Fearlessness During Pentecost



Those of you who know me, know that I am a quiet but unabashed atheist. So you may be surprised to hear that my wife and I, as we occasionally do, attended Sunday Mass with our closest friends. When we go, it is typically because our goddaughter is singing a solo in the choir. She is turning 12 and has only been singing for a little over a year, but already has a resonant and very disciplined voice. But it was not just her singing that was remarkable this Pentecost, but her unwavering strength throughout her solo, as I shall relate.

The priest was a somewhat frail older man, pushing 80, who had recently undergone knee surgery. He began his sermon exhorting his congregation to remain fearless in the face of adversity, much as the disciples did after Jesus was said to have appeared to them, which gave them the strength to go out and evangelize. This seemed only appropriate given that it was Pentecost and that several terrorist acts had struck Europe in the last few weeks. But I didn't in the moment pay it any special attention.

That was, until the priest ended the sermon and moved to bless the Eucharist. When he went to pass the silver tray to an usher, his knee gave out and he fell, hard. The tray and Eucharist clattered loudly to the ground. Congregants rushed the dais to help him to his feet. It looked like it would be mayhem.

But instead, unsteady, the priest stood up with assistance, took a handkerchief from one of the ushers, straightened his cassock, and turned to face the congregation. He carefully wiped blood from a serious cut on his cheek and ear, but his first instinct was not to take a break to attend to his wounds, but to calm and reassure everyone. He then proceeded to finish Communion.

Throughout this, our goddaughter had been in the middle of her solo. Beautiful as always...and she didn't pause or miss a beat through the entire incident.

After the service, she came up to us in the pews and said, "wow, I thought there was a terrorist attack with all the noise behind me." When my wife asked how she remained so calm, she responded, "because they teach us to never get distracted or be afraid."

At that point it struck me that the gentle priest exhibited more true manliness and strength than the chest thumping "alpha male" who currently occupies the presidency. Rather than telling people to be fearful and vigilant, even when you have the world's most powerful military and nuclear arsenal at your disposal, this unarmed, frail priest did the opposite. Not only did he exhibit uncommon strength and fearlessness, nor did he just put his congregants' needs before his own, but he had instilled in our goddaughter that same strength and fearlessness. Of course, her parents had not a small hand in raising such a strong daughter, but this priest and his congregation exhibited the highest nobility and strength that America has to offer.

Ultimately the incident proved to me that remaining calm and fearless is the best weapon against the challenges and threats we are currently facing from terrorists and home grown racists. These monsters feed on fear, and no amount of wall building or bellicosity will keep us as safe as emulating that priest and our goddaughter.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Towards a Critical Religion Theory

Image
When judge Matthew Kacsmaryk, Evangelical Christian zealot and MAGA acolyte, rationalized his medication abortion opinion citing the dormant 1873 Comstock law earlier this year, he resurrected a vestige of Christian priggishness and bias in our jurisprudence long thought dead. By halting federal approval of mifepristone based on a willful misreading of the law, he defied not only decades of scientific consensus on the safety of the drug but also the long standing belief in the legality of and right to access medication abortion within our modern and  increasingly secular society. It's a move, like many of those on the religious right recently, designed to thwart the popular will and force an extremist Christian agenda. often through reviving anachronistic laws. The malleability of our existing legal system should not come as a surprise, for it rests upon ancient, at times sclerotic, foundations. It traces its lineage from the principles of Roman Law through the hallowed English Ma...
Read more

Reflecting on the American Narcissus

Image
What is most perplexing to me at this moment in American history, when we are at our wealthiest, most secure, and technologically advanced, is how we seem to be so completely riven with fear and anxiety when we come face to face with fellow citizens who hold a different world-view, that we are now willing to contemplate (and create ex nihilo ) utterly apocalyptic scenarios, even to the point of picking up arms and dehumanizing our neighbors as if they were wartime enemies. We faced down real Nazis, Communists, and bloody dictators within the lifetimes of living Americans with dignity and without fear, yet now panic at false shadows of the same. I never bought the media hyperbole that my grandparents belonged to the “Greatest Generation,” which had the benefit of strong leaders who were able to enforce compliance among the recalcitrant when it came to rationing, wartime belt-tightening, and military service, and who actively coerced them to adopt a sense of common purpose. But I do be...
Read more

Why Cold Assumptions are More Dangerous than Burning Crosses

Image
When I was around three years old, I remember my mother showing me a picture in one of our family photo albums, which we occasionally perused together while curled up on the couch. It was a new picture, one that I hadn't seen before. "Look," mom said, pointing to the chubby baby in a stroller wearing a blue onesie and a red baseball cap that had two triangular white patches on the front that made it look like my favorite car, a Jaguar XKE. He also had a pair of oversized adult sunglasses perched stylishly on his nose. One cool dude. "Who is this cute little guy?" mom asked. Tracing my tiny finger around the face in the picture I immediately lit up with recognition and proclaimed, with a but-of-course look on my face, "it's me!" My mother chuckled and shook her blonde head in amusement, "no, honey, that's not you, that's Harold." My little brow immediately furrowed. Completely perplexed, I continued to star...
Read more