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Experience Faith as a Catapult, not a Cocoon

by Sr. Marilyn Lacey, R.S.M.   Theologians agree that John’s Gospel, having been written by the beloved disciple after decades of reflection, offers unique insight into what it means to follow Jesus. Curious, then, that John’s is the only Gospel which completely omits the institution of Eucharist in the manner cited by Matthew, Mark, and Luke: “This is my body. . .This is my blood.” Instead, John focuses on Jesus’ washing of the disciples’ feet (Jn 13). Jesus makes sure they don’t miss the point: “Do you see what I’ve done? Do you get it? I, your lord and master, have washed your feet . . .” John situates this drama in the context of Jesus’ final meal yet emphasizes his’ servant work rather than his gift of body and blood. Or more accurately, he intimates that the raison d’etre of sacrament is self-emptying rather than adoration. John replaces the synoptics’ “Do this in remembrance of me” with the foot-washing mandate: “As I have done, so you must do.” The twelfth-century poet Rumi—an Islamic Sufi—summed up my understanding of the Last Supper: Become the one who when you walk inLuck shifts to the one who needs it most.Even if you’ve not been fed,Be bread. (Open Secret: Versions of Rumi, 1984) What matters is not that we receive bread, but that we willingly become bread. God’s love enfolds us all, yes. God’s love remains as abundant as it is undeserved, yes. And that same love pushes us out of our comfort zone into the messy work of social justice. Faith may start out as a cocoon for us, a safe place to experience being loved. But if it stays cocooned, it dies. The poet Rainer Maria Rilke expressed it in one simple sentence: “We are held close [by God] and then lavishly flung forth.” Church exists, not as a club with standards for inclusion or exclusion, but as a community that confirms and inspires us all to reach beyond our borders. We celebrate Eucharist together precisely to experience God’s extravagant love which liberates us for laying down our lives for others. That is the impetus for true justice work. The theologian Dorothee Soelle (The Silent Cry: Mysticism and Resistance, 2001) wrote that faith-full lives will mature from amazement to surrender to resistance. Amazement: We are stunned and enthused (en-theo) by a great Love that is unconditional, permanent, prodigal, certain, and utterly inclusive. Surrender: We abandon our certitudes, align ourselves to God’s ways beyond all division and dogma; allow God to purge us of small gods; and welcome both the pain and the promise of conversion. Resistance: Grounded in unshakable belovedness, we can stand against all that is not “of God.” Ministry becomes loving work for justice. The cocoon is long gone. We begin to experience the tender fierceness of the catapult. Once God has captivated our hearts, we are ruined for anything less. We are flung forth into the world with newly-upside-down Beatitude values, a total reordering of who matters: the least among us. We resist what is not “of God” meaning, let’s face it, we choose to stand against much of what our society holds dear. This is the work of social justice. We challenge all forms of injustice: violence, racism, militarism, consumerism, colonialism (are you old enough to have bought pagan babies?). We refuse to limit the growing circle of our concern. We find ourselves inexplicably drawn to the margins, where life is tenuous and fragile and people may feel unlovable. Why? Because that is where God dwells. We recognize kinship everywhere. We wash feet. We take risks. We cross all sorts of borders: working for right relationships; welcoming strangers near and far; learning from someone else’s culture and worldview; sharing time and resources with those who are not of our tribe or persuasion; calling out and dismantling structural sins of inequality and oppression; and edging toward margins where we meet the homeless, the addicted, the ill, the trafficked, the migrant or refugee or displaced. In such encounters we discover, much to our astonishment, that we meet God, the ultimate Other. My work with Mercy Beyond Borders constantly confronts me with such blessings. I say confronts, because blessings are not always easy or sweet. MBB works with destitute women and girls in rural South Sudan and Malawi, in the refugee camps of Uganda and Kenya, and in the mountains of Haiti. I am challenged to resist oppression without resorting to violence. When I see girls aren’t in school because their families can’t afford tuition, I am tempted to despair at persistent global inequities. Instead, MBB offers scholarships to girls. When I see cultures that force young girls into marriage even before puberty, I want to scream. Instead, MBB sets up radio programs in which the girls themselves promote gender equality and the benefits of educating all. When I see elected leaders growing fat from corruption and armed conflict, I feel almost overwhelmed. Instead, MBB trains its university alumnae in advocacy, knowing that they will in time bring positive voices and fresh wisdom to governance. When I see widows impoverished by Levirate traditions that strip them of home and possessions, I feel like attacking the male relatives who control them. Instead, MBB provides small-business training and loans so that these widows can rebuild their lives with dignity. MBB’s work is difficult, dangerous, and not always successful. Never mind. As Martin Buber reminds us, “Success is not a name of God.” We follow the Crucified One who breaks down barriers and draws all things to himself. We believe in the day when “mercy and justice shall kiss” (Psalm 85:11). We work toward that day, singing with Rumi: Let the beauty we loveBe what we do.There are many ways to kneelAnd kiss the ground. Download this article as a PDF here.

