Journal of Sacred Work

   It’s among the most memorable two minutes in film history and you can see it simply by double-clicking on this circular movie reel icon > from Reel Classics (Note: depending on your computer, you may have to wait a moment for the clip to play.) The movie is High Noon (1952) starring Gary Cooper. It profiles the enduring story of a solitary person facing the forces of an overwhelming enemy. Everyone has abandoned the protagonist. He stands alone for the cause of right and justice.
   The story is as old as David & Goliath. Yet it holds endless fascination for each of us. So often, the work of caregiving feels so solitary: you against the forces of illness, you as the only caregiver at a given moment in time, you against all those who misunderstand you…

   Family caregivers in home settings, especially those looking after patients who suffer from dementia or are unconscious, sit in lonely vigil next to vulnerable humanity. Perhaps this is why we never tire of stories like High Noon. We want Gary Cooper’s valiant sheriff to win, to defeat the bad guys, and to be lifted to the shoulders of the adoring crowd who, moments before, had hidden behind the curtains. But real life often deprives us of both the victory and the celebration.
   Populations are terribly dependent on the courage of solitary figures to lead us in times of trouble. In 1940, the British looked for hope to the defiant, cigar-smoking image of Winston Churchill, a man who was described as so eloquent that "he marshalled the English language and sent it into battle."
   In ancient times, Jews crossing the desert looked to Moses to give them the courage to carry on. In the 1940s, tens of millions of Indians looked to Gandhi to lead them to freedom. And, of course, in the 1950s and ’60s, millions looked to Martin Luther King for guidance, while simultaneously, others reviled him.
   In smaller settings, employed caregivers look each day to their leaders for inspiration and for hope. Often, they look in vain.
   Too many leaders shirk their responsibility to lead with courage and love. They follow the easy path because it takes not only vision, but boldness to lead people out of the status quo. Doubts rise up. Resistance to change is ever-present. And leaders who seek change, even when it’s clearly change for the better, are certain to be reviled by many before their truth is finally acknowledged.
   Individual caregivers often need the same courage. Their enemies may not be a group of gun-toting bad guys. But the forces of illness are no less real.
   In High Noon, the dramatic theme is reinforced by several elements: 1) The good sheriff is abandoned just at the moment he most needs help. 2) There is time urgency since the train carrying the bad guys arrives right at noon. 3) And so many are arrayed against just one. The odds seem impossible. How can he possibly succeed?
  But what if he had lost? What if he had been shot dead by the first black-hatted gunslinger that got off the train? For some, that would not be an intending they could celebrate. But isn’t this the story of Jesus – someone who was defeated and than transcended defeat? Isn’t this the story of all who seek to fight the forces of evil especially if they fail? The question is not if we lose our battle, but whether we are fighting for the cause of Love. My son’s favorite quote is from Ralph Ellison, immortal author of The Invisible Man:

      Humanity is won by continuing to play in the face of certain defeat.

   This is a thing that Love does – it continues in the face of certain defeat. It is the nurse who comforts a terminally ill baby and stays with him until the moment of his death, even though there is no longer anything she can do to save him. And it is you, every time you continue to love another even when it makes absolutely no sense.