MAD POPE CRUSH

I came across this article in The Huffington Post soon after Easter and have wanted to share it ever since.  It was written by the father of Dominic Gondreau, who is the boy in the photo to the right.  Dominic has cerebral palsy, and when the Pope saw him in the crowd as he made his way to deliver his Easter address, he immediately stopped to give Dominic an incredibly tender and heartfelt embrace.  I watched the video at my office and immediately started crying, then sent it to my closest colleagues, who also shed a tear or two.  It was a pretty hilarious way to start a random Tuesday in April, but the lesson I took from observing the power of this image and the wise words of Dominic's father about the encounter have lasted me all month.    It inspired me on so many levels:  as a parent, as a human, and definitely as someone who thinks a lot about faith but often struggles with the role of the modern church. 

To be honest, I've never really given much thought or care to the role of the Pope, but I am so damn inspired and excited by Pope Francis that it's kind of weird.  I actually am starting to "get" what all the fuss is about, and why people would trek thousands of miles to see this man.  Here's a clip of his encounter with Dominic Gondreau, as well as a brief interview with his family. The Pope's interaction comes across so honest and pure in this way that someone can't fake or politician their way through.  Seriously, I love this man:

The teachable moment for me came in the father's reflection about his own growth and ability to learn about the absolute nature of love through his experience of parenting Dominic, and how Pope Francis' small gesture of a hug could serve as a reminder to all of us that spiritual wisdom truly "confounds the wisdom of the world."  This felt very applicable to my parenting life, and I know all parents, regardless of whether their children have special needs, often feel like their well has run dry and the work and sacrifice required of them is beyond what feels humanly possible.  If you don't have time to read the entire article, here's an excerpt: 

It is often difficult to try to express to people who do not have special needs children what kind of untold sacrifices are demanded of us each and every day. And as for Dominic, he has already shared in Christ's Cross more than I have throughout my entire life multiplied a thousand times over. What is the purpose in all this, I ask? Furthermore, I often tend to see my relationship with Dominic in a one-sided manner. Yes, he suffers more than me, but it's constantly ME who must help HIM. Which is how our culture often looks upon the disabled: as weak, needy individuals who depend so much upon others, and who contribute little, if anything, to those around them.

Pope Francis' embrace of my son yesterday turns this logic completely on its head and, in its own small yet powerful way, shows once again how the wisdom of the Cross confounds human wisdom. Why is the whole world so moved by images of this embrace? A woman in the Square, moved to tears by the embrace, perhaps answered it best when she said to my wife afterward, "You know, your son is here to show people how to love." To show people how to love. This remark hit my wife as a gentle heaven-sent confirmation of what she has long suspected: that Dominic's special vocation in the world is to move people to love, to show people how to love. We human beings are made to love, and we depend upon examples to show us how to do this....

And so the disabled become our models and our inspiration. Yes, I give much to my son, Dominic. But he gives me more, WAY more. I help him stand and walk, but he shows me how to love. I feed him, but he shows me how to love. I bring him to physical therapy, but he shows me how to love. I stretch his muscles and joke around with him, but he shows me how to love. I lift him in and out of his chair, I wheel him all over the place, but he shows me how to love. I give up my time, so much time, for him, but he shows me how to love...

Speaking of love, here is my favorite quote from the Pope's Easter address that followed this special moment, and one I'm keeping in my pocket for those extra-difficult parenting days:

Let us never forget that authentic power is service. Only those who serve with love are able to protect.

I'll definitely be keeping my eye on Pope Francis in coming months and hope to welcome more inspiring moments like this in the future.  Is it a sign of getting old that my latest crush is a 76 year old celibate man? 

Sigh.  Here's to the grown up life...