Percy Bysshe Shelley’s famous poem “Ozymandias” was a reminder that people who possess power are often blinded by their moments of strength. The poem suggests the voice of an egocentric Egyptian king: “My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
The poem mocks the ruler’s hubris as we look at what is left of the “great” king’s statue eroding in the desert: “Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare / The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
True greatness is not born within the ego and self-importance of a person. Greatness emerges from those who are simple and pure; humble and grateful.
When we are confronted with new leaders, do we look at their power and at their wealth? Are we impressed with their poll numbers or the amount of people who applaud them? I think we look for those little things that connect them to the true world of what is important. Anne Frank cherished her diary. One of Abraham Lincoln’s favorite desserts was almond cake.
Many years ago, I was invited to the Vatican to deliver a talk to the Pontifical Council of the Family’s international conference on the disabled in the church. After my presentation, I was given a personal introduction to Pope John Paul II. He was warm, physically weak and surrounded by his cardinals. I thanked him for all he had done for the world, he blessed me, a photograph was taken and I spent the rest of the day with a kind priest who gave me a private tour of St. Peter’s Basilica, the Pieta, the tomb of the popes and the Sistine Chapel. With the grandeur of the church, the beauty and power of Michelangelo’s artworks, meeting the pope, being in Rome, I could not explain the power of the coconut vendor.
It was hot in Rome that spring, and when I left the Vatican, I was taking a small walk before my trip back to the airport when I came upon a man standing next to a four-shelf fountain. Water bubbled up at the top shelf, as the water reached the edge, the water flowed to the next shelf underneath, and each shelf caught the water from the one above it in a constant circulation of water, all to keep slices of coconuts cool and refreshing.
I had never seen such a clever contraption before. It was as if someone brought this marvel from Alice’s Wonderland. When I looked beyond the coconut shelves at the formidable dome of St. Peter, when I turned and looked at the historic city of Rome, when I thought about the pope, when I thought about how small the Earth is as we float in the universe, I was reminded that power and prestige do not come from what we give our kings, popes and presidents.
Power is found in the universal delights and goodness we hold within ourselves. Power comes from the hopes that others will recognize our true needs and dreams in our local community. Power is hidden in ordinary living, not in the intrigue of war, spite, vengeance and greed.
We have a new pope, Pope Leo XIV. When I heard that he will not wear the red shoes of the pope, but his ordinary black shoes, when I heard that he urged his cardinals to make themselves small and follow in the humble footsteps of Pope Francis, when Pope Leo pledged his alignment with ordinary people and not the rich and powerful, I could just imagine this man taking great delight in the cool, fresh coconuts.
We need to focus on what is essential: love and goodness.
There are men who gild their offices with gold. There are men of greed who invade the land of their neighbors. There are men who build monuments to themselves.
The sands of time erode this ignoble hubris. The great pyramids of Giza are showing their age. The memory of kings, delusional presidents and errant dictators eventually will be forever lost on the level sands that will stretch far away from what is essential.
Before he was elected pope, Leo XIV explained his vision of leadership in the church. “The bishop is not supposed to be a little prince sitting in his kingdom, but rather called authentically to be humble, to be close to the people he serves, to walk with them, to suffer with them and to look for ways that he can better live the Gospel message in the midst of his people.”
I’d like to share a slice of coconut with Pope Leo. To build a community, you start with the people, not with the size of the king’s throne.