The Poor Find Love in the Full of Grace Café

by Fr. Joshua Johnson  It was Tuesday afternoon and Mrs. Christine realized she needed to pick up some groceries for her family. Once she finalized her shopping list, she picked up her grandson and made her way to the local supermarket. As she and her young grandson waited in line at the checkout counter, she noticed a woman and toddler not too far in the distance. After she finished paying for her groceries, she approached the woman who appeared to be homeless. She was barefoot, her clothes looked like they hadn’t been washed in weeks and she had a look of desperation on her face. Mrs. Christine politely introduced herself to the woman, engaging her in a casual conversation—a daily event for many, if not most, who reside in the deep south. Eventually, Mrs. Christine went from exchanging initial pleasantries to talking to the woman about what she envisioned sharing with her as she stood in the checkout line. She said, “Ma’am, I don’t want to intrude in your life, but I am a member of Our Lady of the Holy Rosary Catholic Church. We have a ministry called the Full of Grace Café. Our café has a coffee shop, hair salon, diaper bank, food pantry, counselors, lawyers, and we even cook meals throughout the week so we can gather for fellowship. I know this may sound odd, but would you like to accompany my grandson and me to the cafe? We are on the way there right now.” The young woman informed Mrs. Christine that she didn’t have a car so it would be difficult for her to meet them. Without missing a beat, Mrs. Christine said, “No problem, my car is big enough for all of us! Would you mind if I drove the four of us?” The woman consented and a few minutes later they pulled into the parking lot at Our Lady of the Holy Rosary. As they approached the Full of Grace Café, the lay disciples working in the food pantry opened the front doors smiling and welcomed Mrs. Christine and her new friends. After sitting down with the woman and her toddler and listening to her story over coffee, volunteers offered her a meal, groceries from the pantry, and diapers for her child. They informed her that the barber was on his way in case she was interested in having their hair groomed. Mrs. Christine then invited her to be a part of the community through one of our small-group bible studies. After explaining the fruits they’ve witnessed because of our bible studies, they shared our Mass schedule and encouraged her to join us for worship. Before she left, they asked her, “Can we pray with you?” She consented and a group of women surrounded their new sister in a circle and began to pray for her and with her. Another parishioner, Celeste, walked in the Full of Grace Café and noticed a group of people praying so she dropped everything she was carrying and joined her fellow parishioners in spontaneous prayer. Celeste experienced a profound conversion at the parish through her participation in retreats, bible studies, and Mass. In addition to prioritizing these community gatherings, she was also very intentional about the time she spent each morning with Jesus in prayer. That morning, her prayer was focused on the feet of Christ. As she prayed, she opened her eyes, looking to the ground and noticed a woman’s bare feet. After the ladies concluded their prayer, Celeste asked the woman in the middle of the circle about the size of her feet. To her amazement, the woman’s feet were the same size as her feet. She offered the woman her socks and shoes. The woman began to weep. They all embraced each other and welcomed their new sister in Christ! In my experience as a priest and a pastor, I have witnessed many disciples of Jesus Christ manifest a profound and reverent love for Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. At the same time, I have also witnessed disciples of Jesus Christ walk out of Adoration chapels and completely ignore the presence of Christ in the poor. In prayer, I perceived our Lord tell me that he wanted to be loved in the Eucharist and in the poor. This is one of the reasons my team and I collaborated to establish the café in the front of our campus. We wanted it to be clear that the priority of our parish is worship of God at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and friendship with the poorest of the poor in our community. In addition to many other experiences which have already been documented in blogs and articles about the founding of the Full of Grace Café, at the core—the reason why my team and I worked so hard to make this sacred place a reality almost two years ago—was to console the heart of Jesus and quench his thirst for charity and justice. I can honestly say from the depths of my heart the community which I have been blessed to walk with in this small bayou town are a group of intentional disciples who seek out the face of Christ in the Eucharist, the Scriptures, and in the poorest of the poor. Download this article as a PDF here.

