Fear shows up in every human life. It whispers that the problem is too big, the risk is too high, or someone else should step in. But history—especially the history of the saints—tells a different story. Again and again, ordinary people faced fear and chose courage because someone else needed help.
Legendary football coach Lou Holtz once said:
“Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you respond.”
That insight doesn’t just apply to sports or success. It perfectly describes the lives of many saints. They could not control what happened to them—but they chose how they would respond.
Take Saint Maximilian Kolbe. While imprisoned by the Nazis at Auschwitz Concentration Camp during World War II, Kolbe witnessed guards select ten prisoners to die after an escape attempt. One man cried out for his wife and children. In a moment that stunned the entire camp, Kolbe stepped forward and volunteered to take the man’s place. The situation was horrifying—but Kolbe chose how he would respond: with sacrificial love.
Fear also surrounded the work of Saint Damien of Molokai. In the 1800s, people suffering from Leprosy were sent to an isolated colony on Molokai. The disease terrified people, and most clergy avoided the assignment. Damien volunteered. He lived among the patients, bandaged wounds, built homes, and restored dignity to people society had abandoned. Eventually he contracted the disease himself—but not before transforming a place of despair into a community of hope.
Then there is Saint Teresa of Calcutta, known around the world as Mother Teresa. Walking the crowded streets of Kolkata, she encountered people dying alone in gutters—people most of society preferred not to see. Instead of turning away, she picked them up, cared for them, and created homes where the poorest of the poor could experience dignity and love in their final days.
Some saints faced danger with creativity and humor. Saint John Bosco worked with poor and troubled boys in Turin during the 1800s. The streets were filled with gangs, crime, and exploitation. Bosco often faced threats from those who didn’t appreciate his influence. His response? He opened schools, taught trades, organized games, and even performed magic tricks to keep boys engaged and off the streets.
Missionary courage also stands out in the life of Saint Francis Xavier. Traveling thousands of miles across oceans, he brought the Gospel to people in India and Japan during the Age of Exploration. The journeys were dangerous, the languages unfamiliar, and the cultures new—but Xavier believed the people he encountered were worth every risk.
Saint Katharine Drexel, an American heiress, could have lived a life of enormous comfort and privilege. Instead, she used her vast fortune to serve marginalized communities in the United States, particularly Native Americans and African Americans. During a time of deep racial prejudice, she founded schools and missions across the country, including Xavier University of Louisiana, the only historically Black Catholic university in the United States. She faced criticism and threats—but she responded with bold generosity.
Another striking example is Saint Oscar Romero, the archbishop of San Salvador. In the late 1970s, as violence and injustice grew during Salvadoran Civil War, Romero spoke out to defend the poor and the oppressed. He knew his words made him a target. Still, he continued preaching courageously, urging soldiers to refuse unjust orders and calling the nation to conscience. In 1980, he was assassinated while celebrating Mass—but his witness continues to inspire millions.
Even young saints showed extraordinary courage. Saint Maria Goretti, a young Italian girl, forgave the man who attacked her while she was dying. Years later, that same man repented and attended her canonization—proof that mercy can change even the hardest hearts.
What these stories reveal is something both simple and challenging. The saints didn’t control the circumstances around them. They faced disease, violence, injustice, and poverty. But like Lou Holtz’s famous insight reminds us, they controlled how they responded.
And they responded with courage.
Most of us won’t face the dramatic situations these saints did. But every day presents smaller moments where fear tries to hold us back: helping a struggling neighbor, defending someone who is being mistreated, volunteering when no one else steps forward.
The saints show us that courage rarely begins with heroic plans. It begins with a simple decision to respond with love.
Because in the end, the measure of a life isn’t what happens to us.
It’s how we choose to respond.
