I sat on my couch with a watered down bowl of Campbell's Tomato Soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. It was an incredibly surreal day after having experienced 20 years of big traditional family Thanksgivings. The food wasn't bad and I had a roof over my head but what I remember most about that day was looking down at my plate and thinking, "This cannot really be happening." I was alone. Utterly, completely alone. Not just alone though. I had been forgotten. No one called, no one invited me over.
My dad had died the year before and with that death came the loss of my entire family, and a lot of friends as well. Hundred's of people showed up to my dad's funeral but not one of them thought of me a year later. I was the sheep that no one came to look for. I was the burden that no one wanted to carry. I was essential to no one and dispensable to everyone.
Soon afterwards I lost my apartment and became homeless. I began bunking on friend's couches; struggling to get through school. People were confused about my situation They wanted to care but didn't really want to get involved. I think they missed me as a friend but were overwhelmed with the chaotic mess my life had turned into so they stayed away. Things slowly and eventually improved but remembering that one moment in my life, sitting and staring at a bowl of red soup always makes my chest tighten.
Loneliness is a hard thing to forget especially around the Holiday's.
It is not enough to be grateful. It is not enough to say the words that we are thankful for this or that blessing. Gratitude, just like love and forgiveness, are not nouns. They are verbs that require action. They require a response, proof that we are indeed so very thankful for the blessings in our lives.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Monday, November 18, 2013
Silly Little Parties.
Our plans for the Thanksgiving Food Baskets and the December Christmas Party are well under way. Special thanks to everyone who has donated towards the food baskets. There are still some things we need so message if you would like to help.
Father David Medina, in his homily this past weekend, said that helping the poor is a lot like caring for our children when they are ill. Many times there is very little we can do to actually speed up the healing process. But we can give our children medicine, we can give them hugs and snuggles. We can show them in so many ways that they are loved and being cared for. It may not do a lot to actually heal the illness but it makes our children feel safe and protected. Similarly, we can protest and fight against the systems until the end of our days and these are not erroneous actions even if we are unsuccessful. But we must take time to love those whom the systems are oppressing.
Sometimes our community parties seem a bit silly. Especially when we are at home planning how many teddy bears we need to buy or what kind of cookies to bake. Don't get me wrong, the parties are super fun but at times it seems a bit silly is all. It actually may be silly but these parties are far from superficial.
We are not just giving teddy bears. We are giving middle of the night hugs when the police sirens are blaring. We are giving something nice to dream about while they lay in bed and hear their mom crying. We are giving a friend when the weekends feel long and lonely and tummies are empty.
And when Santa Clause only visits the homes of the wealthy, these bears and other toys can be unwrapped and serve as a reminder that the Infant Jesus does not just visit the poor, but He chooses to live with them and love them.
We are giving the moms and dads and grandparents a nice evening with their kids, full of music and games and toys. We are providing a small amount of relief in the never ending stress that accompanies poverty. And in the corner of the party, while the kids are eating cookies and having their faces painted, we are quietly providing a day or two worth of food for the family. We are interacting with these families and listening to their stories, easing their burdens just a little bit.
Are we erasing oppression and eliminating poverty? Not even close. But we are, I hope, showing the poor that they are loved and cared for. And in that, I hope we are serving Christ.
Father David Medina, in his homily this past weekend, said that helping the poor is a lot like caring for our children when they are ill. Many times there is very little we can do to actually speed up the healing process. But we can give our children medicine, we can give them hugs and snuggles. We can show them in so many ways that they are loved and being cared for. It may not do a lot to actually heal the illness but it makes our children feel safe and protected. Similarly, we can protest and fight against the systems until the end of our days and these are not erroneous actions even if we are unsuccessful. But we must take time to love those whom the systems are oppressing.
Sometimes our community parties seem a bit silly. Especially when we are at home planning how many teddy bears we need to buy or what kind of cookies to bake. Don't get me wrong, the parties are super fun but at times it seems a bit silly is all. It actually may be silly but these parties are far from superficial.
We are not just giving teddy bears. We are giving middle of the night hugs when the police sirens are blaring. We are giving something nice to dream about while they lay in bed and hear their mom crying. We are giving a friend when the weekends feel long and lonely and tummies are empty.
And when Santa Clause only visits the homes of the wealthy, these bears and other toys can be unwrapped and serve as a reminder that the Infant Jesus does not just visit the poor, but He chooses to live with them and love them.
We are giving the moms and dads and grandparents a nice evening with their kids, full of music and games and toys. We are providing a small amount of relief in the never ending stress that accompanies poverty. And in the corner of the party, while the kids are eating cookies and having their faces painted, we are quietly providing a day or two worth of food for the family. We are interacting with these families and listening to their stories, easing their burdens just a little bit.
Are we erasing oppression and eliminating poverty? Not even close. But we are, I hope, showing the poor that they are loved and cared for. And in that, I hope we are serving Christ.
Monday, November 4, 2013
Things we are doing, Stuff we are praying for:
Hey Everyone! We mostly need everyone's prayers. If you would like to do more, here is what is upcoming:
November 26 we will be delivering 40 Thanksgiving Baskets to RiverGlenn Apartments.
We would like each basket to include the following:
A small ham or turkey
1 box of stuffing
1 box of butter
1 bag of rolls
I can of cranberry sauce
1 can of green beans
1 bag of potatoes
1 pie
On December 21st we will be having a Christmas Party with the residents of RiverGlenn.
We are collecting 30 each of the following:
New Build-a-Bears (the ones valued at $10) completed with cardboard house.
Christmas coloring book
Pack of Crayons
Warm Kids Blankets
Winter Hat
Winter Gloves
We will also be handing out 30 Food Baskets at this party to include the following:
1 Whole Chicken
1 small bag of potatoes
1 pie
Can of Corn
We also hope to provide a $10.00 Walmart gift card to each adult. There will be about 50 adults.
We are praying for support and participation in these efforts. If you wish to help in anyway, you can message us on FB or email to catholicworkertulsa@gmail.com
November 26 we will be delivering 40 Thanksgiving Baskets to RiverGlenn Apartments.
We would like each basket to include the following:
A small ham or turkey
1 box of stuffing
1 box of butter
1 bag of rolls
I can of cranberry sauce
1 can of green beans
1 bag of potatoes
1 pie
On December 21st we will be having a Christmas Party with the residents of RiverGlenn.
We are collecting 30 each of the following:
New Build-a-Bears (the ones valued at $10) completed with cardboard house.
Christmas coloring book
Pack of Crayons
Warm Kids Blankets
Winter Hat
Winter Gloves
We will also be handing out 30 Food Baskets at this party to include the following:
1 Whole Chicken
1 small bag of potatoes
1 pie
Can of Corn
We also hope to provide a $10.00 Walmart gift card to each adult. There will be about 50 adults.
We are praying for support and participation in these efforts. If you wish to help in anyway, you can message us on FB or email to catholicworkertulsa@gmail.com
Monday, September 23, 2013
I Am Such a Jerk
Two weeks ago I had a moment of honest charity. I won't go into the details but suffice it to say that I was pretty darn proud of myself. And I used the opportunity to try to convince God that I was ready for more.
"See, God? Did you see my obedient and compassionate spirit? Surely that is proof that I am all yours and you can trust me to care for the least of your children."
Now I can't be sure, but there is a high likelihood that God snorted back at me.
Because then Saturday happened.
Allow me to set the stage. It was my birthday celebration day. So good moods and happy, shining faces were all around. I had cards telling me how much I was loved and appreciated. The sun was shining and it was just a tad chilly, so the weather was perfect. We had eaten breakfast together as a family that morning and spent several hours discussing our role to stand up for and have compassion on the poor.
