More About Fortitude On This 18th Sunday after Pentecost to Start the Week Off Right

We're picking up where we left off last week with more on fortitude. Recall that we suggested we might need a good dose of this virtue as we face the consequences of some of the recent and ongoing decisions by our dysfunctional leaders, both civil and religious. 

And, lo and behold, today's an especially opportune time to do so. In the traditional Liturgical Calendar, it's the 18th Sunday after Pentecost. But "top billing" is given to St. Issac Jogues and Companions - our dear brave North American martyrs. If you don't know about them, and can spare a few Sunday minutes, take some time to make their acquaintance. The connection with fortitude will be unmistakable.

For now, to help us dig deeper into the virtue of fortitude we'll solicit the assistance of one of favorite spiritual writers, Father William Doyle. For those of you who don't recall Father's name from past posts, a quick refresher:

Father Doyle lived from 1873-1917. He was an Irish Jesuit (when Jesuits were real, authentically Catholic Jesuits!). The writings he left behind include publications, letters to individuals to whom he gave spiritual direction, and entries in his personal diary - among other sources. 

Over the years, I've grown to appreciate Father's writings more and more. That appreciation has led me to a website devoted to him. I now visit that website frequently. You may want to consider doing that if you've benefited from our posts that referenced his works. 

For today we'll focus on diary entries from his years as an army chaplain in World War I. We don't have time to get into all the details of his service, but here's a useful summary that will serve today's continuing discussion of "fortitude."

Father served as chaplain to the Irish Fusilliers, a group of Irish soldiers who agreed to fight for Great Britain against Germany, Austia-Hungary and the Ottoman Empire. His service took place in the trenches in France. If you know anything about World War I trench warfare, you know the horrors he dealt with daily. In 1917, he was killed while attending to wounded men on the battlefield.

In the course of his service, Father developed a reputation for incredible bravery. Many witnesses wrote of his apparent fearlessness while attending to his "boys," most especially during battles as the bullets and bombs were flying. Such witnesses came from both Irish Catholic sources and non-Catholic sources. Father made no distinctions in his charity. He tended to all, including German soldiers who were killed and wounded. I think we have enough to put the words we'll cite today in context.

Despite his apparent fearlessness and incredible bravery, Father wrote the following:

Sometimes God seems to leave me to my weakness and I tremble with fear.

He never let such feelings keep him from what he considered his duties. If you read his diary entries during the war, you'll find that he constantly and urgently depended on God's grace in the face of such feelings. He knew how he felt, and in those moments when he was tempted to slack off or run from danger, his prayers were always that God sustain him. He was fully confident in the protection God provided, although he did recognize the possibility that he could be killed.

Even though none of us is likely facing the dangers Father Willie (as he is affectionately known) did, I think these passages will help to bolster our courage. Here's one describing one dire encounter with danger. Notice how Father deals with the overwhelming fear he felt, what he thought of as he turned to God for assistance:

On we hurried in the hope of reaching cover which was close at hand, when right before us the enemy started to put down a heavy barrage, literally a curtain of shells, to prevent reinforcements coming up. There was no getting through that alive and, to make matters worse, the barrage was creeping nearer and nearer, only fifty yards away, while shell fragments hummed uncomfortably close. Old shell holes there were in abundance, but every one of them was brim full of water, and one would only float on top. Here was a fix! Yet somehow I felt that though the boat seemed in a bad way, the Master was watching even while He seemed to sleep, and help would surely come. In the darkness I stumbled across a huge shell-hole crater, recently made, with no water. Into it we rolled and lay on our faces, while the tempest howled around and angry shells hissed overhead and burst on every side. For a few moments I shivered with fear, for we were now right in the middle of the barrage and the danger was very great, but my courage came back when I remembered how easily He Who had raised the tempest saved His Apostles from it, and I never doubted He would do the same for us. Not a man was touched, though one had his rifle smashed to bits.

So if we want fortitude we need to work at it, yes; but we also - and maybe most importantly - need to go to God. Ultimately He gives us the strength we need to stand up to our fear.

A final thought: Fortitude doesn't only apply to the fear and danger we face in this world. It's needed as well in our Interior Life. Our Interior Life is "spiritual central" - where we work out our salvation. And, of course, the best way to work out our salvation is to become a saint. 

Becoming a saint requires a strong determination - an act of will. And, given the difficulties most of us face in our encounters with the world, the flesh, and the devil, becoming a saint will need a good dose of fortitude. But let's let Father Willie sum it all up for us. He says it best. Note especially his remark about why we are not holy.

"A want of will is the chief obstacle to our becoming saints. We are not holy because we do not really wish to become so. We would indeed gladly possess the virtues of the saints — their humility and patience, their love of suffering, their penance and zeal. But we are unwilling to embrace all that goes to make a saint and to enter on the narrow path which leads to sanctity. A strong will, a resolute will, is needed; a will which is not to be broken by difficulties or turned aside by trifling obstacles; a determination to be a saint and not to faint and falter because the way seems long and hard and narrow. A big heart, a courageous heart, is needed for sanctification, to fight our worst enemy — our own self-love."

So if it's fortitude you need and want, we've got Father Willie and the North American martyrs pulling for us. Who can ask for anything more!

Happy Sunday!