It would be very difficult to overstate the influence of Alasdair MacIntyre in philosophy and ethics, and even in theology. And given that medical ethics and bioethics are subsidiary domains of ethics, one could even see his influence in these areas as well. It is surprising, however, that all of the authors in this issue are not philosophers or theologians per se, but they are practitioners of medicine; they are engaged in practices, of which they are attempting to make sense through the lens of MacIntyre’s writings. They do not deal with ethics writ large in the sense of grand narratives or careful moral calculi, but with questions that are highly particular and central to their daily practices. In this issue of the Journal of Medicine and Philosophy, practitioners of surgery, pediatrics, internal medicine, and psychiatry begin to explore their practices and the problems that have arisen as they try to cure disease and to relieve suffering in a disquieting world. There is a sense in each essay that we live after virtue, whether that phrase is taken to mean that we live after the decline of a coherent story that ties the cacophonous proclamations of liberal autonomy or whether that phrase is taken to mean a chasing after virtue. We begin with that discipline that is most easily recognizable as a practice surgery. Surgery is clearly a practice best learned through apprenticeship. Surgery is a form of practical reasoning to solve problems. Hall’s essay gives us a glimpse into the practice of surgery. One stands over a body, completely covered, except for a small segment where the incision is made. Through these often small openings, one enters into the vast expanse of the world beyond the skin, where the surgery moves swiftly and deftly, with calm precision and clarity. Yet, for all this careful work, I as a medical student it all appeared as a blur of activity that confused rather than clarified. Hall’s description reminded me of the flurry of activity of my own surgical teacher, James “Red” Duke, and the flurry of activity that I could not see or understand as he attempted to stop a “bleeder,” but that nonetheless was like a well-defined work of performance art.