The election of
Pope John XXIII was
challenged because he was one miracle short of sainthood. You
see, according to protocol, after the candidate's demise, there must be at
least two miracles attributed to the evocation of his name. But Pope John XXIII only had one. As for Pope
John Paul II, he was accused of turning a blind eye to the Catholic priest sex
scandals. The controversy shadowed his papal authority and leadership for years
and
even persisted after his death. However, it did not stop Pope Francis from proceeding with the ceremony. This led me to the question, "Who is a saint?" or "Who
qualifies as one?"
My thoughts drifted to the good
Samaritan story in the Bible. This parable is familiar to us. The victim of a
robbery was left for dead when a Priest and a Levite passed him by without
helping. Then came the hero of the story, an outcast, a Samaritan. He tended to
his wounds, pouring oil and wine on it, put him on his
donkey, and paid for his
recuperation in an Inn. Now, is that the definition of a saint? Well, the
spirit of it clearly is.
Applying this parable to my life, I
can't say that I have been a good Samaritan all the time. Sometimes, I felt like the Priest or the Levite as I conveniently passed a chance to do good
because I was too busy or did not want to bring attention to myself. At other
times, I played the part of the good Samaritan because people I know were
watching. I guess all of us desire to be
known as the good Samaritan to our friends
and not the hypocritical Priest or Levite.
But let's add a twist to the parable
here. What if the Levite or the Priest were rushing to a burning synagogue
nearby to save two dozens children trapped inside and they therefore had no
time to stop for the victim? Does it make them less of a saint? Or what if they came to
the victim's aid because members of their temple were watching, what can we say
about their heart then? Consider another twist. What if the Priest or the
Levite felt guilty after
walking away and later promised themselves that they would
help the next time round, would that qualify them as saints by genuine
repentance?
My point? I think at most times, we
are all three rolled into one, that is, Samaritan, Priest and Levite. Being a
Samaritan at all times is a tall order for us and not being one when the
opportunity avails itself does not mean that we will never become one in the
near future. It is really a lifetime trial of net results (between Samaritan
and Priest/Levite) that ultimately
count.
When the late Nelson Mandela was praised
for being saint-like, he quickly dismissed it and said that he was not a saint.
Unless a saint means a sinner who keeps on trying, then he is not a saint, so
said the great leader. This is another way of looking at it. Here is a man who
knows himself. He knows the limits of his abilities. He knows the weakness of
human nature. He has no illusions about it. Fame, power and wealth are not the
real thing.
They are like beauty that fades, metal that rusts, and stocks that
lose value.
The point about Mandela's admission
is that saints do exist and if anything, he comes closest to one. Hands down.
But it is not in the embodiment of perfection that makes up sainthood. I think
the revolutionary leader had another thing in mind. Sainthood to him is not
about an unblemished life. It is not about keeping up with a surrealistic image that
the North Korean leaders, for example,
would desperately want their desolated people to
believe in. That false image is their leader's mythical birth, their larger-than-life persona
and their deity-like leadership. All of which, we all know are nothing but the vain mirages of power.
I believe Mandela's life shows that
if you seek it, you will surely find saints living among you. But your search
in high and prominent places will mostly result in disappointment. You see, the
life of a saint is largely hidden from the public glare. It is
seldom
televised, entombed in awards or written about in books. Of course, we
know about great humanitarians like Gandhi, Lincoln and King because of the
publicity they have received in all the multi-media forms, especially
posthumously.
But these are but merely incidental
to their struggles in life. In other words, what we see or know about are the
fruits of their labor and not so much their decades-long struggles before they were even known. As such, their
sweat, agony and perseverance were largely
hidden from the limelight. My point is
that many saints may never have the same publicity as great leaders like Gandhi
and Mother Teresa and they may very well leave this world largely unknown.
So if there is a GPS system to
navigate you around the terrains to identify saints living among us,
it would
be in the unlikeliest of places. So, if you are looking for a saint, try these
places for size:-
1) In a home, where a mother wakes up
early in the morning to prepare breakfast for her children without fail, and goes
about her day caring for them in the most routine and mundane way, and keeping
up the spirits even in the toughest of times, in sickness and in health, in
disappointments and in personal pain, and in all her humanity, consistently
following through till her very last
breath. That's a saint in my book.
2) On one's knees, where a man proposes
to another, and keeps his promises to her, never failing to love her in
the worst of times, even when there is every worldly reason to leave her for
another, and he gives himself selflessly to her notwithstanding his flaws and
shortcomings, and in all this, when he grows old with her, he progressively discovers that he loves her even more deeply than the first time he proposed to
her. Now that's a
saint for me.
3) Beside a hospital bed, when a son
is holding his father's hands, with tears in his eyes, he whispers these words
to him, "I am sorry dad. I am so sorry," and makes a promise to his
dying father that he is back for good, and thereafter, in repentance and humility, he
lives his life the best way he knows how to honor the memory of his father.
That's another saint for the record.
4) At a nondescript place, where
a
lady confronts the man who had taken her youth away from her, subjected her to
pain, disappointments and even shame over the years, and with a quiet resolve
in her heart, and a spirit of forgiveness, she hugs the man who himself is
welling up with tears, and says in a resolute voice, "I forgive you."
That's a saint, anytime, anywhere.
5) And finally, to a place where a man, who has every
reason to give up on life, and who has lost everything he once held
dear,
clinging on only to the breath that he has under his nose, he slowly,
painstakingly, and with dogged determination, picks himself up from the rubble
of life and mend himself up, one broken piece at a time, regardless of how long
it takes, and now lives a normal life, fully contented, and is uplifted by the
littlest things in life, like a smile, a hug, a pat on the back, and a simple
word of encouragement. Now that’s a saint for me, for all time. Cheerz
No comments:
Post a Comment