This past week was a week to say goodbye to heroes. One was very well known and made headlines across the world. The other was less well known, globally, but deeply mourned by all those who knew him. I found myself considering both of them and realized just how broad heroism can be defined, from the small simple acts that we can acknowledge as brave and heroic, to the depictions of heroes so grand they can scarcely be contained on massive theatre screens. In both cases, they can and do inspire us and point us to greater things.

Many saw the headlines that Chadwick Boseman, a rising Hollywood actor, died this past week at the age of 43. Although he has been in a number of movies, his most famous role was playing the lead in the Marvel Comic Book-based Black Panther film in 2018. His skill in taking on that persona, paired with the meaning the role and the story conveyed to so many millions of people, gave him an aura of hero that surpassed his this-world feats and accomplishments. He became a hero in a large sense, carrying the weight of expectation and hope that heroes often bear. 

If you haven’t seen Black Panther, it is a story about an advanced African nation, Wakanda, that has intentionally tried to hide itself and its advanced technology from the world. Their king takes on the persona of the Black Panther and rules over his people benevolently. The film tells the story of how King T’Challa begins to interact with the wider world, and how Wakanda begins to share their gifts with the world, so that everyone can benefit from what they know and have. There are many layers that can be peeled away from this story, but here in the real world, the movie was a watershed moment.  

Never before had young black children seen a black superhero given top billing in a Hollywood blockbuster. Most of us can’t really know what it’s like to go your whole life without seeing someone on the screen who looks like you; at least not in a lead heroic role, but until 2018 that was the case for millions. I’m not going to get lost in this rambling about the impact of such realities that go unnoticed by most white people, but influence generations of young minority kids, but let’s just summarize it to say it was and is a huge deal that Chadwick Boseman filled that role as well as he did. Pairing his portrayal as a fictional hero with the heroic role of the fictional society from which he comes, Black Panther has meant so much to so many. Boseman became a hero in a new way as a result.  

Chadwick Boseman is also being labeled heroic for the way he fought colon cancer at a young age – he’s less than a year older than I am. We are now learning just how hard he worked during treatment, including during filming for many movies, including Black Panther. His nickname on and off the screen was “King,” and frankly, the world is worse off without him in it. He may not have wanted it, but he had become more than a movie star with fleeting fame.  He represented something more. He still does.

I want to switch gears now, though. The other hero I said goodbye to this week was one of the most influential professors and mentors of my seminary days. The Rev. Richard Smith was an adjunct professor who taught Greek and Pastoral Theology electives. Like many, I took as many classes with “Richard” (as he asked to be called) as I could. Richard was one of those folks who radiated a close walk with Jesus and radiated love and care at all times. His gentle way made Greek bearable, and maybe even fun, and his pastoral teaching was insightful and valuable. I often recall things he said and taught.  

As I said on Facebook this week, when sharing his obituary, Richard would not want folks to make a fuss. All he ever wanted was for his life to point to Jesus. One example of that humility, he once described his frustration over a request to hang his portrait in the church he had been serving for forty years. In truth, it was the only church he ever served. He started offering Lutheran worship for a group that hoped to start a congregation just out of seminary. It was his intent to get them started and move on. Instead, he ended up founding a congregation in Tullahoma, TN that grew to thousands of members.  Upon his retirement, Richard didn’t want a portrait to be hung in the parish hall. Instead he suggested a painting of Jesus as a more fitting way to remember him.  

In that regard, I would say Richard was spot on. He didn’t ever want to be the center of attention or to be the focus. He knew his life and ministry was about something and someone greater than himself. Pastors, at their best, know they are only conduits. In fact, all heroes know that it’s not about them. The best heroes are aware that they represent something greater and bear that weight, hopefully with grace and humility. A true hero will never point to themselves, but to the greater reality they serve. In this regard, Richard and Chadwick, although not alike in so many ways, are not as disparate examples of heroism as it may seem on the surface.   

We need heroes that draw us to something greater, give us a sense of hope, and bring out our full humanity. In this regard, both of these men have succeeded. Their gifts were such that they will both consider to do so for generations to come, too. So to the King, and to Pastor Smith, I say thank you, and may you rest in peace as we strive to become heroes in our own right. 

Tom+

Father of all, we pray to you for all those whom we love but see no longer. Grant to them eternal rest. Let light perpetual shine upon them. May their souls and the souls of all the departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

Photo credits:  Chadwick Boseman, photo by Gage Skidmore under CC 2.0, via https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Chadwick_Boseman_(35411712094)_(cropped).jpg