Bringing Christ to the Homeless

by Kathryn Jean Lopez  The first time I ventured out in Manhattan after the Coronavirus shutdown was in mid-May. I saw men glaring at me—glaring and grunting. They were dazed and confused and angry. I was in New York’s Penn Station and you didn’t even have to hit the sidewalk to be hollered at. It was dark inside and everyone, except a few homeless men, was walking around with facemasks. The first man who stopped me seemed furious when he asked for money and I offered him a fresh sandwich instead. I typically have money ready for such requests, but I didn’t know what was in my purse besides books since this was my first real venture out since sometime in early Lent. The man seemed to grunt in his anger, swaying his arms as if in an argument with a demon. I don’t know if I mean that quite literally, but my heart ached for him. And I honestly didn’t know what to do other than try to smile and pray for him. Then I realized he couldn’t even see the smile because of the face mask. I didn’t feed him or give him what he asked for, but I did pray for him and I am again. Is that sometimes all you can do? And maybe remind one another we can try again. We must love, even in these intimidating situations. I’ll confess in that situation in New York City—and during a second incident in Washington, D.C.—I was uneasy. Back in the old “normal” days, I was not that way because there were typically more people around. The first man who came up to me in Union Station seemed severely drugged. I noticed that outside the station pigeons were working on a pizza. Who would cast aside a pizza any day, but especially these days? A taxi driver explained to me that a man had walked by with a pizza and when he was asked for money, offered the pizza instead. The recipient took the pizza, and once the man was out of view, threw it on the ground without taking a bite. So really, what do you do in these situations? You love however best you can. Once the quarantine began, I couldn’t—for a long time—get Patrick, Will, and Tabby off my mind. I’ve met Tabby’s husband, too. I think his name is Todd. They are all regulars on my walk from Mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral to the National Review. (At least they were, when we could go to Mass, in the pre-Coronavirus-shutdown days.) The last time I talked with Patrick was right before social distancing became a thing. He gave me a hug after our conversation. What would people do if they saw such a sight these days? Previously anything goes in New York City. Patrick told me he felt called to sit by St. Patrick’s for obvious reasons. He told me food wasn’t really a problem most days; a safe place to sleep and a shower were the real issues. He told me he might have a fighting chance with those things. We talked about Catholic Charities and the Missionaries of Charity. Patrick knew exactly what I was talking about and where to find them. He even said he had heard good things about the organizations. But something was holding him back. I prayed that whatever it was might be lifted. Will always seems to have a book with him, surrounded by pigeons. I like to pray that St. Francis intercedes asking for whatever miracle of God Will needs. Tabby always accepts whatever paltry offering I have. Even when it is a squashed, raspberry, gluten-free fig bar, she tells me “they are the best kind” or “you know I love those.” I have no idea where any of those people are today. At first, I wondered who was helping them? Who was talking with them? Who was loving them? Have they avoided Coronavirus? Jesus knows; Jesus loves; and Jesus seeks and protects. Maybe not from Coronavirus. I try to post on social media when I meet new people and I especially ask for prayers. I sometimes explain to the person I encounter on the street that I am doing that and frequently that person is moved. There are men who curse you for your imperfect offering and for your awkward love, but there are others who thank you and bless you and show you Christ. I see Christ on the streets, even in the men who look so distraught and drugged out. There is an innocent child in there who was wronged and overwhelmed by the world, who was poisoned by the evil that men do. Sometimes it’s a joy in the midst of his circumstances. Sometimes I find myself crying with Dorothy Day, as she often did for the misery she couldn’t cure. She did so much more than I do, but I sometimes ask her to intercede so that the eyes of Christ’s heart might show me his healing hand, even just for a moment. A KIND bar isn’t going to change a life, but I’m also not the Savior. See your brother and encounter him with love. Bring his aching heart to the Sacred Heart. Sometimes that’s all we can do. Sometimes that’s all we’re called to do. Download this article as a PDF here.

