The Brotherly Shove

I have never been, nor will I ever be, a crowd person. You will never see me at Times Square on New Year’s Eve. It takes a miracle to get me to Disney World. Yet somehow, I found myself amongst the hundreds of thousands of pilgrims trying to squeeze through a narrow security gate to be present for the funeral of Pope Francis.

Hands and limbs of those not related to me were jabbing me from every angle. I couldn’t see ahead of me to know where it would end, nor could I see an escape path behind me. The sea of people would be still until a promise of forward momentum would initiate a global wave of pushing. In this case, you just prayed and hoped to remain upright. Whole groups from other countries would form human chains and force their way through to the front of the crowd. While I knew that many people surrounding me were people of faith, it will go down as one of the least holy experiences of my life.

After an hour, we finally spilled into St. Peter’s Square and found a spot with a little breathing room. My oldest could see me taking some deep breaths and patted me on the shoulder. She told me, “I know you don’t like being pushed, Dad.”

As I tried to prepare my heart and mind for Mass, I couldn’t help but think about how uncomfortable the experience made me. In life and leadership, sometimes we need a push and other times we need to give one to others. The question is, when I’m the one who is giving the shove am I doing it for the good of the other or so that I can get to where I want to be?

Whether it’s pushing my children to believe or succeed, or keeping my colleagues on deadline or within budget, how will others know that it’s for them that I’m pushing? As we continue as pilgrims of hope, let’s make sure that if we really need to shove that we do it with great love.