Opening Doors

Malcolm Briggs

Responding to a Cut-Flower Society

Some thirty-five years ago I listened to a talk by evangelist Leighton Ford in which he mentioned we are living in a “cut-flower society.” What I took him to mean is that we are a culture cut off from our roots, still exhibiting the beauty of its blossoms, but beginning to fade, as happens when a flower is cut off from its source of nutrients. I believe now, some three and a half decades later, we are beginning to see the petals fall off. What are we to do? How does one individual respond—not only to the external petals dropping, GM in bankruptcy, ballooning national debt, increasing cultural coarseness, public and private corruption—but to the personal petals dropping, losing a house, a job, a marriage?

One part of the answer is a kind of recalibration. In the introduction to his eclectic collection of 365 lives of men and women throughout history called All Saints, editor Robert Ellsberg says: “We are formed by what we admire.” Therein lies part of our problem. On a recent flight from Jacksonville to Baltimore, 150 passengers were asked to name one Medal of Honor winner. One man named one of our national heroes. When asked who was the most recent American Idol winner, forty-three passengers knew the name.

We need to recalibrate who and what we admire. One person worthy of our admiration is a man named Alphonsus Rodriguez, one of the people in Ellsberg’s All Saints. Alphonsus was born to a wealthy Spanish wool merchant in 1533. At the age of twelve his father died and his mother summoned him home from a nearby Jesuit college, where he had just begun his studies, to run the family business. Some years later, at age twenty-seven, he married and had two children. When he was nearly forty, all the petals in his life dropped off. His wife died in childbirth, followed shortly by the deaths of his mother and his other children, and the family business failed.

Rather than shaking his fist at God for such multiple misfortune, Alphonsus decided to dedicate the rest of his life in service to God. He attempted to enter the Society of Jesus but was turned down due to his age and, ironically, his lack of education. He persisted and was eventually offered the position of porter at a nearby Jesuit college—essentially greeting and carrying the luggage of incoming students. He stayed at this post for the next forty years.

That would mark the end of a seemingly unremarkable life except for one facet. As Ellsberg describes it, “He performed his tasks with such infinite love that the act of opening the door became a sacramental gesture. So deeply did the porter’s faith and love shine through his daily occupation that many of his students who passed through his doorway ended up applying for his spiritual direction.” Thus he became the spiritual mentor of generations of Jesuit priests who, in turn, influenced countless others. In a final tribute to his life, his funeral was attended not only by Spanish royalty but by many poor and sick of the area.

One response to our “cut-flower society” is to recalibrate what we admire. Another is to seek out our own unique calling and pursue it with passion and sacramental purpose. You and I can make a difference.  

Malcolm Briggs is founder and principal of Andesa Strategies, Inc. in Allentown, Pennsylvania, and a Trustee of the Trinity Forum.

2 Responses (comments are closed) • Features, Being Human, Leadership, Sun 12 Jul 2009