People Loving People: Answering the Call of Mater et Magistra

by Katie Prejean McGrady  Almost sixty years ago, Pope John XXIII issued Mater et Magistra, that made a bold claim about the role of the Church as mother and teacher of all nations: “… though the Church’s first care must be for souls, how she can sanctify them and make them share in the gifts of heaven, she concerns herself too with the exigencies of man’s daily life, with his livelihood and education, and his general, temporal welfare and prosperity.” This document from the man known as “the happy pope” set a precedent, one that carried through the documents of the Second Vatican Council and into the life of the Church globally, prompting numerous men and women, religious communities, priests, and parishes to pick up the work of caring for, serving, and attending to the needs of the poor and marginalized. In 2020, that work continues around the world and people often ask how they can help when they hear about good work being done to care for the poor, attend to the sick, fight for the dignity of human life, and preach the Gospel to those most in need. There is remarkable work being done across the United States to attend to the corporal and spiritual needs of so many. In St. John’s Parish in Pittston, Pennsylvania, had to close its parochial school. It was merged with another diocesan school and the building on the parish’s property remained empty for some time. After creative planning and with help from donors and community members, St. John’s began to use the three-story building to house a food pantry, free health clinic with pediatric care, a kid’s clothes closet, and a toy and book corner. Every Wednesday of the month, the Care and Concerns Ministry throws open the doors of the repurposed school building and serves the community. If you drive through Lake Charles, Louisiana, and happen to pass a Catholic parish, you’re likely to see a sign with an image of “Madonna of the Streets” with the words: “Pregnant? Need Help?” A phone number is printed on the bottom, directing women to the Gabriel Project, a nonprofit pro-life ministry located in twenty-six states and hundreds of parishes across the country. With a focus on helping women find the practical resources they need when faced with an unplanned pregnancy, the Gabriel Project is uniquely housed within parish communities. Coordinators of the project are connected to pregnant mothers and fathers who need referrals for housing, medical care, counseling, adoption information, maternity clothing, baby supplies, and all manner of things a pregnant woman might need. Through friendship, encouragement, and emotional and spiritual support, the Gabriel Project groups are designed to help women in need by ensuring they will be walked with and cared for during pregnancy and as they raise their child. Jonathan Reyes founded Christ in the City in Denver, Colorado, to connect with people struggling with homelessness, poverty, addiction, and isolation. With fifteen young people joining him, in 2011 Reyes began forming teams of missionaries to learn the faith, live in community, and serve the poor. By spending time with the homeless, Christ in the City creates a culture of encounter, learning the names, stories, and struggles of the men and women they meet, and providing aid to help bring them out of homelessness. Young adults between the ages of 18 and 27 sign up for a year of service to live together in Denver and build relationships with men and women in need. It's not just about handing out money or leading people to a shelter; the volunteers first address homelessness by loving the men and women experiencing it. The good work being done in parishes and organizations is inspiring. Each uniquely answers the call of Mater et Magistra, to care for the temporal needs of people, as well as care for their souls. Download this article as a PDF here.

