I need a hero….

I first remember hearing the name of Nelson Mandela when I was a student in England in the early 80’s. At the time, it was a mark of the political correctness of a university to name something after the world’s most famous prisoner of conscience: you would find the Mandela room, the Mandela conference centre, the Mandela dorm, even the Mandela bar!

No doubt some of the people behind that outbreak of baptising did it with integrity: they had a good understanding of the politics of the ANC and the Nats, they knew what Mandela stood for, their interest was in the real people of South Africa and not just in the celebrities. But there were also many of them – of us, since I would count myself in that number – for whom Mandela was just another famous name, alongside Madonna, Maradonna and Marley.

We have seen something of that again in recent weeks. The desire – perhaps the need – of Blatter and Zuma to legitimise the World Cup by association with the great man, even if that meant him being paraded like a trophy into a cold Soccer City and while his family was still in mourning. The Ministry of Arts & Culture have funded an expensive – and inordinately long – staging of ‘The Rivonia Trials’ at the State Theatre this month. Because they want us to learn our history? Perhaps. But also because our current political leaders want to link their present performance (even if mediocre) with great performances of the past.

For those involved in genuine struggles for justice, whether 20 years ago or today, it can sometimes be galling that the people and the media follow the big names. Many people campaigned against landmines, but Princess Diana caught the cameras; many have been fighting for years against hunger in Africa, but Bono gets the credit; many are anxious about human rights in China but the Dalai Lama gets the kudos.

We see the same in our Church life. There must have been many men in Europe in the Middle Ages who were disgusted with the wealth around them and sought to lead a life of poverty – but we mostly remember the name of St Francis. Whilst many thousands have suffered silently from TB and other illnesses, it is St Thérèse whose relics are venerated. There were countless devoted women in the 20th century who worked with the poor and the sick, but it is Mother Teresa who is on the path to sainthood.

We need heroes. They capture our imagination. They remind us of what has been achieved. But I hope that they also show us what is possible for us. Archbishop Oscar Romero, one of my heroes, was often praised as a prophet. But he would remind his fans that we are all called, by our baptism, to be prophets. The possibility of our own greatness is beautifully captured in words of Marianne Williamson that are often associated with Mandela: “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.”

It is right that today we celebrate Mandela’s birthday. But let us not be so in awe of his life that we forget to be inspired to do likewise. As he said himself: “After 90 years of life it is time for new hands to lift the burdens. It is in your hands now.”