Heroes of the Faith

My family are currently working their way through the Marvel movies, in “the order they’re meant to be watched”.  One movie at a time, every other night.  Last night, I had a College Board meeting, so, my job – to keep pace with the current family COVID-inspired activity – is to make sure I am up to date by Thursday evening, when we sit down to the next movie. 

But my favourite hero, from the comics-inspired hero-verse is not an Avenger, or any other superhero from the sequence of movies I just mentioned.  I love “The Incredibles” – a whole family of superheroes.  If it is my turn to choose the super-hero movie, it’s a toss-up between “The Incredibles” and “The Incredibles 2”.  My favourite scene is when Jack-Jack’s superpowers are first seen by Mr Incredible.  It’s in the second movie, for those who’d like to check it out. 

One of the overarching themes of the two movies is how even superheroes can discover that they are capable of doing things they did not dream they would be capable of.  If you know these two movies, you will know the way that the children, in particular, grew in their appreciation of what a heroic act looked like, in their own unique way. 

A heroic act – what is that, actually?  For me, it’s how people respond to difficult, overwhelming circumstances with acts of love, care and compassion – works that save a situation from become wretched; for me, heroes do these acts in humility, and with a merciful heart, often surprising themselves with what they are capable of – indeed, what they’ve been able to do. 

 ‘And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.’ 

Micah 6:8 

One of my heroes of our Christian faith is a lady named Di.  I worked with her in the 1990s.  She was the canteen manager at the school I worked at.  For Di, life had been wretched.  Her eldest died in her arms when he was 23, of a heart attack – no explanation ever, as to why it happened.  She developed cancer soon after, and the recovery meant all sorts of side-effects that left her in incredible pain and discomfort. (At this point, I’ll stop talking about her tough childhood etc … it brought you to tears when you heard of it).

And yet, when you walked around the corner and were in sight of the canteen, she would greet you with love – light “shone” out of Di.  It was love that came from a deep, abiding faith in Christ, as Saviour.  She would tell students, she would tell colleagues, she would tell parents of the school, that she needed nothing more than to know Jesus as Lord and Saviour.  And, then she’d tell you how much worse others had it than she had.  And, she poured out her love in words, actions, prayer; she followed up students who left that school for years and years – they wanted to let her know their good news, their struggles – she was another Mum to them, in many cases.

Times are tough; live has been wretched for some.  Heroic acts in these pandemic times are all around us – acts I’d hope we can, as a community, acknowledge to one another.  Workers on the front line of health care; workers who have been displaced, and have had to make do at home, remote from colleagues; children who have fronted up to school each day, especially when they haven’t wanted to; students who have reached out to friends who are struggling; meals prepared for those who need it, and dropped anonymously on the doorstep; someone stopping to pray with another who is really struggling.

Why are these heroic acts?  If they are acts that are beyond what you thought you were capable of; if they are applying your special gifts into difficult and wretched situations – these are heroic.  People of faith, making a difference.  Humbly serving, pointing to our maker; to our Saviour.  Through their words, actions, and prayer.  If this is you, I consider you my hero.  Thanks.  Our community is doing better, because of how you’ve trusted God to use you in mighty ways.