Who Are Your Spiritual Heroes?

Today we're introducing a new monthly article series from Rolling Ridge. We invite you to take a few minutes to read and reflect with us through this timely meditation, written by Associate Director Michael Reed.

‍

Who are your spiritual heroes?

I’d like to introduce a new article series from Rolling Ridge. On the first Sunday of each month, we’ll be asking members of our community to share how their spiritual lives were touched and transformed by the great heroes of faith—saints and luminaries ranging from St. Francis of Assisi to Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Julian of Norwich to Mary Oliver.

But why heroes? What do we mean by spiritual heroes, and why would we take time each month to reflect on their lives? What does their past have to do with our present?

I’ve been thinking a lot about that, as part of my work as Associate Director at Rolling Ridge. There are at least three good reasons why we need spiritual heroes, now more than ever.

The first is that we live in a time consumed by enemies. It’s all we think about, all we talk about. The nightmare screens we carry in our pockets glow and vibrate with the outrageous, unprecedented deeds of our enemies. The 24-hour news cycle depends upon it. Like many of you, I’ve deleted most of the media apps on my phone and limited my own access to the news—not because I am not deeply concerned, but simply because I find it impossible to bounce my children on my knee, or turn my heart to prayer, when I am in a constant state of anger and dread. Even without push notifications and the 6:00 news, I find to my shame that I am perfectly capable of filling my mind with villains, and the actual or imagined slights done to me by those in my personal circle.

Here’s what I know to be true: you will never become a more moral person by obsessing over the sins of your enemies. Inner peace and social justice are never achieved only by knowing what is wrong. You must know what is right. By necessity, we require a positive moral vision of what a good and beautiful life looks like. And we need it not in abstract, ethical postulations, but fleshed out, as it were, in the lives of real human beings—people whose examples we can follow.

I have young children, and I am constantly amazed at how much of their growing up is really just imitation. They play by copying my wife and me. They learn to talk by mimicking our words and sounds. The more I think about it, the more I realize that we never outgrow that mimetic instinct. We become like the people we surround ourselves with. We are commanded to do so. St. Paul has either the gall or the wisdom to say to the early Christians: “Imitate me as I imitate Christ.” If we emulate the people who loom largest in our moral imaginations, how much better is it to fill our hearts with heroes rather than villains?

Here’s what I know to be true: you will never become a more moral person by obsessing over the sins of your enemies.

‍

Second, we need spiritual heroes to show us the far horizons of what is possible. I think of saints and spiritual heroes not as people who live perfectly, but as people who live fully alive. If each of us is meant to be the light of the world, then perhaps our spiritual heroes are those people who radiate the light and love of God a little farther—they hold it up a little higher—so that others might see the path more clearly, or even know there was a path at all.

I’m told there’s something called the Roger Bannister Effect. For years, it had been assumed that a human being simply could not run a four-minute mile. Then Bannister did the impossible in 1954, running a mile in 3 minutes 59 seconds. But Bannister’s triumph wasn’t just that he overcame a physical barrier, but a psychological one. Once he provided it could be done, others quickly followed. Someone else broke the four-minute barrier just 46 days later. And in the intervening decades, thousands more have followed suit.

Spiritual heroes make possible and desirable the things we would never have conceived without them. It is a practical certainty that every sensible person thought that loving one’s enemies was absurd—until Jesus of Nazareth went ahead and did it. In doing so, he forever changed the world. St. Francis scandalized medieval ideas of wealth and dignity with his embrace of holy poverty and divine simplicity. St. John of the Cross transformed the crisis of God’s absence into an opportunity for grace. The Wesley brothers insisted that religion should be felt in the heart, not simply sequestered in the mind or the four walls of a church. Teilhard de Chardin reconciled evolutionary science with the great workings of the Creator. Oscar Romero was a voice for the poor and oppressed, knowingly at the cost of his own life. Each one lifted up the light—and seeing it, millions have followed in their footsteps.

It is a practical certainty that every sensible person thought that loving one’s enemies was absurd—until Jesus of Nazareth went ahead and did it.

‍

‍Finally, it seems to me that we need spiritual heroes not only to show the way forward, but to find our traveling companions. This is no small thing, but one of the greatest gifts our heroes give us: one another. If you’ve read the works of Dorothy Day, I know I’m going to like you. If you were shattered by the death of Rachel Held Evans; if you receive daily email meditations from Richard Rohr; if you hang out in places where they talk about lectio and the Enneagram, then I know that we’re going to be friends. Heroes give us common touchpoints for community. Whole schools and religious traditions grow up within the circle of light that they cast. Whatever else that is, it’s a sure way to find your people.

Finding your people is important, especially right now. We need one another. Unless you’re particularly excited about our ascendant American demagogy, delighting as it does in the chaotic destruction of its enemies, real or perceived, you’re probably in need of a little comfort—a little human reassurance. It helps to know that the great saints of old have lived through such times, and far worse. It helps to know that there are ordinary saints all around us who haven’t lost their grip on truth, beauty, and goodness. It may be a mad world, but there are still lights in the darkness. And as much as I can follow their example, one of those lights might be my own.

That’s why we need heroes: because our souls are oversaturated with villains; because they show that the inconceivable is possible; and because they help us find each other, creating the kind of divine community that has the power to overcome all the petty evils of this age.

Starting in two weeks, we’ll begin sharing stories of our spiritual heroes and how they change us. We’ll begin with Steve Garnaas-Holmes, poet and friend of the Ridge, who will start us off with (who else?) Jesus the Christ. Our goal is to introduce someone new each month in 2025.

So—who are your spiritual heroes? Take some time to consider who shines brightest for you, and how they have changed your life and spiritual practice.

Keep looking for the light, and thanks for joining us, as we create contemplative community together.

All the best,
Michael Reed