people was transformed into a desire to control and manipulate them. At that point, the idea of living a virtuous life became a matter of ridicule and scorn. Elizabeth Taylor said, “The problem with people who have no vices is that generally you can be pretty sure they’re going to have some pretty annoying virtues.” And, speaking of a political rival, Winston Churchill wrote, “He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire.” 

In his autobiography, The Seven Storey Mountain, Thomas Merton wrote, “The word virtue: what a fate it has had in the last three hundred years! The fact that it is nowhere near so despised and ridiculed in Latin countries is a testimony to the fact that it suffered mostly from the mangling it underwent at the hands of Calvinists and Puritans. In our own days, the word leaves on the lips of cynical high-school children a kind of flippant smear, and it is exploited in theaters for the possibilities it offers for lewd and cheesy sarcasm. Everybody makes fun of virtue, which now has, as its primary meaning, an affectation of prudery practiced by hypocrites and the impotent—that is, those who rely on a holier-than-thou approach instead of actually living the call of the virtues.

I tell you all this because, during this Season of Lent, I don’t want to stand up here and say, “Thou shalt not” or “Don’t do that.” Instead, I would like to walk us through a study of the Seven Heavenly Virtues. Why? Because a virtuous life is really not boring or something to laugh at. Concerning such a life, Merton went on to say, “I was never a lover of Puritanism. Now, at last I came around to the sane conception of virtue-without which there can be no happiness, because virtues are precisely the powers by which we can come to acquire happiness: without them, there can be no joy, because they are the habits which coordinate and canalize—channel—our natural energies and direct them to the harmony and perfection and balance, the unity of our nature with itself and with God, which must, in the end, constitute our everlasting peace.” (The Seven Storey Mountain, p.203)

This Lent, let’s see if he is correct. Let’s see if we can discover happiness and everlasting peace in living a virtuous life.

To begin, where do the Seven Heavenly Virtues come from, and what are they? You might think they originated with the Church, but that is only partially true.

Writing in the first century, the Roman philosopher Cicero used the term “Cardinal Virtues” to identify the four virtues that Plato had already codified some five centuries earlier. The word “cardinal,” in this context, means hinge. According to the philosopher, the virtuous life hinges on or pivots around the observation of the four Cardinal Virtues. 

The first of these virtues is prudence or wisdom, which is the combination of knowledge, discernment, and right action. Second is justice, seeking the harmony and peace of the whole society. Third is fortitude or courage, grounded in internal strength, and fourth is temperance or self-control.

Later, Christian writers such as Thomas Aquinas would define these virtues from a Christian perspective. Through this lens, prudence is the discernment of God’s will and the acting accordingly; justice is the application of “love your neighbor as you love yourself,” without asking who your neighbor is; fortitude is the courage to face trials and evil without wavering; and, finally, temperance is moderation or balance.

These four Cardinal Virtues provide us with the first of the seven Heavenly Virtues. The remaining three are the Theological Virtues, and, as the name implies, they come to us through Holy Scripture. I suspect many of you know the verse from St. Paul’s definition of love in his first letter to the Corinthians—“So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love” (1 Corinthians 13:13).

Faith, hope, and love—we’ll look at them more closely in the coming weeks, but for now, faith gives us the grace to see the path that leads to God, hope is the grace to desire God, and love is the grace that enables us to participate in a life with God.

By combining the Cardinal Virtues of prudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance with the Theological Virtues of faith, hope, and love, we arrive at the seven Heavenly Virtues. However, before we can practice any of these, one other element is required. It can be considered a virtue in itself, but it is the root of all the others—humility. Humility is the grace God gives us, enabling us to know who we are and who God is (without confusing the two), combined with the ability to have a relationship with others without the involvement of ego or destructive self-criticism. Humility is about peacefully knowing our place.

Marcus Aurelius, considered one of the Five Good Roman Emperors, ruled the Empire in the late second century. In his personal journal, he wrote to himself, “Waste no more time arguing what a good man should be. Be one.” Grounded in humility, my prayer is that over the course of this Season of Lent, we will learn more about and begin to put into practice these Heavenly Virtues so that we can do just that and attain the true happiness and everlasting peace that Merton speaks of.

Let us pray: God, our Father, You redeemed us and made us Your children in Christ. Through Him, You have saved us from death and given us Your Divine life of grace. By becoming more like Jesus on earth, may we come to share His glory in Heaven. Give us the peace of Your kingdom, which this world does not give. By Your loving care, protect the good You have given us. Open my eyes to the wonders of Your Love that we may serve You with a willing heart. Amen.