So, you see, there was really no excuse for my behavior.
My daughter had taken my car to vacuum and clean it for me and then she ran to the bookstore to find me a generous and well thought out birthday gift. On the way home, at a stoplight, she was lightly bumped by the car behind her. The gentleman followed my daughter to a nearby Target parking lot to inspect the damage, which was minimal. A couple scratches. Hardly noticeable. He gave my daughter his name, tag number and phone number. He was polite and respectful. The condition of his car and his dress indicated that he could be poor. My daughter, rightfully so, came home and expected our family to be compassionate.
I was a jerk. Out of nowhere an intense fury rained down on my home and I began screaming. At my daughter, at this bungling fool who hit her, at my deductible. And I called the police. An officer came out, ran this man's tag and information, which of course came back with no insurance and a traffic warrant out for his arrest. The officer offered to go and arrest him and I responded with the words, "Go Get Him!"
Bastard hit my new car, he deserves to be in jail.
That night I received the following text:
"Mam, I want to apologize for hitting your car this afternoon. My wife passed away two months ago and I have been struggling trying to raise our 1 year old and 3 year old kids on my own. Without my wife's income my car insurance, along with a lot of other things, has lapsed but I promise if you get an estimate I will pay you cash, if I can have some time. The officer came to my house. If he puts me in jail there will be no one to care for my young boys. Please, can you have mercy?"
Matthew 18.
"See, God? Did you see my obedient and compassionate spirit? Surely that is proof that I am all yours and you can trust me to care for the least of your children."
Now I can't be sure, but there is a high likelihood that God snorted back at me.
Because then Saturday happened.
Allow me to set the stage. It was my birthday celebration day. So good moods and happy, shining faces were all around. I had cards telling me how much I was loved and appreciated. The sun was shining and it was just a tad chilly, so the weather was perfect. We had eaten breakfast together as a family that morning and spent several hours discussing our role to stand up for and have compassion on the poor.
So, you see, there was really no excuse for my behavior.
My daughter had taken my car to vacuum and clean it for me and then she ran to the bookstore to find me a generous and well thought out birthday gift. On the way home, at a stoplight, she was lightly bumped by the car behind her. The gentleman followed my daughter to a nearby Target parking lot to inspect the damage, which was minimal. A couple scratches. Hardly noticeable. He gave my daughter his name, tag number and phone number. He was polite and respectful. The condition of his car and his dress indicated that he could be poor. My daughter, rightfully so, came home and expected our family to be compassionate.
I was a jerk. Out of nowhere an intense fury rained down on my home and I began screaming. At my daughter, at this bungling fool who hit her, at my deductible. And I called the police. An officer came out, ran this man's tag and information, which of course came back with no insurance and a traffic warrant out for his arrest. The officer offered to go and arrest him and I responded with the words, "Go Get Him!"
Bastard hit my new car, he deserves to be in jail.
That night I received the following text:
"Mam, I want to apologize for hitting your car this afternoon. My wife passed away two months ago and I have been struggling trying to raise our 1 year old and 3 year old kids on my own. Without my wife's income my car insurance, along with a lot of other things, has lapsed but I promise if you get an estimate I will pay you cash, if I can have some time. The officer came to my house. If he puts me in jail there will be no one to care for my young boys. Please, can you have mercy?"
Matthew 18.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Luke 6
Looking at his disciples, he said:
27 “But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, 28 bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. 29 If someone slaps you on one cheek, turn to them the other also. If someone takes your coat, do not withhold your shirt from them. 30 Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. 31 Do to others as you would have them do to you.
32 “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them. 33 And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do that. 34 And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, expecting to be repaid in full. 35 But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. 36 Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.
37 “Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. 38 Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”
39 He also told them this parable: “Can the blind lead the blind? Will they not both fall into a pit? 40 The student is not above the teacher, but everyone who is fully trained will be like their teacher.
41 “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? 42 How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.
43 “No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. 44 Each tree is recognized by its own fruit. People do not pick figs from thornbushes, or grapes from briers. 45 A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.
46 “Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say? 47 As for everyone who comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice, I will show you what they are like. 48 They are like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built. 49 But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck that house, it collapsed and its destruction was complete.”
“Blessed are you who
are poor,
for yours is the kingdom of God.
21 Blessed are you who hunger now,
for you will be satisfied.
Blessed are you who weep now,
for you will laugh.
22 Blessed are you when people hate you,
when they exclude you and insult you
and reject your name as evil,
because of the Son of Man.
for yours is the kingdom of God.
21 Blessed are you who hunger now,
for you will be satisfied.
Blessed are you who weep now,
for you will laugh.
22 Blessed are you when people hate you,
when they exclude you and insult you
and reject your name as evil,
because of the Son of Man.
23 “Rejoice in that day and leap for
joy,
because great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their ancestors treated
the prophets.
24 “But woe to you who are rich,
for you have already received your comfort.
25 Woe to you who are well fed now,
for you will go hungry.
Woe to you who laugh now,
for you will mourn and weep.
26 Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you,
for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets.
for you have already received your comfort.
25 Woe to you who are well fed now,
for you will go hungry.
Woe to you who laugh now,
for you will mourn and weep.
26 Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you,
for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets.
Love for Enemies
27 “But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, 28 bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. 29 If someone slaps you on one cheek, turn to them the other also. If someone takes your coat, do not withhold your shirt from them. 30 Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. 31 Do to others as you would have them do to you.
32 “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them. 33 And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do that. 34 And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, expecting to be repaid in full. 35 But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. 36 Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.
37 “Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. 38 Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”
39 He also told them this parable: “Can the blind lead the blind? Will they not both fall into a pit? 40 The student is not above the teacher, but everyone who is fully trained will be like their teacher.
41 “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? 42 How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.
43 “No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. 44 Each tree is recognized by its own fruit. People do not pick figs from thornbushes, or grapes from briers. 45 A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.
46 “Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say? 47 As for everyone who comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice, I will show you what they are like. 48 They are like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built. 49 But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck that house, it collapsed and its destruction was complete.”
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Explaining Syria to My Pacifist Children
My children have been raised on the stories of Les Mis, Hairspray, Newsies and Rent. They don't always have to be musicals. We watch Alkeela and the Bee, Freedom Writers and, because they love them so much, we throw in the occasional documentary as well. Even my youngest children have been watching edited versions of movies that portray the struggle of the marginalized of our society since they were way too little.
During our summer vacation, we spent 50$ just so my children could stand here:
.JPG)
Later that day, we drove to Birmingham and went to the 16th Street Church. We talked about the children who were killed and others jailed during the civil rights marches.
And we stopped and chatted with three homeless men who live at the Birmingham Civil Rights park, "A Place of Revolution and Reconciliation" and we talked about the irony of the entire situation and how disappointed MLK would be to see three African American homeless gentlemen living on the very spot where others died so they could have a better chance at justice.
So, basically, my kids are always pumped up and ready for a righteous fight. A fight for justice. A fight to stand for the oppressed and abused. It is a pretty hyper-sensitive way to live actually, especially when there is no fight to fight on a daily basis. I feel sorry for their teachers because my kids will defend the Church and the poor beyond their own pride, reputation and social standing. I hear that class discussions are tricky. We laugh at ourselves a lot.
But now my children may have a chance. We are on the brink of another war. Perhaps a bad war. And they have questions.
Last night we began by googling the history of this most recent conflict. It began in 2011 when some school children were kidnapped and tortured by Syrian government forces after they wrote some anti-government opinions on a wall.
