By Joe Pisani
Throughout my life I’ve had a lot of “idols,” from Bob Dylan to Henry David Thoreau in my early years, and then Fyodor Dostoevsky and Charles Dickens, when my ambition was to become a literary giant … or maybe just a literary pygmy who made the bestseller list once in a while.
Everyone looks up to someone. Consider that the Kardashians have a billion followers on social media, who try to model their lives after them. And while celebrity worship is a way of life in America, I confess to having only one in my pantheon — actor Denzel Washington, who’s not afraid to publicly express his strong faith in God and seems to be the model of a good man. And as Flannery O’Connor once said, “A good man is hard to find.”
In later years, I was inspired by the Trappist monk Thomas Merton, although I never considered the monastic life. And also Servant of God Dorothy Day, whom I met on the Bowery at the Catholic Worker in New York City. She was a true “servant.” One day when I was there, she was making peanut butter sandwiches for the homeless.
Who doesn’t admire the selfless commitment to Christ that St. Teresa of Calcutta had in serving the poorest of the poor? My wife Sandy and my daughter Julie spent several weeks working with the Missionaries of Charity in Calcutta at the home for the sick and the dying, and it was a life-changing experience.
The older I get, the more I find inspiration in ordinary, unheralded people, like the priest in his mid-80s, who was responsible for getting my father into Alcoholics Anonymous and turning his life around. My father drank alcoholically until he was 50, but lived his last 25 years sober. That priest “12 Stepped” him without any fanfare or praise. Over the years, I’ve met many priests who are true servants, and I thank God for them every day.
Before he got sober, my father would sit in his Barcalounger with a glass of Seagram’s 7 in one hand and a 16-ounce can of Budweiser in the other. After he got into recovery, he would have his prayer book in one hand and his holy cards in the other, along with a list of people he prayed for who were still suffering alcoholics.
As I get the older, the people I consider powers of example are older, and sometimes I don’t even know their names. Let me tell you a story.
On a frigid January morning last winter, when the streets were covered with ice, I ventured out to daily Mass against my better judgement. When I got to church, I expected it to be empty. It wasn’t.
One fellow, 93, came in with a sprightly gait and went to his favorite pew, and I have a hunch it’s the Eucharist that keeps him young. Then, the van from the local assisted living facility arrived, and five elderly people made their way into the church — one in a wheelchair, another with a walker, and a few hobbling along, but hobbling nonetheless, to their pew in the front. I thought it curious that schools had cancelled, but these seniors weren’t deterred. Most of them were in their 80s and 90s.
It’s like that every day when I look out at the pews and see a group of people with gray hair, thinning hair, no hair. Some use canes or walkers, others struggle to kneel and stand. They’re grandparents, great-grandparents, widows, widowers and retirees — a regular menagerie of old people who have become powers of example for me.
They’re there because the Eucharist sustains them, and they keep coming back. They realize the Person who resides in the tabernacle is their hope in a troubled world.
One woman, 96, whose joints bother her, can’t stand for the entire Gospel although she doesn’t seem to have a problem kneeling. She’s there every morning and then goes about her tasks at the Senior Center. Despite the challenges of old age, her joy is infectious.
Another woman, who is 94, walks to Mass every day and politely declines my occasional offers to drive her home because she says she likes to walk.
I’m convinced these people are holding the world together with their prayers. Many of them stay to pray the rosary and for Eucharistic adoration.
For me, their example is a light in the darkness, and it should be for everyone. As they approach the end of life, they’re still drawing closer to Christ. Instead of turning away, they’re turning to him.
These are the people who should be role models for the younger generations, not celebrities who populate social media with their self-exaltation. All of us would do well to learn a thing or two … from our elders.