There are a great many warnings about the danger of meeting one’s heroes. So many, in fact, that I suspect I could fill this entire column with them without ever getting to the point I wish to make. But instead of ruminating on the time a friend of mine was brushed aside by Joe Buck in an elevator, or the immense amount of research I did to make sure Paul Simon was still worth seeing before going to his farewell tour, I’ll get right down to a lesson learned from a great man I had the pleasure of knowing at least briefly.

When I started at Christendom College almost fifteen years ago, the athletic director was a great man named Tom Vander Woude. He coached basketball and soccer in addition to his administrative duties, and all of this was in addition to his responsibilities as a husband, father, and active member of his parish. After he had left Christendom, his son Josie fell into a septic system on their property, and Tom dove in after him and managed to hold him up long enough for help to show up. He saved his son, but ultimately gave his own life in the process. His act of heroism became a nationally known piece of news and is still remembered over
ten years later.
 
One of his sons is a priest, and so his funeral was celebrated by the local bishop. Estimates say there were about two thousand on hand to celebrate a life well-lived. It was noted at his funeral that a few days after he had passed away, the sanctuary candle at his parish burned out and no one replaced it. It turns out that he had been doing that for so long that no one else even thought to do it. I often think about that detail because it tells us almost as much about his life as his defining act of heroism ultimately does. We are conditioned by overdramatic movies and television to think that people just erupt into action and greatness when the situation calls for it. But the difficult truth is that people who do major heroic things are almost always the ones who have been dying to themselves day in and day out for years.

The thousands upon thousands of minor acts of sacrifice done by Tom Vander Woude throughout the years built up a virtuous man who could do nothing else but the right thing when that terrible moment came. A lifetime of self-denial and taking up the cross shaped the heart of St. Maximillian Kolbe after the Sacred Heart of Our Savior, and so when he had the chance to offer his own life in exchange for another’s, he did not hesitate.
 
I say all this for two reasons. First, we should thank God for all the opportunities we have to suffer and sacrifice for others. If we take up these minor crosses and participate in His Passion, then we will also share in its reward. I pray that none of us misses a chance to sacrifice and become more like Christ. Second, I would like to make a point of thanking the people who already strive to live like this. There are so many things that happen in our parishes only because of the dedicated volunteers who always show up but are rarely thanked or noticed. If you start seeing recognition of them in the bulletin, that’s why. I want us to see those who prioritize mission over self, humble fidelity to Church teaching, and responsible follow through, and to imitate their witness.
 
Not everyone will have the chance to offer their life for that of another. But every last one of us, as Catholic followers of Jesus Christ, have the chance to be formed after His own Heart. If we strive to die to ourselves each day, then God will build up in us this spirit of sacrifice; all for the salvation of souls and the greater glory of God.
 
Prayers always,
Fr. McC