The citizens saw the injustice and went to the street asking for justice and democracy. During the peaceful protest, Syrian government forces shot their weapons into the crowd and killed 4 people. At the funerals of these victims, the government shot into the crowds again, killing another one.
What began as a peaceful protest had now turned into a full fledged civil war and it has been going on for two years now. The Syrian people against the Syrian government. It is violent. So many have been killed. So many have fled. It is really terrible.
And now we hear that the Syrian government used weapons against its own citizens. Chemical Weapons that are so horrible they are internationally against the law. People suffered under the torture of these weapons.
Can you feel it? That gut wrenching awareness of the horror going on in Syria? Hell yes! Bomb Them! Bomb them to God! How can we let such horror go unpunished?
My kids felt it too. They had lots of questions but two main topics arose:
1. Why shouldn't we go to war against such evil people?
and
2. If war is not an option, do we do nothing?
1. Why not war? Although my brother and I disagree on so many things, including this, he gave them the most perfect answer...I quote
" If we hit Syria, dominoes start to fall. What does Iran and Hezbollah do? What does Russia do? Will there be a follow-on ground invasion to secure those chemical weapons, otherwise who gains control of those - al Qaeda?
During our summer vacation, we spent 50$ just so my children could stand here:
.JPG)
Later that day, we drove to Birmingham and went to the 16th Street Church. We talked about the children who were killed and others jailed during the civil rights marches.
And we stopped and chatted with three homeless men who live at the Birmingham Civil Rights park, "A Place of Revolution and Reconciliation" and we talked about the irony of the entire situation and how disappointed MLK would be to see three African American homeless gentlemen living on the very spot where others died so they could have a better chance at justice.
So, basically, my kids are always pumped up and ready for a righteous fight. A fight for justice. A fight to stand for the oppressed and abused. It is a pretty hyper-sensitive way to live actually, especially when there is no fight to fight on a daily basis. I feel sorry for their teachers because my kids will defend the Church and the poor beyond their own pride, reputation and social standing. I hear that class discussions are tricky. We laugh at ourselves a lot.But now my children may have a chance. We are on the brink of another war. Perhaps a bad war. And they have questions.
Last night we began by googling the history of this most recent conflict. It began in 2011 when some school children were kidnapped and tortured by Syrian government forces after they wrote some anti-government opinions on a wall.
The citizens saw the injustice and went to the street asking for justice and democracy. During the peaceful protest, Syrian government forces shot their weapons into the crowd and killed 4 people. At the funerals of these victims, the government shot into the crowds again, killing another one.
What began as a peaceful protest had now turned into a full fledged civil war and it has been going on for two years now. The Syrian people against the Syrian government. It is violent. So many have been killed. So many have fled. It is really terrible.
And now we hear that the Syrian government used weapons against its own citizens. Chemical Weapons that are so horrible they are internationally against the law. People suffered under the torture of these weapons.
Can you feel it? That gut wrenching awareness of the horror going on in Syria? Hell yes! Bomb Them! Bomb them to God! How can we let such horror go unpunished?
My kids felt it too. They had lots of questions but two main topics arose:
1. Why shouldn't we go to war against such evil people?
and
2. If war is not an option, do we do nothing?
1. Why not war? Although my brother and I disagree on so many things, including this, he gave them the most perfect answer...I quote
" If we hit Syria, dominoes start to fall. What does Iran and Hezbollah do? What does Russia do? Will there be a follow-on ground invasion to secure those chemical weapons, otherwise who gains control of those - al Qaeda?
What happens when Egypt then explodes along with Gaza and and the Golan heights, then Israel is forced to respond. Now you have a regional war. With Russian backing one side and us backing the other. It's a world war 3 scenario again."
That is why we don't bomb them. It doesn't solve the problems of evil in Syria, it just spreads the evil to the rest of the world causing senseless death and destruction.
2. Do we do nothing? No. We don't do nothing. We pray. Don't mistake my intent or giggle. I am not saying that we quietly hope or we think positive thoughts. We don't update our statuses or tweet our desire for peace. We don't use our wish as we blow out candles. This is not superstitious nonsense.
WE PRAY
We commit to days of fasting. We blow the dust off of our rosary, call our friends and start meeting at church in the wee hours of the morning and the late hours of the night. We call down the intercessions of our holy Saints, of Saint Michael the Archangel and of God The Almighty Creator of the World and the Heavens above it. Don't screw with me on this. I am not joking. If Christianity is the faith you have signed up for, than we must believe that Jesus told Peter and every disciple who would follow to put down his sword, his gun, his bomb and his righteous vengeful spirit.
Now is the time. Join in Prayer.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Making Bad Decisions
One of my favorite Catholic Worker stories is the tale of the diamond ring.
"Tom Cornell tells the story of a donor coming into the New York house one morning and giving Dorothy a diamond ring. Dorothy thanked her for the donation and put it in her pocket without batting an eye. Later a certain demented lady came in, one of the more irritating regulars at the CW house, one of those people who make you wonder if you were cut out for life in a house of hospitality. I can't recall her ever saying "thank you" or looking like she was on the edge of saying it. She had a voice that could strip paint off the wall. Dorothy took the diamond ring out of her pocket and gave it to this lady. Someone on the staff said to Dorothy, "Wouldn't it have been better if we took the ring to the diamond exchange, sold it, and paid that woman's rent for a year?". Dorothy replied that the woman had her dignity and could do what she liked with the ring. She could sell it for rent money or take a trip to the Bahamas. Or she could enjoy wearing a diamond ring on her hand like the woman who gave it away. "Do you suppose," Dorothy asked, "that God created diamonds only for the rich?"
What a waste of resources. Giving this poor women a diamond ring when the money could have gone for a more practical purpose. That is the way we think, isn't it? We are very earthly, considering each financial decision with a magnifying glass of economic scrutiny. Wondering if our interest rates are passing the Dave Ramsey seal of approval. Maybe we are hoping that God, when our judgment comes, will be so impressed with our credit rating that not only will we get into Heaven, we will win a free t-shirt too.
Catholic Worker is does not have a history of making safe, practical decisions. Dorothy used her rent and electric bill money to print the first issue of The Catholic Worker. She was late with both bills, so I sure hope God didn't pull her credit report to see if she was overdue. CW is not practical. Christianity is not practical. I refuse to be practical.
I will not enter Heaven as God's unprofitable servant. I will not take the faith and joy and money He has given me and bury it in some bank account somewhere out of fear that it will be misused. I will not be scared to live on the fringe of society. I will not wait for permission to do the right thing.
In 1939 heading into 1940, Dorothy wrote her new resolutions:
"To pay no attention to health of the body but only that of my soul. To plan each day upon arising. And in the evening examination of conscience. To waste no time. More charity."
I adopt these resolutions as my own.
"Tom Cornell tells the story of a donor coming into the New York house one morning and giving Dorothy a diamond ring. Dorothy thanked her for the donation and put it in her pocket without batting an eye. Later a certain demented lady came in, one of the more irritating regulars at the CW house, one of those people who make you wonder if you were cut out for life in a house of hospitality. I can't recall her ever saying "thank you" or looking like she was on the edge of saying it. She had a voice that could strip paint off the wall. Dorothy took the diamond ring out of her pocket and gave it to this lady. Someone on the staff said to Dorothy, "Wouldn't it have been better if we took the ring to the diamond exchange, sold it, and paid that woman's rent for a year?". Dorothy replied that the woman had her dignity and could do what she liked with the ring. She could sell it for rent money or take a trip to the Bahamas. Or she could enjoy wearing a diamond ring on her hand like the woman who gave it away. "Do you suppose," Dorothy asked, "that God created diamonds only for the rich?"
