One of the most fascinating moments in American history is when George Washington could have become the king of the newly liberated United States and didn’t. At the height of his power and fame, on Dec. 23, 1783, he resigned his commission as Commander-in-Chief, and went home. The astonished King of England remarked that in doing so, Washington was “the greatest man in the world.” Greatness is often defined by what we could do but don’t. Greatness is measured by the temptations we overcome.

One of the things that older pastors and younger priests occasionally quarrel about is the proper balance between work and prayer. I know one pastor who complains that his younger associate ignores the people and the parish because he wants to spend more time in prayer. And the young priest complains that the pastor gives him too much work to do and no time to pray. The Lord’s words this Sunday speak into this tension with an image that can help us find a proper balance between life and prayer.

One of my favorite new singers/songwriters is Noah Kahan. I’m a little biased because, like me, he is originally from Vermont. In a fine song entitled “Stick Season,” he sings of his hope to “cancel out the darkness I inherited from dad.” This lyric articulates his painful recognition of a dark spiritual “inheritance” from his father, and his hope to be free of it. We all inherit some degree of evil from our earthly forebears. It’s easy to feel doomed to repeat their darknesses.

I craved four things as a teenager: success in sports, food, fun and the attention of popular people. However, I noticed that as I acquired them, I was more unsatisfied than before. So, I’d strive even more energetically, achieve more, and the sense of emptiness was greater still. These four things started to feel like burdens or even curses. Soon after, I encountered Christ in my high school youth group. Experiencing his love was totally different than anything those four things previously produced. It produced a lasting happiness.

My parents’ garage is full of old junk that no longer serves any purpose in my life. As a 46-year-old man, I admit that’s pretty lame. Either due to my sentimentality or laziness (or both, probably), I just couldn’t get myself to throw things away. But a few days ago, by a grace of God, I thought: “I’ll hire my nephew Ryan to throw a bunch of my stuff away — he couldn’t care less about my junk!” And you know what? It worked. In one day, Ryan chucked the majority of his uncle’s useless stuff. I feel so free, ready for a new junk-free chapter in my life.

What is the secret to sharing in God’s power to overcome our difficulties? Mary teaches us this in the prophecy of her pierced heart. This Sunday, the old man Simeon, prophecies that when her son faces opposition, Mary’s soul will be pierced by a sword. The seemingly pointless agony of a mother helplessly watching her son be mocked, tortured, killed and then cruelly desecrated in death by a spear — somehow this piercing of her heart releases a power by which “the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed” (Luke 2:35). What to make of this?