Pastor’s Corner: Hero

February 21, 2018

There’s a part of me that wants to be a hero.

That was a crucial element of most of the games I played as a child, whether imagining myself as a soldier, or a policeman, or a firefighter, or a great baseball player. I treasured the times when it would be my turn (among the group my brother and I played with) to be the one who vanquished the Villain, rescued the Captive, or (in the baseball scenario) hit the Grand Slam Home Run that won the day.

That part of me that wants to be a hero lingers.

I tend to pull over at the scene of a car crash if the police and fire crews haven’t arrived yet. If I’m walking with someone unsteady on their feet, I will usually be close enough to slow if not prevent them from falling. In Connecticut, I trained as a high ropes challenge course facilitator, both to allow young people to safely experience the joys of facing their fears and to be ready to rescue them if they found themselves in difficulties.

That part of me that wants to be a hero lingers.

What I’ve found with time, however, is that opportunities for heroism are limited, but opportunities to be loving are not. I’ve never hit the home run or rescued the captive or vanquished the villain. Stopped by the side of the road, I’ve never pulled anyone from a burning car or even put pressure on an injury. I never rescued anyone on a ropes course.

What I have done is be present as a caring, compassionate, concerned human being. That’s not always enough, but it’s always something. The shaken driver waiting for the tow truck, the young person uncertain that they’ve passed their personal limits on height, the person in the hospital bed, the grieving family at the graveside: I’ve given them the love I had to give. It wasn’t always enough, but it was something.

I can’t always be a hero. I can always be loving. I can always share my aloha.

So can you.

With aloha,

Pastor Eric

The photo is of me as a high ropes facilitator during the summer of 2008 – not being a hero.