Fruit of the Spirit: Strength That Makes Room For Grace

Recently, I was working on a funeral service for a longtime member of my church, and I realized that one word kept coming up in my notes from family descriptions of him: "gentle." 

This man was described in many ways: "faithful," "loving," "humorous," and more.  But it was his gentleness that seemed to be one of the many qualities he possessed that made an impact on family and friends.  

I thought about this for a while as I was composing what I was going to say in the sermon at his memorial.  I had to admit that if someone were writing a eulogy for me, "gentleness" would probably not be an adjective used to describe me. 

I thought back and guessed that I may have had gentle moments in my life, when I acted tenderly, softly, and carefully toward those I  loved.  But if my funeral were held soon (God forbid), I was almost certainly never going to be remembered as being a gentle person. 

I think I'd like to change that as much as I can, at least enough where gentleness might at least make an appearance in my future eulogy.  Maybe you might feel the same way.  

The problem most of us face is that gentleness is often misunderstood as weakness, passivity, or a lack of conviction.  Which is why many of us who have a more, shall we say, outward-facing personality, or who value being strong and determined, might dismiss it.  

In a world that rewards volume, speed, and force, gentleness can feel impractical or even ineffective. Yet Scripture consistently presents gentleness as a sign of deep spiritual strength. Gentleness is not the absence of power; it is power shaped and restrained by love.

Jesus names gentleness as central to his own character: “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart” (Matthew 11:29). This is striking when we consider who Jesus is. He confronts injustice, challenges hypocrisy, and speaks truth boldly—yet he does so without crushing those who are already burdened. His gentleness creates space for healing rather than fear.

The apostle Paul echoes this vision when he urges believers to restore one another “in a spirit of gentleness” (Galatians 6:1). Gentleness is not avoidance of truth; it is truth offered in a way that can be received. It listens before reacting. It refuses to dominate or humiliate. Gentleness understands that transformation happens through grace, not coercion.

Gentleness grows in us as we become less driven by ego and more grounded in God’s love. When we are secure in who we are before God, we no longer need to prove ourselves, win every argument, or assert control. Gentleness flows from confidence rooted in grace rather than fear.

This fruit also reshapes how we treat ourselves. Many of us extend far more compassion to others than we do inwardly. Gentleness invites us to release harsh self-judgment and trust that God is patient with our growth. “A bruised reed he will not break,” Isaiah reminds us (Isaiah 42:3). God’s gentleness toward us becomes the pattern for how we live with ourselves and others.

In a culture shaped by outrage and division, gentleness becomes a quiet but radical witness. It reminds us that love does not need to shout to be strong. Gentleness builds bridges, opens hearts, and reflects the steady, healing presence of God.

Prayer
Gentle Savior, soften our hearts. Teach us to embody strength shaped by compassion, humility, and grace. Help us create space for healing in ourselves and others. Amen.

Reflection Questions

1. Where do you confuse gentleness with weakness?

2. How has gentleness shaped a meaningful relationship in your life?

3. What might it look like to practice gentleness—with others or yourself—this week?