Grateful for Fortitude: the Spirit’s Paradox

When my son Jacob was an infant, he wore an endearing pajama shirt with a patch on the front that read “Brave & Strong.” That message on a sweet, vulnerable baby always made us smile. It was a paradox of courage and vulnerability, two things that seem to oppose one another but actually make the other possible. As I explore this paradox, I wonder how a person can show courage in the midst of vulnerability. I can’t think of one time when I felt brave and didn’t also feel vulnerable. Vulnerability may look like fear of failure, a lack of confidence, heartache or pain and, finally, feeling attacked or humiliated even to the point of death. Courage, though, helps us to act for the good of oneself or another despite these difficulties.


We often pray for strength and, at times, courage. Strength for the journey and courage to face what lies ahead. For if we had strength and courage enough, we feel we could face anything. In fact, the Church has a name for this: fortitude. A gift of the Holy Spirit, fortitude is characterized by what St. Thomas Aquinas described as “a firmness of mind and spirit that helps us in difficult situations.” It’s like an armor we wear and a shield we use that cannot be broken. It derives from the Latin word, fortis, meaning: strong, powerful, vigorous, steadfast, courageous and brave.


I prayed for fortitude every morning that I stepped into my classroom as a first-year teacher in Oklahoma City in 1994. I taught 9th and 10th graders at a Catholic high school. So much of my knowledge of Catholic teachings was in my head and I struggled to speak these truths in a language these teens would understand and find compelling. I’m not sure how much theology I actually taught them, but I do know that I uncovered a part of myself I had not intended to reveal. Call it vulnerability or weakness, it was clear within the first week that I was not wholly prepared for the challenge. I discovered that my new skills as an educator only covered the basics. Beyond the content, I had quite a bit to learn about classroom management and teacher-student relationships. As I had low confidence and a little fear, I prayed daily for whatever it was I needed to just get through the day. Looking back, I realize now that the first thing I needed was fortitude in order to just walk through the classroom door.


“The willingness to show up changes us. It makes us a little braver each time.” – Brene Brown


I began to realize that it was going to take time to grow in my confidence and skill as a teacher. In many ways, I had to relearn what I assumed I already knew about teenagers. After all, it was not so long ago that I was in their shoes. Teenagers are super curious, but they test boundaries to decipher between what’s real and what’s just lip-service. They basically demanded that I be authentic, just and kind. They needed me to offer ways to change and grow in a safe environment, to forgive them daily and to admit when I had said or done the wrong thing. Often, though, they just needed me to realize that not everything had to be so serious and to understand what they faced as they stepped through that same door. As a 22-year-old, I barely knew who I was. I had gotten through school and life by feigning perfection and pretending that I had it all together. I did everything in my power to hide my vulnerability and weaknesses. I needed to appear strong. The teenagers, though, needed me to be real, weaknesses and all.


“Vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage.” – Brene Brown


In the classroom, I learned that I can allow myself the time it takes to become who I am meant to be, and I can give others the permission to do the same. Somehow, I made it through the first two years of teaching. And I can even claim a few sound relationships and transformative moments in the classroom. Fortitude, along with permission to live and learn from my vulnerability, carried me through those initial years. Both fortitude and vulnerability continue to embolden and unsteady me now. I believe it is yet another paradox. The unsteadiness of vulnerability reminds me that I must remain open to new possibilities and growth.


Here I will give an illustration of a fantastical fictive account of fortitude and vulnerability. Over this past Christmas break, Jacob and Sam were home from college and we decided to watch J.R.R. Tolkien’s story, “The Lord of the Rings,” in its extended three-volume movie version over the course of three days. As I immersed myself in this epic saga, I discovered that the character who I would describe as showing a surprising amount of fortitude and vulnerability was Samwise (Sam) Gamgee, a hobbit and best friend of Frodo Baggins. Sam wasn’t perfect; he had little patience and was insecure about his role in the quest. Despite this, Sam showed such loyalty to Frodo that he wouldn’t have dreamed of leaving him on this often treacherous journey until Frodo, himself, sent him away. When Frodo became desperate, Sam reappeared and stayed with him, even as Frodo’s temperament grew dark and distrusting. Upon returning to Frodo, Sam felt invigorated to see the quest of destroying The Ring through to the end. In a moving scene, Sam says, “Come, Mr. Frodo! I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you!” and then carried Frodo up to the entrance of Mount Mordor as lava spewed out and the way through seemed impossible. He revealed his vulnerabilities many times, as did Frodo, and still they continued on the journey with greater zeal than before. In the end, Sam’s fortitude ensured the Ring was destroyed. 


“Staying vulnerable is a risk we have to take if we want to experience connection.” – Brene Brown


My third example of fortitude and vulnerability includes my good friend, Rose, who takes care of her mother who has Alzheimer’s disease. Her mother lives at an assisted living facility, and her mental decline has been rapid and disconcerting for their family. Four days a week, Rose steels herself for a visit that will inevitably include her mother’s inability to recognize Rose. Her mother is listless and sometimes in her own world. Yet, Rose goes to see her without fail. I believe it is fortitude that prompts Rose to keep reaching out to her mom. With courage to face the reality of her mother’s mental decline and the vulnerability of facing the weaknesses apparent therein, Rose reflects on her mother’s legacy and hopes she can safeguard what she can. With tears in her eyes, Rose tells me that she wishes her mother could live her remaining years with the grace and dignity she knew for most of her life even though she now has dementia.


“[God] said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness. So I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me… whenever I am weak, then I am strong.” –St. Paul (2 Corinthians 12:9-10)


Finally, I must consider Jesus. Throughout Jesus’ ministry on this earth, he never once swayed from his mission of spreading God’s love and mercy through encounters of teaching and healing. In the sight of the scribes and Pharisees, he touched the unclean, forgave sins knowing he’d be accused of blasphemy, and called disciples from the margins of society. He dined with tax collectors and sinners. Even when his own family claimed he was “out of his mind” (Mark 3:21), Jesus reframed ‘family’ to mean all who do the will of God. He was adept at turning honor challenges on their heads when he responded to the Pharisees and scribes who tried to prove he was demonic or a heretic. He responded with fortitude and laid bare the reality of God’s truth. Vulnerable to the end, Jesus was put to death by those who did not understand or accept his message of salvation. By his death and resurrection, Jesus showed how in weakness we are made strong. 


The life and ministry of Jesus gives us a clear example of the paradox of courage and vulnerability. Filled with God’s grace, Jesus showed us that God is with us, even in our weakness. Facing any type of vulnerability requires fortitude. This combination of courage and vulnerability helps us to continue to love and embrace the reality of our lives. Every time we reach out and connect with someone, we are creating a space for God’s love and mercy to flow. Whether for us or for the other person (usually for both), our willingness to risk failure opens us up to new life. Let us continue to be brave as we grapple with our vulnerabilities, for our strength and courage come from the Holy Spirit, God’s breath and life in the world.




Call to Action: In the comments below, share your own experience of fortitude, whether in your personal life or someone you know. In what ways did courage and vulnerability play a part?


Song for Contemplation: “Surface Pressure” sung by Jessica Darrow, Encanto soundtrack



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Making Room (revised 12/10/24)