Thursday, March 8, 2012

Cross-shaped Activism

Bread Line
As the 2012 election season gets underway, we Americans, once again, find ourselves facing several major decisions. Up for discussion are brewing tensions with Iran, our nation’s handling of the environment, the economy, abortion, and our country’s treatment of its poor and sick. At stake, are matters of dignity, justice, responsibility, stewardship, and compassion, to name a few. That said, if there’s anything I haven’t the time or energy for it’s another discussion of these matters along typical, partisan lines. Contrary to the media’s framing of these things, I know no one who sees the standard left/right divisions as helpful or effective as means of problem solving. The reduction of issues to two-sided, binaries leaves no place for complexity, flexibility, or thoughtfulness. For us to have any hope of mending these wounds and the rifts they have created, we must break free from such thinking to embrace creative, multidimensional, and loving efforts to cultivate justice. 

Fortunately, for Christians, our faith provides us not only with a rich tradition of theological and ethical discourse to help sort through these issues, but also with an impressive array of saints, past and present, from which to draw inspiration. Believing these resources to be valuable for escaping our culture’s dualistic tendencies, my aim here will be to explore a uniquely Christian means for engaging social and political ills, in hopes of finding helpful avenues that will help as I and other Christians struggle to follow Christ and usher in a world transformed by God’s goodness. Because an endless number of voices and lives could be brought into this conversation, I have chosen to narrow my focus, considering only Pope Benedict XVI’s encyclical entitled, Caritas in Veritate, alongside the courageously compassionate lived example of Dorothy Day.
       

When considering how best to properly address sociopolitical matters, rarely do we hear coverage of these complex challenges exceeding the depth of bumper-sticker-like sloganeering. It’s not uncommon to hear social-critiques and comedians lambasting our nation for its shallowness and lack of forethought. To some, this trend is seen as an outgrowth of today’s largely-secular, postmodern ethos, which distrusts certainty and questions all values as relative to the eye of the beholder. This view argues that, if there is no such thing as “God” or “truth,” there also must not be such thing as a foundational “good” from which to base our actions. Pope Benedict XVI pushes back against this saying, “Without God man neither knows which way to go, nor even understands who he is.”[1] He sees truth as most evident in the person of Jesus, whose life provides a revelatory window into the nature of God.[2] From Jesus’ life and teachings, Benedict extracts a description of God’s nature as “love” adding that, “Everything has its origin in God’s love, everything is shaped by it, everything is directed towards it.”[3] At first glance, this might sound like a fluffy feel-good statement that could easily be brushed aside, but actually, it captures the very essence of Christianity’s understanding of what it means to be both human and creatures of God. Finding our very being in God’s overabundant outpouring of love, we, as made in God’s image, are called upon to embody that same love, sharing it with one another and, ultimately, returning that love to God. It is from this theological premise that we as Christians (and those willing to consider any wisdom Christianity has to offer) can begin to explore how God wills for us to handle social ills like poverty, violence, oppression, and other self-inflicted humanly wounds. 


Here, it is helpful to consider the lives and examples of inspiring, dedicated Christians from ages passed. One such exemplar is Dorothy Day, whose work in the early 1900’s brought about the establishment of hundreds of Catholic Worker groups who run soup kitchens, houses of hospitality, and other endeavors serving the impoverished, outcast, and downtrodden. One year, one of these houses of hospitality gave out 460,000 meals and 18,250 nights lodging, alone![4] Dorothy’s inspiration came from the life and message of Jesus Christ—most notably from the words of Matthew 25:31-46 and in the Sermon on the Mount.[5] She saw these passages as the clearest path for obeying the two commandments Jesus identified as greatest:  Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind and love your neighbor as yourself.[6] Dorothy strove to embody these words by seeing Christ in people she encountered day after day.[7] This highlights a key ideological difference underpinning her rationale for serving those in need and the motivations propelling more conventional political/labor groups. 


Whereas groups like the AFL and CIO sought change on the basis of “enlightened self-interest,” Dorothy’s motivation sprang from religious zeal to follow Christ’s example, feeding the hungry, healing the sick, and generally trying to uplift the downtrodden.[8] She recognized the presence of the Holy in those she met. For instance, Dorothy believed such a vision of others was the only effective means for convince the wealthy not to treat their workers as chattel, but with respect, honor, and due pay.[9] In her writings, we see the inner yearnings a person continually working to remind herself that people are never just mouths to feed or bodies to be housed, but creatures of God with bodies and souls. Such reflections brought joys as well as hardships. One time, she took in a homeless man, feed him, gave him a place to stay, and tried to help him find work, only to discover when he left that her valuables had been stolen.[10] In places, she wrestles with what it means to see Christ, not just in the downtrodden, but in the corporate executives and politicians responsible for suffering of others. This facet reveals the communal dimension Dorothy saw as relevant to this endeavor. She recognized not only the inter-related affects of people’s actions, but also the need for accountability this truism in infers. 


