Sacrifice, discipline and prayer are essential. We gain strength

Hear the voice of Lou Holtz, the coach who spoke with the wisdom of both the field and the spirit: “Sacrifice, discipline and prayer are essential. We gain strength through God’s word. We receive grace from the sacrament. And when we fumble due to sin—and it’s gonna happen—confession puts us back on the field.” These words, though wrapped in the imagery of sport, are in truth a sermon for life, a guide for those who struggle, fail, and rise again. For Holtz knew that the contests of the soul are greater than the games of men, and that victory is won not by perfection, but by perseverance in faith.

When he speaks first of sacrifice, discipline, and prayer, he names the pillars of spiritual training. Sacrifice tempers the heart, teaching it to surrender selfish desires for higher purpose. Discipline strengthens the will, binding the wandering soul to the path of virtue. Prayer unites the mortal to the eternal, drawing strength not from flesh but from God. Together, these three form the foundation of a life rooted in resilience, a life capable of facing both trials and triumphs.

Holtz reminds us also that we gain strength through God’s word. Just as an athlete studies the playbook, so too must the faithful study Scripture, for it equips the heart with wisdom and courage. In the pages of holy writ are stories of weakness turned to strength, despair turned to hope, death turned to life. To feed upon the Word is to drink from a well that never runs dry, to gird oneself with truth in a world of shadows.

And what of grace? Holtz declares: “We receive grace from the sacrament.” Here he points to the mysteries of the Church, where bread and wine become body and blood, where mortal souls taste the divine. Grace is not earned, but given—a strength beyond our strength, a mercy beyond our merit. It is grace that heals what discipline cannot, that lifts us when sacrifice falters, that renews us when prayer grows weary. It is the breath of God sustaining the athlete of the soul.

Yet Holtz, with the honesty of a seasoned warrior, admits: “We fumble due to sin—and it’s gonna happen.” Here is no false teaching of perfection, no illusion of faultlessness. He acknowledges the fall, the stumble, the error that every soul will know. But he does not leave us in despair. He points to confession, that sacred act of humility, where one lays bare the failure and receives absolution. Just as a coach sends the player back onto the field after a mistake, so confession restores the sinner to the game of life, cleansed and renewed.

History offers us examples of this truth. Consider King David, who, though anointed of God, stumbled into grave sin. Yet when he confessed with tears, he found forgiveness, and his story became one of redemption. His psalms remain a song for all generations, teaching that even the greatest fall may become the ground for the greatest rise. Holtz’s wisdom echoes this ancient truth: sin is real, but grace is greater; the fumble is certain, but so too is restoration.

The lesson for us is this: live with sacrifice, discipline, and prayer as your daily practice. Feed upon God’s Word and partake of His grace, for they are food for the journey. And when you fall—and you will—do not remain in shame. Rise, confess, be cleansed, and return to the field of life with courage renewed. For the mark of a champion is not that he never falls, but that he always rises again.

Practical actions are plain: examine your life daily; set aside what hinders your higher calling; pray without ceasing; draw strength from Scripture; and approach the sacraments with humility. And when you stumble in sin, do not hide, but seek forgiveness quickly, so that your spirit may be restored. Thus will your life become a testimony of resilience, a living echo of Holtz’s truth.

So let these words endure in your heart: “Confession puts us back on the field.” For life is not a single play, but a long contest. And those who endure to the end—strengthened by sacrifice, guided by discipline, uplifted by prayer, renewed by grace—shall not only finish, but finish in victory.