"If you have nothing to die for you’re already dead."

I remember in 1978, when I was a sun burnt kid with cut offs and a bad hair cut. I had a hero. Someone who was larger than life to me. 6’ 5”, valedictorian of his graduating class, talented athlete, but could draw and paint. He filled the room with his laughter. In my mom’s words, “He just made life seem bigger.” My old man.

As you grow older, you see your hero with all of his imperfections and shortcomings. As you mature, your definition of what a true hero is starts to change as well.

Where are our heroes today? At times it’s easy to get pessimistic about the selfishness that exists in our world. It’s on display everywhere you look. People trying to board a plane before everyone else, taking credit for things at work, or even helping themselves to the big piece of chicken at dinner. Have we lost faith in each other? Do we live in a time where the only way you can find happiness is at the expense of someone else?

According to the folks at the Carnegie Hero Fund, heroes are everywhere. You just have to know where to look. The fund has recognized hundreds of people annually who meet their criteria of what it means to be a hero. They are so flooded with nominations that they had to toughen up the criteria. It’s inspiring to hear the stories of regular men and women, courageously putting themselves in harms way to protect someone they often don’t even know. When these award winners were asked why they did what they did, there was a common theme in their response. “Well, if the roles were reversed, they would have done the same for me.” There is a belief in heroes that they are not special, and a trust in their fellow man. A belief that deep down, past our differences in race, wealth, faith or politics, we all care for one another.

Ten years ago, a wirey kid from St. Louis who played in various bands while in high school, felt the call to the priesthood. He is currently in New York in formation. Brother John Klien wrote a song called Love is Brave. I think it helps us frame what we as Catholics, see as a hero.

My dad’s been gone for five years now. Not a day goes by that I don’t see his hand in who I am, both the good and the bad. I remember the day of his funeral. A man came up to me that I didn’t know. He told me a story. At a church meeting, each of them were asked to identify a hero; someone in their life who demonstrated greater than anyone, a selfless love that inspired you. He showed me the piece of paper my dad turned in. On it was scribbled the words, “my son, Ben.”

None of us deserve praise for doing what is right. The trust we have in each other, the willingness to put our needs behind those we love as well as those we don’t know, comes from inside us. The part of us where God lives. That part of us where we are all the same.