The Heroic Summons
I have a confession:
I'm really not that wild about hero movies. I've watched a couple of them, and they just don't really appeal to me. I don't get excited when Marvel announces a new movie is coming out, and I don't really know who belongs to Marvel and who belongs to DC Comics. I feel my insides groan a little bit when I'm on a planning team and we're looking for a theme and someone inevitably suggests "Superheroes." I guess that I generally think the whole idea of commercial heroism is getting old: Be courageous. Transcend the cultural norms. Be extraordinary.
I was recently listening to a part of an interview with Bishop Robert Barron and Jordan Peterson. It was just a snippet of a much longer interview, but one of the questions really caught my attention. Bishop Barron asked Jordan Peterson what he thinks is missing in the Catholic Church. Without hesitation, Jordan Peterson said, "the heroic summons."
That response really resonated with me, and I would argue that the Church isn't the only institution falling short of heroic virtue. It's the whole culture: The temptation to extend an expensive vacation for the sake of self-care trumps the sacrifice of putting in a little more work to make someone else's life easier; the refusal to be make sacrifices when you have to fight for what's morally right rather than settling for what feels good in the moment. The urge to take the path of least resistance is almost always favored than taking a leap of faith and travelling over rocks, ridges, and roads that may lead to danger or discomfort. Going deeper, it is alarming to see how easily people are persuaded by popular opinion, the desire to be cool or the fear of being rejected.
In the end, it doesn't even matter. Hundreds or maybe even dozens of years after we die and our cold bodies are placed into the ground, how many people will remember our name? How many people will still think of the things we did when we were still walking this green earth? Unfortunately, probably not many. Our Twitter profiles may live on longer than we do, and we will become like a wisp of smoke - here one moment and gone the next.
Unless we respond to the heroic summons.
What does that even mean? I would argue that it's everything that most popular and powerful people don't do. And yet we've seen it all throughout history. It's people like Martin Luther King, Jr. speaking up for civil rights. It's Mother Teresa helping the poorest of the poor. It's Malala Yousafzai boldly defying terrorists and advocating education for girls. It's Pope John Paul II battling evil and forgiving the man who tries to assassinate him. It's a young teenage boy by the name of Kendrick Castillo who bravely gave his life for a friend. It's a desire for the greater good, which often means sacrificing one's own comfort, perhaps even up to death. At the end of the day, it's a bold, authentic love that puts someone else's good before your own. How often do we see that on our screens and in the people who we admire the most? Sure, a favorite athlete might give millions to his favorite charity. But would he run into a burning building to safe someone? Sure, a famous singer with chart topping singles may stand up and talk about advocating a cause. But would she be willing to die for that same cause? These acts may be admirable, but they are not heroic.
Last week I came to the realization that while it may seem lacking, heroism is still present. There have been times when I sat right across from it and didn't recognize it because it was so quiet. I have spoken often on this blog about a man who I refer to as my spiritual director. I don't think I've ever named him, but I cannot stress enough how much Fr. Auve means to me and how much he has helped me to grow and mature into the person who I am today. He has spent countless hours praying with me, sharing stories about his own faith life with me, laughing with me, counseling me, offering me a tissue when all I could do was cry.
About a week ago, Fr. Auve hit his head in a bad fall that landed him in the hospital, and led to emergency surgery. I was terrified, worried, and barely able to function until I heard the news that he was going to be okay. Praise God! In the middle of the tears and chaos, I went to visit his office staff. His receptionist made a comment that even when he's having a rough day or if he has any pain, he never complains. As I contemplated all of the times that I've spent across from him in his office, I knew she was right. I don't think I've ever heard him talk about his own struggles or bad days. He was always there to take care of me and to give his attention wholeheartedly to me. From talking to other people in recent days, I know I am not the only one who he cares for this way. The way he lives his life is nothing short of heroic.
I once asked him what it was that made him want to be a priest. He just smiled and talked about a holy priest he knew when he was a kid - and he wanted to be just like him. I look at the way Fr. Auve lives his life, and I echo that same sentiment. I want to be like him - holy and heroic.
In saying that, I know that my life won't look like what modern society will tell me it needs to look like in order to be praised or successful. In fact, it will probably look a lot like the opposite. It may look like glamour-less days with no makeup. It may look like stretching my dollars instead of spending it on the latest fashion or even the best tasting meals. It may look like turning away from a typical life with a stable job and towards a path that looks uncertain and even scary. But I think that's also what differentiates a hero from just an ordinary joe. Heroes are willing to respond to a call that's deeper than what this world approves, a voice that speaks to a mission that we may fall short of but will never regret undertaking. I can't think of anything more fulfilling.