What a waste of resources. Giving this poor women a diamond ring when the money could have gone for a more practical purpose. That is the way we think, isn't it? We are very earthly, considering each financial decision with a magnifying glass of economic scrutiny. Wondering if our interest rates are passing the Dave Ramsey seal of approval. Maybe we are hoping that God, when our judgment comes, will be so impressed with our credit rating that not only will we get into Heaven, we will win a free t-shirt too.
Catholic Worker is does not have a history of making safe, practical decisions. Dorothy used her rent and electric bill money to print the first issue of The Catholic Worker. She was late with both bills, so I sure hope God didn't pull her credit report to see if she was overdue. CW is not practical. Christianity is not practical. I refuse to be practical.
I will not enter Heaven as God's unprofitable servant. I will not take the faith and joy and money He has given me and bury it in some bank account somewhere out of fear that it will be misused. I will not be scared to live on the fringe of society. I will not wait for permission to do the right thing.
In 1939 heading into 1940, Dorothy wrote her new resolutions:
"To pay no attention to health of the body but only that of my soul. To plan each day upon arising. And in the evening examination of conscience. To waste no time. More charity."
I adopt these resolutions as my own.
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Damn Shame
Many years ago, when I was in training for my first official social work position, our trainer introduced us to the most hopeless of social work concepts. She looked at us with a somber expression and said, "Young social workers, it is time I introduced you to the saddest part of your job. The most tragic families you will ever meet are the "Damn-Shames."
"You will meet this family over and over. Mom's drinking and ends up losing her kids?
That is a damn shame.
Dad got deported? Left behind a wife and three kids who are now losing their home?
That is a damn shame.
10 year old neglected by his family? Smelly, bullied, hungry, failing?
That is a damn shame.
They are all just a damn-shame. But there is nothing you can do about any of them. No one expects you young social workers to solve every problem and heal every hurt. Do what you can and then go home at the end of the day and enjoy your family. Put it out of your head and move on with your job."
Jesus had things to say about the damn shame cases too.
"For the Son of Man has come to save that which was lost. 12"What do you think? If any man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go and search for the one that is straying? 13"If it turns out that he finds it, truly I say to you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine which have not gone astray.…
If God brings a lost soul into my life, it is not a damn shame. But may my shame be forgiven if I ignore God's command on my life.
"You will meet this family over and over. Mom's drinking and ends up losing her kids?
That is a damn shame.
Dad got deported? Left behind a wife and three kids who are now losing their home?
That is a damn shame.
10 year old neglected by his family? Smelly, bullied, hungry, failing?
That is a damn shame.
They are all just a damn-shame. But there is nothing you can do about any of them. No one expects you young social workers to solve every problem and heal every hurt. Do what you can and then go home at the end of the day and enjoy your family. Put it out of your head and move on with your job."
Jesus had things to say about the damn shame cases too.
"For the Son of Man has come to save that which was lost. 12"What do you think? If any man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go and search for the one that is straying? 13"If it turns out that he finds it, truly I say to you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine which have not gone astray.…
If God brings a lost soul into my life, it is not a damn shame. But may my shame be forgiven if I ignore God's command on my life.
Friday, July 19, 2013
From Bolivia
We have to travel into town a bit to find an Internet cafe, but I am here today, typing on a computer circa 1990. I try to be as honest as I can when I write, maybe to a fault, so I will tell you that our trip has been fairly miserable thus far.
We had $600.00US stolen from us going through customs which put a major damper on our touristy plans. Then two days later my two middle children fell seriously ill and were hospitalized for two days. When the staff found out we were from the US, the quality of care plummeted and the cost skyrocketed, which is nothing compared to the black fear we felt for the lives of our children. We thank God and for all the intercessions that they are healthy again.
My plans of retreat and time in prayer seem almost comical at this point, as I can´t seem to find energy to even reach for a bible. I am filled with a cranky, bratty, self imposed pity party that I can´t seem to shake off.
I have lots to share about the comparative poverty and the attitudes of our culture towards economy and the poor versus those from this under developed nation; might not be what you would have imagined. But for today, I want thank all of you for your prayers for my children and our family and to ask that they continue.
All Things in Christ,
Susan
We had $600.00US stolen from us going through customs which put a major damper on our touristy plans. Then two days later my two middle children fell seriously ill and were hospitalized for two days. When the staff found out we were from the US, the quality of care plummeted and the cost skyrocketed, which is nothing compared to the black fear we felt for the lives of our children. We thank God and for all the intercessions that they are healthy again.
My plans of retreat and time in prayer seem almost comical at this point, as I can´t seem to find energy to even reach for a bible. I am filled with a cranky, bratty, self imposed pity party that I can´t seem to shake off.
I have lots to share about the comparative poverty and the attitudes of our culture towards economy and the poor versus those from this under developed nation; might not be what you would have imagined. But for today, I want thank all of you for your prayers for my children and our family and to ask that they continue.
All Things in Christ,
Susan
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Just Shut Up
Many years ago when my children were younger we ran through Arby's drive through for dinner. The line was long after I had a longer day. Service was slow and I was cranky. By the time we got to the window I was in no mood to talk to anyone while the cashier was chatting away. When I didn't respond with friendly banter, she turned slightly and said "Stupid Bitch." I heard it. My kids heard it. Shit was about to hit the fan. I parked my car and marched into the store and proceeded to get her fired. Fired and humiliated as her boss made an example out of her to her co-workers and patrons.
The next day I saw her walking along the road, pregnant and alone.
I heard today that a person I know committed suicide. We were not close but I saw her maybe once a month and we spoke. I have never been nice to this person. We have known each other for 3 years and for the past 3 years, once a month, I have used her as an opportunity to make people around me laugh at her expense. I have never been supportive; always critical and harsh. The word I most often used to describe her was "stupid".
I wish I could tell you why. I wish I could explain why I have been so horrible to someone who, created by God Himself, had never ever said a mean word to me; has never been anything but kind and sweet and patient with me.
I had a part, however small, in the darkness that led her to take her life. I added to her pain and her hopelessness. I created a wound that can never be healed.
I don't have any great theological point to make today. I am the greatest of sinners. My heart is breaking and shame is crashing over me in waves. I am remembering all the times my words have hurt and I am wondering how much damage I have caused. This is poverty. It has almost nothing to do with how much money you have in your pocket and almost everything to do with the pain you carry in your heart. This is the poverty that will always be with us. Our answer is to sit and love those who feel unlovable. To help carry the burdens that others cannot put down. May God have mercy on my soul.
The next day I saw her walking along the road, pregnant and alone.
I heard today that a person I know committed suicide. We were not close but I saw her maybe once a month and we spoke. I have never been nice to this person. We have known each other for 3 years and for the past 3 years, once a month, I have used her as an opportunity to make people around me laugh at her expense. I have never been supportive; always critical and harsh. The word I most often used to describe her was "stupid". I wish I could tell you why. I wish I could explain why I have been so horrible to someone who, created by God Himself, had never ever said a mean word to me; has never been anything but kind and sweet and patient with me.
I had a part, however small, in the darkness that led her to take her life. I added to her pain and her hopelessness. I created a wound that can never be healed.