Such a claim has broad ramifications when we consider the cost embodying such Christ-like love demands. Whether considering a possible war, making cuts to social safety nets, or our handling of environmental concerns, Christ’s calling for us to care for the least among us requires that we go deeper than our present two-dimensional structure allows. We must discern our dealings with Christ-inspired compassion. If this sounds laborious or grim, fear not. If Pope Benedict XVI’s earlier description of God’s nature as love is true and it is true that humans were created to share in that love, then our task enacting justice via the emulation and embodiment of Christ’s love runs congruent with our created nature and will therefore be experienced as a deep, abiding joy. In fact, Benedict goes as far as to describe this task as our “vocation” and as “planted [in us] by God.”[11] We see evidence of this joy in the hundreds, if not thousands of people who have found inspiration in Dorothy’s work, joining in to contribute where they could. Such a dynamic points to a truth that, whether convincing to today’s postmodern sensibilities or not, has brought about many compelling acts of generosity and enabled much transformation.   


As attested to by Dorothy’s many accomplishments towards these ends, Benedict describes this “love” we are called to be about as, “an extraordinary force which leads people to opt for courageous and generous engagement in the field of justice and peace.”[12] There is a going-the-extra-mile quality to this kind of love that seems contagious. As such, there is an inherently evangelistic component to love’s nature. God’s ever-abundant love spills over to us, which we, in turn, spill onto others—it’s an endless cascade. Love is a sending force, necessitating our action or follow through. It shatters binaries, thin descriptions, and clichéd political jargon. When grounded in the self-giving nature of Christ, which is our truest icon for seeing and knowing the Trinitarian God, love is much more than warm emotion. It is a force that compels us to become our brother’s keepers. If this sounds triumphant or grandiose, let us not forget that Christ’s trajectory ultimately ended in failure. As Dorothy points out, Christ was crucified for his radical behavior. Although we as Christians know of his resurrection and ultimate glorification, taking comfort in the knowledge that, one day, we too will share in this promise, we would be wise to admit the immediate realities making such stands is likely to elicit.   


So, how can Christians can engage the needs of the world while dismissing fallacious premises embedded within our culture’s construal of these matters? We can start by recognizing how things are often framed as either/or, but should, in actuality, be both/and. When politicians describe peace as only possible by way of threatening military force, we can offer another vision. When we are told we cannot simultaneously have a free and prosperous economy and protection from harmful pollutants, we can call into question such assumptions. When the abortion issue is reduced to Pro-Life or Pro-Choice, we can expand the conversation. Like Dorothy, we must challenge ourselves to live into the example set by Christ. We must be willing to “love to the point of folly.”[13] Was Jesus’ instruction to turn the other cheek simply metaphorical? When he says feed the hungry, did he mean only giving our money towards such aims? What about loving our enemies?  Referencing Matthew 25, Dorothy recalls the words of St. John of the Cross who said, “Love is the measure by which we shall be judged.”[14] We are called to recognize Christ in each other and serve each other accordingly. Such acts should spring forth naturally as outgrowths of our love for God. We are to be fools for Christ. Such sacrifices will cost us, as was true for Christ, but these pains will not be met without reward and, ultimately, our glory is found in oneness with God the Father.  


[1] Pope Benedict XVI, Caritas and Veritate, 50.
[2] Pope Benedict XVI, Caritas and Veritate, 2.
[3] Ibid, 2.
[4] Dorothy Day, Dorothy Day: Selected Writings, ed. Robert Ellsberg, (Maryknoll, Orbis Books, 2010), 104.
[5] Dorothy Day, Dorothy Day: Selected Writings, 97.
[6] Matthew 22:37-39
[7] Dorothy Day, Dorothy Day: Selected Writings, 248.
[8] Dorothy Day, Dorothy Day: Selected Writings, 242.
[9] Dorothy Day, Dorothy Day: Selected Writings, 242.
[10] Dorothy Day, Dorothy Day: Selected Writings, 99.
[11] Pope Benedict XVI, Caritas and Veritate, p.2
[12] Pope Benedict XVI, Caritas and Veritate, p.2
[13] Dorothy Day, Dorothy Day: Selected Writings, 99.
[14] Dorothy Day, Dorothy Day: Selected Writings,  265.