This blog is two weeks overdue. For that reason, much of what I say may be irrelevant.
On February 11, 2013 Pope Benedict XVI announced his retirement. On February 13, 2013 The Church began its annual journey into lent. On February 17, 2013 Michael Jordan celebrated his 50th birthday. How appropriate. The three force us into a conversation with mortality.
When a medical patient is taken off life support, the body begins the journey towards death. As the body succumbs to the force of death, a fight ensues.
Labored breathing. Bodily twitches. Decreased heart rate. And then, after the body has made its point, silence.
The beauty and holiness of death comes in the silence that follows the fight.
I suspect that for many retiring feels much like being taken off life support. Two weeks ago, the media found focus on two internationally known retirees: Pope Benedict XVI and Michael Jordan. One subscribed to the holiness of silence – the other writhing for air.
ESPN celebrated Jordan’s 50th by producing a weeklong montage of his greatest triumphs. From courtside conquests to shoe sale successes ESPN paraded the ghosts of Jordan’s past proclaiming his achievement.
Jordan as hero. Jordan as victor. Jordan as champion. Jordan as savior.
Jordan is the manifestation of one of few to reach the pinnacle of their field. It is in this success that “a mirage flickers: immortality. They come to believe in it. Even after Jordan is gone, he knows people will remember him. Here lies the greatest basketball player of all time. That's his epitaph. When he walked off the court for the last time, he must have believed that nothing could ever diminish what he'd done." (Wright) The epitaph that identifies Jordan as the greatest now haunts him. The legend of Jordan that once announced his magnitude now speaks of his dwindling significance. At 50, Jordan aches to be who he once was. At 50, Jordan is left to assert his dominance in his vocabulary, his gross underestimation of current NBA athletes, his disapproval of enemies, lack of appreciation for those who once believed in him and, his continued attempts to return to the throne he once inhabited.
Jordan speaks to this in his now infamous retirement speech (replayed on ESPN two weeks ago):
Although I'm recognized with this tremendous honor of being in the basketball Hall of Fame - I don't look at this moment as a defining end to my relationship with the game of basketball. It's simply a continuation of something that I started a long time ago. One day you might look up and see me playing the game at 50. (laughs) Oh don't laugh. Never say never. Because limits, like fears are often just an illusion. Thank you very much. Looking forward to it.
Michael Jordan – once paraded as immortal – now proclaims the fleeting nature of personal fame and success.
In tandem with the reexamination of the world’s greatest basketball player, in the second week of February, the world was invited Pope Benedict XVI’s retirement
Pope Benedict XVI, at the age of 85, stunned the globe with his retirement announcement. Astonishingly, Pope Benedict XVI is the first pope to retire in nearly 600 years. Addressing his global audience, the pope eloquently noted the following:
After having repeatedly examined my conscience before God, I have come to the certainty that my strengths, due to an advanced age, are no longer suited to an adequate exercise of the Petrine ministry. I am well aware that this ministry, due to its essential spiritual nature, must be carried out not only with words and deeds, but no less with prayer and suffering. However, in today’s world, subject to so many rapid changes and shaken by questions of deep relevance for the life of faith, in order to govern the bark of Saint Peter and proclaim the Gospel, both strength of mind and body are necessary, strength which in the last few months, has deteriorated in me to the extent that I have had to recognize my incapacity to adequately fulfill the ministry entrusted to me.
Benedict as stunning. Benedict as shocking. Benedict as alarming.
It is said that Pope Benedict XVI viewed the papacy as his Calvary. The 85-year-old priest, an academic introvert by nature, understood his calling into this high role as an attempt to know Christ through suffering, an attempt to glorify the kingdom of God in spite of his failures and inadequacies, an attempt to grow in intimacy with the Lord through the weight and burden of his carried cross titled “papal leadership”. His leadership, questioned by many, met its beautiful conclusion in his announcement of resignation. In reaching the pinnacle of his role, Pope Benedict XVI discovered his mortality.
Pope Benedict XVI – once paraded as the leader of the Catholic Church – now reminds us “our ultimate hope is not in ourselves, our innocence, our sanity, but in something more than ourselves, in the reality that gives us meaning.” (Kreeft)
In retirement Benedict XVI identifies with Bonhoeffer in revealing that “when Christ calls a man he bids him come and die.” When we encounter God, He beckons us towards death: the silence of self. In our death, we magnify God’s beauty. When we welcome silence, we are made beautiful.
In juxtaposing the countless media reports on Jordan and Benedict XVI, we are reminded of the beauty that is silence. In Jordan we are shown a hero unable to reconcile himself to his creeping impermanence. In Benedict the XVI we are reminded of a hope much bigger than ourselves. Collectively, we are shown the tragedy of immortality and the loveliness of mortality. We are brought into a conversation with our own sense of legacy. May we be people that welcome Christ to bid us come and die. May we be people that, in recognition of our mortality, magnify the person and presence of Jesus Christ.