I don't have any great theological point to make today. I am the greatest of sinners. My heart is breaking and shame is crashing over me in waves. I am remembering all the times my words have hurt and I am wondering how much damage I have caused. This is poverty. It has almost nothing to do with how much money you have in your pocket and almost everything to do with the pain you carry in your heart. This is the poverty that will always be with us. Our answer is to sit and love those who feel unlovable. To help carry the burdens that others cannot put down. May God have mercy on my soul.
- Make us worthy Lord to serve our fellow men throughout the world,
- who live and die in poverty and hunger.
- Give them through our hands, this day, their daily bread
- and by our understanding love give peace and joy.
- Lord, make me a channel of thy peace.
- That where there is hatred I may bring love,
- That where there is wrong, I may bring the spirit of forgiveness,
- That where there is discord, I may bring harmony,
- That where there is error I may bring truth,
- That where there is doubt I may bring faith,
- That where there is despair I may bring hope,
- That where there are shadows I may bring light,
- That where there is sadness I may bring joy.
- Lord, grant that I may seek rather to comfort than to be comforted,
- To understand than to be understood,
- To love than to be loved.
- For it is by forgetting self that one finds.
- It is by forgiving that one is forgiven,
- it is by dying that one awakens to eternal life.
- Amen.
Friday, June 21, 2013
The Pepsi Machine
There is a Pepsi machine that is located at our apartment pool. It is the source of a great deal of frustration and, I imagine, bruised toes.This machine has been broken for two years.
We sit at the pool and watch as person after person, men, women and children try to beat the odds. It will take your change but won't give you anything to drink. It won't take dollars. In fact, far as we can tell, they don't even refill this machine anymore. Anytime you press a button it reads "out". But it still looks pretty. It's still plugged in and refrigerating empty space.
There is no sign warning you, everyone just knows its broken. Everyone even warns everyone else as they approach the machine, just in case they don't know. "It's broken!" is called out many times each day. Every so often, even though we know it is broken and it's going to take our money, someone tries again...ya know, just in case it has been fixed.
Nope, it is never fixed. It is always broken. It will not give you a can of soda. Ever. Never, ever, ever. But maybe..? NO! Don't we understand? It is broken. It cannot physically do what it was created to do.
I was in a professional training yesterday that was teaching the power of positive thinking and how it can make our ability to be successful so much greater. I spent most of the training sitting, feeling pretty negative, actually. Because it would be nice if that were so, but it's not true. Positive energy is a bourgeois luxury because when you have the resources to create success, success perpetuates success which creates its own positive energy. Positive thinking has to be based on something historical that reminds you in your past, at some point, you have been successful and you can be again.
The oppressed and poor in our community. Honestly, if they only exuded more positive energy...right? Our system is broken. Our economy, our educational systems, our family systems, sometimes even our churches...they are broken. They are not providing society what they were created to provide. They create hurdles and road blocks to even the tiniest attempts of improvement. We continue to hope, to place our trust and faith in these systems, because we hear rumors that somewhere, someone found a Pepsi Machine that actually did give them a soda. But for way too many, these systems, these machines that are meant to provide the essentials to us, are just broken.
When we warn someone that the system is broken, it is not because we are expressing negative energy. It doesn't matter how positive I am that the machine will give me a soda...it never will. Children hope that education will lead to success. Adults hope that they can overcome labels of "felony" or "default" or "credit risk" and have financial security. Immigrants hope if they go through the legal steps and learn the language that they will be accepted as equal members of our community. Broke, broke, broke.
My positive energy comes from this fact: God loves us. My faith is no longer in failing systems but in God who never fails.
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Chesterton, Lewis, and Modernity: The Infallible Sign of the Presence of God
By Charles D. Beard
If they find a Christian mistaken in a field which they themselves know well and hear him maintaining his foolish opinions about our books, how are they going to believe those books in matters concerning the resurrection of the dead, the hope of eternal life, and the kingdom of heaven, when they think their pages are full of falsehoods on facts which they themselves have learnt from experience and the light of reason? —Augustine, on why we should avoid literal interpretations of the Bible
One time before his conversion, Augustine tied himself in knots because
he had to deliver a speech honoring the Emperor. In true political form, he
said of it: “I was to deliver many a lie, and the lying was to be applauded by those
who knew I was lying.”
Before he was to deliver the speech, he saw a drunk beggar
wandering the streets of Milan, happy that he’d made enough to get a full belly
and a drink. And Augustine hated himself because he knew that the beggar was
happier than he was.
Many years later, as a bishop, Augustine reflected on this
experience: “He had not, indeed, gained true
joy, but, at the same time, with all my ambitions, I was seeking one still more
untrue.”
In other words, Augustine says that the drunk
was closer to God than he himself was — because at least in that moment, the
drunk was happy.
So let’s talk about how Christians hate joy.
Friday, June 14, 2013
Pray and Fast During the Fortnight for Freedom — Even Though the Bishops Are Wrong
By Charles D. Beard
Yes, conservatives need to do a better job of finding God in Catholics who disagree with them, but so do liberals. We need to remember that Bishops and traditionally minded Catholics are not the enemy. We are all on the same side.
It’s that time of year. The Feast of Sts. Thomas More and
John Fisher is upon us, and the Bishops are once again asking us to pray and
fast during the so-called Fortnight for Freedom — from June 21 to July 4.
Once again, my liberal Catholic reaction ranges somewhere between
an eyeroll and a heavy sigh.
And once again, I’d like to call upon my fellow liberal
Catholics to ignore that gut reaction and participate in the Fortnight anyway.
In this post, I hope to explain why it’s important that we do so.
Before I get into why we should participate in the
Fortnight, I want to explain — in a way I didn’t in my post
last year — why I think the Bishops are going about this in the wrong way. Hopefully
in doing so, I will both give voice to liberal concerns from a Catholic
perspective and reassure traditionalists that it’s possible to disagree with
the Bishops on this without leaving the bounds of orthodoxy.
Those of us who are liberal-but-orthodox haven’t really had
a platform in which to express our concerns. I reject the borderline
anti-intellectualism of post-1990s liberal Catholicism, but that doesn’t make
the reasoning behind the Fortnight for Freedom any better. Here are a couple of
reasons why:
Opposition to the
mandate relies on specious moral reasoning. The HHS contraception mandate
rests on the assumption that Catholic employers and hospitals are directly
participating in evil, and direct participation in evil in never permissible. I
agree that direct participation in evil is wrong, but the Bishops have not done
a good job of delineating what does and does not qualify as “direct.”
For example, the Bishops have in the past lobbied to preserve the Hyde Amendment, which limits federal funding for abortion. But it does something else as well: it maintains federal funding for abortion. When I pay my Medicaid taxes, my money goes into a Great Big Pile of Money, some of which pays for abortion. The Bishops consider this only indirect participation with evil, partly because I don’t intend the evil and partly because most of what Medicaid does is good.
I fail to see how that structure is different from the contraception mandate. The idea goes that an employer pays for an insurance policy, which means his or her money goes into a Great Big Pile, some of which is used to pay for contraceptives. If the employer doesn’t intend the evil (and given the protests, who could say that the evil is intended?) and most of what the insurance policy pays for is good, why is participating in that system different from participating in the Hyde Amendment?
It seems that either both systems are permissible or both are prohibited. If both are prohibited, should I not refuse to pay my Medicaid taxes? (If so, I’ll ask my employer to stop my withholding tomorrow!) If both are permissible, why all this hullaballoo about the Fortnight for Freedom?
It’s possible I’m wrong in my reasoning. But the Bishops are asking us to take spiritual and political action because of this mandate. At minimum, before the Bishops ask us to do that, they owe us theological resources explaining why the HHS mandate and the Hyde Amendment are morally distinct. They have not done so.
