Heroes

Racing giant Dale Earnhardt died recently. Before his body had cooled, the media were trumpeting the loss of “a great American hero.” I haven't seen one dissent from this characterization, nor do I expect to see one. The word "hero" has been shorn of its meaning.

Heroism is a concept that needs and deserves respect.

There can be no doubt that Earnhardt bravely courted great risks in pursuit of the prizes of his sport. The same could be said of many other sports figures from many places and times. But this does not make him, or them, heroes. To court risk for personal gain does not a hero make.

A hero is one who puts himself at risk for someone or something else.

We may further partition heroes into:

• Those who risk themselves in defense of specific others;

• Those who risk themselves in defense of a principle.

The former type I would call "petit heroes"; the latter type, "grand heroes."

If you remember Terry Waite, the Anglican priest who dared to negotiate, in person, with Middle Eastern terrorists for the release of the hostages they held, you know of one justly celebrated hero. If you've read of Father Damien of Molokai, he who ministered to the lepers, you know of another.

Reverend Waite, by his actions in defense of the individuals cruelly snatched from their lives by Islamic madmen, is a petit hero of note, a man to be held out to the young as a model of courage. There are few cases known to history of a comparable willingness to walk unarmed into a lion's den.

Father Damien, a man actuated by a love of his fellow men so great that it could only have descended from God Himself, is a grand hero for the ages. At the cost of everything any ordinary man might have had for himself, he devoted his life to caring for a people so utterly rejected by society that they had been confined to an island from which departure was impossible.

Without taking one jot away from Dale Earnhardt's obvious courage in pursuit of racing glory, how does his "heroism" compare to these men? How could anyone who grasped the nature of devotion and sacrifice use the same term for all of them? The humblest mother who flings herself at a predator, spending her life to buy time for her children to flee to safety, is greater than all the sports "heroes" that have ever lived.

History records the names of many heroes. Socrates. David of Israel. Cincinnatus. Horatius. Thomas More. Nathan Hale. Rodger Young. Florence Nightingale. The men who signed the Declaration of Independence. Of course there are others. How are we to cherish and uphold these lions of our race, how are we to convey their magnificence and generosity to our children, if their greatness of spirit is conflated with the self-seeking of men for whom risk is a coin to be staked on a mere game? In doing so, have we not destroyed the very idea of heroism: the enlargement of the self beyond pure self-interest? Have we not reduced all human action to the pursuit of gain?

How will the human race, whose proudest distinction is its members' ability to see beyond the risks and rewards of the moment to the enduring principles of freedom and justice that stand behind all of history, survive the loss of the hero?