I have recently started studying Theology again. In the course of my reading this week I came across an article about Peter Maurin and Dorothy Day. These two, founders of the Catholic Worker Movement, were often accused of being socialists, communists, anarchists, and agitators. What struck me about the article was not that people living 60 and 70 years ago were still using the same labels to incriminate others as they are today (though I did find that fascinating). Rather, I was struck by the simple, dogged determination of two people who, it can be argued, helped change the way that our nation looks at the issue of homelessness and human dignity. What’s more, their mission was not to make everybody become an affiliate of radical ideology bent on destroying society, though this is what they were accused of. Instead, they desired to spread the gospel.

Peter and Dorothy believed that their mission was to give life to the words of scripture. It was one thing for them to express their faith by going to church and receiving the sacraments, but they came to believe that there was a necessary connection between the table around which we celebrate Eucharist, and the table of human fellowship. Their critique was simple – the Church certainly had the goods with regard to doctrine and revelation of the faith. However, many Catholics was sorely lacking in their expression of that faith with regard to the care and concern we give to the poor, or those people that we deem undesirable for whatever reason (lazy, ignorant, immoral, etc.). If Christianity is about finding ways to draw people into communion, then both Dorothy and Peter believed there was a definite rift between words and deeds, and it was their hope to be able to bridge that gap. Thus, the two were about dialogue and resistance. The dialogue occurred between people with differing ideologies both inside and outside of the Church. Resistance was offered against those within the Church who neglected what is now termed the “preferential option for the poor,” and those outside of the Church who supported social structures and ways of life that limited a true expression of human dignity and compassion. Their mission was about care for others and they went to great lengths to embody this care.

While this breakdown is somewhat simplistic, what strikes me about the nature of our faith is that the rituals, dogma and doctrine are all oriented towards drawing us into a deeper relationship with God and, through that experience, into a greater sense of care for our neighbor. Dorothy and Peter were radical, to be sure, but the rationale of their radical deeds was to care for those in need as members of the Body of Christ. They catechized those who were ignorant. They helped people find work and food. They protested injustice and worked, personally, with those that were deemed undesirable. They did use methods that created conflict and agitation, and it is even true that their words were somehow similar to those of the era’s more radical political movements. Similar, though, is hardly the same, especially when one considers that the nature of the “radical ideology” that they professed was not about limiting the human person, but attempting to allow all people to have a sense of the dignity that social connectedness and material security can encourage. While their methods were categorized according to the social theory of the day, these categories were limited because they did not allow for the infinite capacity of God’s Spirit to be at work. After all, it was not only about money and community, but offering all people a sense of shared dignity as children of God. Truly, it was only the Spirit of God that would enable such deeds to be a success.

This leads me to the realization that sharing with others, caring for all people, is a choice. However, as a Christian it is the choice that I am asked to make. If I take seriously the truth that we are all part of the body of Christ, and that Christ is present in all people, I see many ways that I care for people, and ways that people care for me. However, I also see the way I draw lines between myself and others. I see the “other” and I see my desires and I say, “God, I will do this much for that person, but no more.” While some of this is healthy (I do need to eat, sleep, and reflect on experience, etc.) I find that the deeper I go into my understanding of God’s presence in my life, the more I have to consider moving the line. When I draw a line and say “I will do this for you, God, but no more!” I feel God standing just on the other side saying in a gentle way “Just a little further. You need a rest? Sure. When you are ready. But I want you to continue.” This is what I see in Peter, Dorothy, and many, if not all, saints. It is not that they began great, but that they were willing to continue growing. They continued to move the line. And to be honest, their example frightens me. They were radical. However, what made them radical was not just the ideology (which we have all heard in scripture and expressed in prayer a thousand times), but their willingness to act on it in a way that moved them outside of the boundaries they, and culture, had become comfortable with, into a place of deeper union with God.

Photo: “lines in the sand…” by Mateo from Flickr (Used under Creative Commons license)

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