For example, the Bishops have in the past lobbied to preserve the Hyde Amendment, which limits federal funding for abortion. But it does something else as well: it maintains federal funding for abortion. When I pay my Medicaid taxes, my money goes into a Great Big Pile of Money, some of which pays for abortion. The Bishops consider this only indirect participation with evil, partly because I don’t intend the evil and partly because most of what Medicaid does is good.
I fail to see how that structure is different from the contraception mandate. The idea goes that an employer pays for an insurance policy, which means his or her money goes into a Great Big Pile, some of which is used to pay for contraceptives. If the employer doesn’t intend the evil (and given the protests, who could say that the evil is intended?) and most of what the insurance policy pays for is good, why is participating in that system different from participating in the Hyde Amendment?
It seems that either both systems are permissible or both are prohibited. If both are prohibited, should I not refuse to pay my Medicaid taxes? (If so, I’ll ask my employer to stop my withholding tomorrow!) If both are permissible, why all this hullaballoo about the Fortnight for Freedom?
It’s possible I’m wrong in my reasoning. But the Bishops are asking us to take spiritual and political action because of this mandate. At minimum, before the Bishops ask us to do that, they owe us theological resources explaining why the HHS mandate and the Hyde Amendment are morally distinct. They have not done so.
Opposition to the
mandate makes too much of the concept of “intrinsic evil.” Most of the
argumentation surrounding the mandate has relied on the term intrinsic evil,
which means something that is never good and is always evil. Murder, for
example, is an intrinsic evil. So is, we are told, the use of contraceptives — at
least when they are used as contraceptives and not for another medical purpose.
So far, so good.
But because the evil is “intrinsic” does not mean that it is automatically worse than other evils. For example, theft of property is an intrinsic evil while war is not. But surely an unjust war is a worse evil than skipping out on the check at a restaurant. The strong opponents of the mandate argue that because contraception is an intrinsic evil, we must spend more time and resources praying and working to end the mandate than, say, working and praying to improve the lives of the poor.
The counterargument is that it’s not necessary for Catholics to agree that this or that program is the best way to help the poor. I agree. But the twin evils of defrauding the laborer of his wages and oppressing widows and orphans are both sins that cry to Heaven for vengeance. If I see a structure that I believe does those things, I believe I have a moral obligation to oppose it. Moreover, I believe that those are worse evils than contraception and thus are more deserving of my resources to stop them.
In other words, I don’t disagree with the goals of the Fortnight for Freedom. But to have this evil picked out of all the evils in our society for a special time of prayer and fasting is extremely disappointing. There are worse evils that the Bishops should be asking us to fast for.
But because the evil is “intrinsic” does not mean that it is automatically worse than other evils. For example, theft of property is an intrinsic evil while war is not. But surely an unjust war is a worse evil than skipping out on the check at a restaurant. The strong opponents of the mandate argue that because contraception is an intrinsic evil, we must spend more time and resources praying and working to end the mandate than, say, working and praying to improve the lives of the poor.
The counterargument is that it’s not necessary for Catholics to agree that this or that program is the best way to help the poor. I agree. But the twin evils of defrauding the laborer of his wages and oppressing widows and orphans are both sins that cry to Heaven for vengeance. If I see a structure that I believe does those things, I believe I have a moral obligation to oppose it. Moreover, I believe that those are worse evils than contraception and thus are more deserving of my resources to stop them.
In other words, I don’t disagree with the goals of the Fortnight for Freedom. But to have this evil picked out of all the evils in our society for a special time of prayer and fasting is extremely disappointing. There are worse evils that the Bishops should be asking us to fast for.
But — thank God! — I am
not a Bishop, and they didn’t ask my opinion.
I think what the Bishops are doing doesn’t help and may harm
the spread of the Gospel in America. I think their actions are playing into the
hands of those — not a few — who confuse Catholicism with conservative
politics.
But they are the Bishops and we are not. Unless they’re
commanding us to sin, we should probably obey them. Asking us to pray and fast
is no sin. Far from it.
We liberal Catholics like to remind our more traditional
brothers and sisters that Catholic means universal. Part of that means finding
God in all things — as St. Ignatius said — even in people we disagree with.
Yes, conservatives need to do a better job of finding God in Catholics who disagree with them, but so do liberals. We need to remember that Bishops and traditionally minded Catholics are not the enemy. We are all on the same side.
I wrote last year: “Maintaining the
unity of the ark of salvation that subsists in the Catholic Church is of
paramount, almost overwhelming, importance.” Before we criticize the
Bishops for divisiveness — even if we have good reasons for doing so — we need to
look to our own lives to make sure that we’re not fomenting divisiveness at our
end. Participating in the Fortnight is one way to avoid that pitfall.
When we participate in the Fortnight, we need to
do a number of things. One of the
primary ones is to do what the Bishops ask: pray for religious freedom in this country.
If you’re like me, you may not think it’s all that much under attack. But the
Second Vatican Council teaches that we should “submit our mind and will to the
Church,” even if the Church isn’t speaking infallibly. Conservatives and
traditionalists seem to have a tendency to interpret that to mean that we
should agree with the Church even against our better judgment. I think that’s a
simplistic interpretation.
Instead, I think it means we should give the Church the benefit of the doubt. I really don’t see how this mandate is “an unprecedented attack on religious liberty,” as the USCCB keeps telling us. But in submitting my mind and will to the Church I should acknowledge that I might be wrong. I want to emphasize: I don’t think I am and I don’t mind telling that to any Bishop who asks me. If I am wrong, though, I don’t want to be someone who didn’t pray that God’s will be done.
Instead, I think it means we should give the Church the benefit of the doubt. I really don’t see how this mandate is “an unprecedented attack on religious liberty,” as the USCCB keeps telling us. But in submitting my mind and will to the Church I should acknowledge that I might be wrong. I want to emphasize: I don’t think I am and I don’t mind telling that to any Bishop who asks me. If I am wrong, though, I don’t want to be someone who didn’t pray that God’s will be done.
So we should pray with the Bishops during the
Fortnight, but we must do a number of other things as well, things that we as
liberal Catholics can offer to the Church. Here are a few:
Pray for religious liberty where it really is threatened. Back in April, two Orthodox bishops were kidnapped in Syria and they
have not been returned. We don’t know much past that, but it’s only the most
sensational reminder that there are places where it is dangerous to be a
Christian. We must do what we can to assist them, even if that just means
praying and fasting for a couple of weeks.
Pray for the Bishops. They have a tough job. They
have to deal with people like me who carp that they’re going too far, as well
as people like Michael Voris, who carp that they don’t go nearly far enough.
Even if we don’t agree with them or support them on this, they deserve our
prayers.
Hug a traditionalist. Matt Malone, the new
editor-in-chief at America, wrote last month
that Catholics must fight the tendency to break down into conservative and
liberal tribes. Specifically, he said: “America understands
the church as the body of Christ, not as the body politic. Liberal,
conservative, moderate are words that describe factions in a polis, not members of a communion.” During the Fortnight
for Freedom, when partisan bickering is likely to be high in the Church, go up
to a conservative Catholic and tell her that you appreciate her contribution to
the body of Christ. (Just don’t hug her during the sign of peace at
Mass. Conservatives don’t like that!)
Tell our secular friends what we’re doing. Yes, the Lord did warn against telling people when we pray and fast,
but I think He would understand if we bend that rule here. (After all, we’re
liberal Catholics; we love bending rules!)
If conservatives have a tendency to think their
Catholicism supports their politics, then we liberals tend to compartmentalize
our spiritual life away from our secular life. That’s not a healthy impulse.
The Fortnight for Freedom provides an opportunity to remind secular liberals
(and ourselves!) that we are not Christians despite our liberalism: we are
liberals because of our Christianity.
This is my challenge to liberal Catholics, both
those more and less liberal than I am. That goes for orthodox Catholics who
happen to like the welfare state, birth-control-using Catholics, pro-choice
Catholics, Spirit of Vatican II Catholics, gay-rights-supporting Catholics, and
even Catholics who miss singing Marty Haugen songs at Mass. During the
Fortnight for Freedom, bite the bullet and participate. Remind yourself that
the Church is bigger than your own view of it — and so is the action of God in
the world. You may experience God in a new way.
In doing this, remember that the goal of any
regimen of prayer and fasting isn’t to achieve a political end — whether ours
or the Bishops’. The goal is to realize by grace the self-revelation of God in
Jesus Christ. Any liberalism not rooted in that self-revelation isn’t a
liberalism worth having.
Monday, June 3, 2013
Luke 9
Jesus spoke to the crowds about the kingdom of God,
and he healed those who needed to be cured.
As the day was drawing to a close,
the Twelve approached him and said,
"Dismiss the crowd
so that they can go to the surrounding villages and farms
and find lodging and provisions;
for we are in a deserted place here."
(Refer the hungry, Lord, to Catholic Charities or the Food Bank.
Tell the homeless to go to the Day Center.
Tell the broken-hearted and lonely to get a therapist.)
He said to them, "Give them some food yourselves."
They replied, "Five loaves and two fish are all we have,
unless we ourselves go and buy food for all these people."
(Lord, make them take a drug test before we spend our money on them. Are you sure they aren't criminals or scam artists? What if they sell the food and buy drugs? This really is not my calling. I have a job and a family and I am really really busy. Besides, this is why I donate money to charities and pay taxes. I barely have enough to feed myself and my own family and I don't really trust you completely to take care of me.)
Now the men there numbered about five thousand.
( There are so many Lord. What is the point? Nothing is going to change.
They are just going to be hungry again later. And if we feed them ourselves than they won't ever learn to be self sufficiant. They will expect us to feed them every time they are hungry. Where do I even begin?)
Then he said to his disciples,
"Have them sit down in groups of about fifty."
They did so and made them all sit down.
Then taking the five loaves and the two fish,
and looking up to heaven,
he said the blessing over them, broke them,
and gave them to the disciples to set before the crowd.
They all ate and were satisfied.
And when the leftover fragments were picked up,
they filled twelve wicker baskets
(ora et labora)
and he healed those who needed to be cured.
As the day was drawing to a close,
the Twelve approached him and said,
"Dismiss the crowd
so that they can go to the surrounding villages and farms
and find lodging and provisions;
for we are in a deserted place here."
(Refer the hungry, Lord, to Catholic Charities or the Food Bank.
Tell the homeless to go to the Day Center.
Tell the broken-hearted and lonely to get a therapist.)
He said to them, "Give them some food yourselves."
They replied, "Five loaves and two fish are all we have,
unless we ourselves go and buy food for all these people."
(Lord, make them take a drug test before we spend our money on them. Are you sure they aren't criminals or scam artists? What if they sell the food and buy drugs? This really is not my calling. I have a job and a family and I am really really busy. Besides, this is why I donate money to charities and pay taxes. I barely have enough to feed myself and my own family and I don't really trust you completely to take care of me.)
Now the men there numbered about five thousand.
( There are so many Lord. What is the point? Nothing is going to change.
They are just going to be hungry again later. And if we feed them ourselves than they won't ever learn to be self sufficiant. They will expect us to feed them every time they are hungry. Where do I even begin?)
Then he said to his disciples,
"Have them sit down in groups of about fifty."
They did so and made them all sit down.
Then taking the five loaves and the two fish,
and looking up to heaven,
he said the blessing over them, broke them,
and gave them to the disciples to set before the crowd.
They all ate and were satisfied.
And when the leftover fragments were picked up,
they filled twelve wicker baskets
(ora et labora)
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
The Last One To Know.
I have always been an Old Testament-kind-of-girl. I guess when you are raised in chaos and neglect you can either choose to believe that God doesn't exist or you can believe that God is hiding behind every corner, just waiting to squash you like a bug. I chose the latter.
My dad took me to church. He prayed with me in the mornings before school and he told me that Jesus loves me. But any tiny bit of faith I had, any moment of obedience or confession was drawn from a place of duty. I feared God. He created the world and could destroy mine. I pleaded with Him desperately to forgive me and to save me. I lived in terror that I would be found an unprofitable servant. Once someone told me that my faith was probably a mental illness, like anxiety or schizophrenia.
As an OT girl, I love Lent. Bring on the punishments I deserve! This past Lent was delightfully excruciating. Just as Tulsa Catholic Worker was beginning to see some formation and community, I was becoming disgusted with its failure. Well, my failure. My fellow CW's would agree, I am sure, that I was, indeed, pretty schizophrenic. Every day I was quitting or cancelling or restarting.
Then God came.
I was standing in line for confession (never reconciliation, cuz I am Old Testament :). Off topic, that is a weird line, isn't it? Standing, waiting with everyone else to confess the deepest and the darkest. Just an awkward thing to be standing in line for.
But there I was in line, mentally having a bit of a stand-off with the Almighty. It sounded a little bit like, "What do you want from me? I have tried everything. I have done this..and that..and remember that other thing that I did? There must be some unconfessed sin that I can't see. Something horrible that I have done or not done and should have wanted to do that I didn't. What do I need to do for You?" My soul was so sad and so heavy. Poor me.
I don't remember anything that the priest said to me that evening in confession because God was using that time, when I finally had to shut my mouth, to change my life. I'll never be able to put it into words, because there aren't any, but this is as close as I can get.
I was a crying, blubbering mess, guilty of my sins and feeling the weight of my horrible-ness. All of a sudden and quite unexpectedly, over my entire self settled a warm, blanket of grace and into my soul came a word-less message from Heaven of His eternal, everlasting and all encompassing love. Something like, "Don't you see that I love you? Pray to me, read your bible, spend time with Me, because I love you. You ask me what I want? I. Want. You."
Then it got a little weird for anyone around me because I started laughing uncontrollably as I finally allowed my mind to wrap around this concept. God loves me. HE loves ME. Isn't that strange and incredible? And wonderful??!?!?!!
He loves me. And He loves you. And He loves all of us. Thank God.
My dad took me to church. He prayed with me in the mornings before school and he told me that Jesus loves me. But any tiny bit of faith I had, any moment of obedience or confession was drawn from a place of duty. I feared God. He created the world and could destroy mine. I pleaded with Him desperately to forgive me and to save me. I lived in terror that I would be found an unprofitable servant. Once someone told me that my faith was probably a mental illness, like anxiety or schizophrenia.
As an OT girl, I love Lent. Bring on the punishments I deserve! This past Lent was delightfully excruciating. Just as Tulsa Catholic Worker was beginning to see some formation and community, I was becoming disgusted with its failure. Well, my failure. My fellow CW's would agree, I am sure, that I was, indeed, pretty schizophrenic. Every day I was quitting or cancelling or restarting.
Then God came.
I was standing in line for confession (never reconciliation, cuz I am Old Testament :). Off topic, that is a weird line, isn't it? Standing, waiting with everyone else to confess the deepest and the darkest. Just an awkward thing to be standing in line for.
But there I was in line, mentally having a bit of a stand-off with the Almighty. It sounded a little bit like, "What do you want from me? I have tried everything. I have done this..and that..and remember that other thing that I did? There must be some unconfessed sin that I can't see. Something horrible that I have done or not done and should have wanted to do that I didn't. What do I need to do for You?" My soul was so sad and so heavy. Poor me.
I don't remember anything that the priest said to me that evening in confession because God was using that time, when I finally had to shut my mouth, to change my life. I'll never be able to put it into words, because there aren't any, but this is as close as I can get.
I was a crying, blubbering mess, guilty of my sins and feeling the weight of my horrible-ness. All of a sudden and quite unexpectedly, over my entire self settled a warm, blanket of grace and into my soul came a word-less message from Heaven of His eternal, everlasting and all encompassing love. Something like, "Don't you see that I love you? Pray to me, read your bible, spend time with Me, because I love you. You ask me what I want? I. Want. You."
Then it got a little weird for anyone around me because I started laughing uncontrollably as I finally allowed my mind to wrap around this concept. God loves me. HE loves ME. Isn't that strange and incredible? And wonderful??!?!?!!
He loves me. And He loves you. And He loves all of us. Thank God.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Salvation in an Age of Child Abuse- By Charles D. Beard
A friend of mine recently was given eight consecutive life sentences.
He was basically told to rot in prison until he died. As the prosecutor put it: “We should make sure he never, ever sees outside a prison cell again.” In response to my friend’s desire to become a Christian minister, the judge said, “You can minister, but you’re going to do it from the inside of a cell.”
My friend’s attorney asked that the life sentences be arranged in such a way that there is the possibility that he could theoretically get paroled in 75 years, at the age of 112. The judge thought even that was too short a term; the request was denied.
A couple of weeks later, my friend asked to withdraw his guilty plea, claiming that he had been denied right to counsel. The lawyers battled it out for the better part of an hour, questioning four witnesses, including my friend. The judge gave his ruling with an anti-climactic “I’ll deny it.” My friend was dispatched back to jail.
I recount this not to besmirch the criminal justice system, though Lord knows it isn’t perfect. I agree with the rulings. My friend richly deserves every day in jail he received. One life sentence isn’t enough. What he did was absolutely beyond the pale; it was so terrible even other criminals don’t want anything to do with men like him.
My friend sexually abused his own daughter.
I trusted this man implicitly. His number was on the emergency call list that my kids had in case something bad happened. We sent the children to his house at least weekly. I’ve fed his children meals, sent them to the corner, and was generally a good friend. I was glad that our families were close enough that we could trust each other with our children.
By all rights, I should hate this man. But I don’t.
I feel betrayed. I resent having to ask my 11-year-old daughter if he’d ever done anything to her (he didn’t), as well as the tension he’s created in my marriage as my wife wants to become overprotective of the kids. I became almost physically ill at the way he blamed his victim. I was angry when his parents (perhaps understandably) tried to minimize his crimes. Even now, more than a day after his latest hearing, I’m fighting a migraine—my first.
But I can’t hate him.
It would be easier if I could. I visited him in county lockup and listened for half an hour to him blather on about how he’s rediscovered God and going to jail in the fulfillment of a lifelong plan God has had for him to minister to bad guys. The worst part was when he told me that he read the story of Joseph and Potiphar in the Bible—and was convinced by it that he would only be in jail for two years. After I left, I vented to a mutual friend since my wife is so distressed by this that I shouldn’t vent to her. But I was so shaken that when I got home I vented to her anyway.
Part of the reason I can’t hate him is the fact that what he did is totally incongruous with my good friend and neighbor. Slightly annoying know-it-alls you spend New Year’s Eve with don’t hurt their children. Guys who are so bad with money you let him mow your yard for 20 bucks every other week don’t hurt their children.
When I think of my friend, I mostly think of the slightly annoying know-it-all, not the monster. As a result, most of what I’ve felt has been a sort of disgusted calm.
I saw him at his sentencing hearing. He looked like the man I’d always known: calm and unshaven. He could just as easily been pushing his mower across my yard. We weren’t allowed to talk to the prisoners in the courtroom, so I prayed.
I prayed and meditated. I didn’t know what else to do.
My stomach turned because in my prayer, I got a mental image of what he did to his poor daughter.
Growing up Catholic, I was only rarely bothered by the Problem of Evil. I never agreed with C.S. Lewis when he said that the Problem of Evil is only a problem after you become a Christian. St. Augustine said that a good God is so good that He can bring good even out of evil, and that idea has always worked for me. The goodness of God is such that He can turn evil actions inside out.
As an adult, this belief bore fruit in the realization that Jesus Christ identifies with helpless victims. When He died on the cross, He was a helpless victim too. We do not have a God “who is unable to sympathize” with us. When we are harmed unjustly—God is there suffering with us.
This belief even allows us to participate in our own salvation. St. Paul tells us,“I rejoice in my sufferings for by my sufferings I fulfill what was lacking in the sufferings of Christ.”
Unjust suffering, in other words, can make us godlike. When this poor girl was being hurt, God was allowing Himself to be hurt alongside her. This is radical identification with the innocent.
The idea that God would degrade Himself in this way may be scandalous to some—or even blasphemous. But I have always taken it for granted.
I couldn’t get this mental image out of my head while I was meditating, but the idea that God suffered with this little girl provided a measure of comfort.
But the next thought was horrifying.
Christ identified with the perpetrator as well—my friend, my annoying neighbor, this monster.
St. Paul says elsewhere, “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us.” That’s supposed to be comforting, but at the time it was like ice water in my veins. I’m comfortable—maybe too comfortable—with worshipping a God who identifies with victims. But I want no part of a God who also identifies with evil men. The very idea is revolting.
But that’s the foundational idea of Christianity.
Maybe I have a constitution that makes me better than most at compartmentalizing the evil deeds of people I like. That’s probably the origin of the smug superiority I sometimes feel toward “tough-on-crime” types. But Christianity demands that I go further. It requires me to look in the eyes of my friend and see—not a friend, not a neighbor, not a monster—but Jesus Christ.
I can’t do that. It would be easier to hate him
.
I bristled when speaking with the Protestant former prison chaplain. He preached at me over the phone until my cell battery died. He said, “Jesus already paid it all! And our friend knows God and has already gotten his forgiveness.” I wanted to scream at him, “Don’t you know what this man did?! How can God forgive this?”
Not that I haven’t tried to see Christ in my friend. I recently got irritated with my parents. When I told them that I was visiting my friend in jail, they called it an “act of charity.” It’s not an act of charity, I thought. It’s an act of justice. I was going to the jail to visit Jesus Christ. Doesn’t Jesus deserve to be visited?
But even then—I was thinking selfishly, like I was doing something heroic by visiting him. I wasn’t. Visiting him is an acknowledgement that I’m weak too. The only thing that separates him from me is the fact that the sins I want to commit aren’t as bad. My sins are socially acceptable, maybe even socially praiseworthy.
My sexual appetites are normal, but that doesn’t make me better than my friend. It just makes me lucky.
If I wrote off my friend and mentally consigned him to hell, I would be no better than he. I would be treating someone as something other than the sacred image of God—just like he did.
If there is no hope for him, then salvation is determined by luck of the draw on what you’re tempted to do. There is no justice in that.
So I must look at my friend—this vile human being—and see Jesus Christ. I can’t do that yet.
But I can’t hate him either. His hope is my hope. His hope is his victim’s hope. God—in His cruel love—has put all of us in this process together.
And just when I want to turn that realization into hatred of God Himself, I remember that He’s here too—struggling and suffering to figure it out with us.
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