The Catholic Church is a Field Hospital for Divine Love

by Rev. Kevin Sandberg, C.S.C.  There’s no more meaningful time to talk about putting faith into action than the present moment—the COVID-19 pandemic. Any crisis can test our faith. This crisis does so in degrees we’ve not experienced in generations. As unemployment reaches depression-era levels, livelihoods have been upended. Even more significantly, hundreds of thousands of lives have been lost worldwide. All in the span of less than six months. People of faith are used to springing into action when life is threatened. We refer to this response as charity or justice; love is the wellspring of both. Each of us is called to one form or another of these responses based on our talents and our circumstances. But to prevent the spread of the virus, most all of us have been told to refrain from interacting with one another. The message has been as straightforward as #StayHome to help save lives. What are we to do? Though it makes sense in the context of coronavirus, staying home doesn’t look much like Jesus going here and there to heal the sick, touch the leper, give sight to the blind, not to mention raise the dead. For the follower of Christ, even passive action should feel a little uncomfortable. If we aren’t uncomfortable with that, then perhaps our faith is at present more an idea in our head than a heart filled with the Spirit. This happens to us every once in a while—our faith slips into inaction, even action that has adverse effects on others. That’s why we know it is important to be reminded of the example provided by the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). That’s why it makes sense that scripture otherwise reminds us to “be doers of the word and not hearers only” (James 1:26). Every once in a while, we need to be reminded of Jesus’ command to love one another as he loved us (John 13:34). The pandemic might be just such a moment to contemplate what that could look like on a society-wide basis. Fortunately, if we’re unsure about how faith includes action, or even if we are skeptical that faith requires action, Pope Francis has provided us with a metaphor that fits the times in which we find ourselves. The metaphor is that of the Church as a field hospital. In the first year of his pontificate, the Holy Father said, “The thing the Church needs most today is the ability to heal wounds and to warm the hearts of the faithful. . . . I see the Church as a field hospital after battle. It is useless to ask a seriously injured person if he has high cholesterol and about the level of his blood sugars! You have to heal his wounds. Then we can talk about everything else.” As the vessel of faith, the Church is necessarily a place of action, not just worship —actions that heal, reconcile, and transform individuals and society through service and education. Though the field hospital metaphor isn’t addressed specifically to the present pandemic—as a place where people congregate close to one another, the Church has had to play its part in slowing the spread of coronavirus—it comes as a correction to what the Church had been focused on. Unfortunately, the tender healing touch of Jesus, at least in the view of Pope Francis, was no longer at the forefront of the Church’s activity. Why might this have happened? The Church, Pope Francis is afraid, has for too long perceived itself as one of the wounded, especially as a victim of secularization. Secularization is the process by which society tacitly discourages faith, granting it license to be practiced only in private. In this rejection of faith, the action, or good works, that demonstrate and bolster faith can suffer setback. It seems only fair to recognize, too, that in the face of secularization the Church has suffered a wound to its ego. Its bishops, after all, were once power brokers across the great cities of civilization. And it’s possible, too, that the Church, when it has turned inward to nurse that wound, has neglected to communicate that the heart of its mission is to serve the wounded, the lost, and the forsaken. The Church may have also forgotten the witness of the first followers of Jesus in this mission. In the Acts of the Apostles, for instance, we see the post-Resurrection disciples assailed by authorities just as Jesus was. Against threats of persecution and expulsion from their communities of origin, they persist to offer healing and welcome as they saw Christ do and as he had done for them. To the crippled man at the Beautiful Gate of the temple, Peter says, “I have no silver or gold, but what I have I give you; in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, stand up and walk. And he took him by the right hand and raised him up; and immediately his feet and ankles were made strong” (Acts 3: 6-7). Martin Luther King Jr. made a similar argument to that of early believers—at the cost of his life. Clergy in Birmingham, Alabama, including a Catholic bishop, had judged the civil rights marches he was leading to be, as they put it, “unwise and untimely.” In his famous 1963 “Letter from Birmingham Jail,” King replied that he was not only following the law of God, which superseded the law of man, but he was also doing what the Church had always done. He called this being “thermostatic.” The Church, King argues, was not historically a “thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opinion; it was a thermostat that transformed the mores of society.” A thermometer simply reads the temperature. It doesn’t react to the data; it just reports it. A thermostat, on the other hand, makes the adjustments necessary to the temperature to bring about a new condition, one in conformity with the demands of the gospel. To the point of putting faith into action, the Roman Catholic Church has been particularly thermostatic since the end of the nineteenth century through Catholic social teaching, a symbol of faith ready to be put into action. St. Pope Paul VI described it as the Church’s inspiration to action for social justice. It’s the teaching that stands behind countless efforts at social regeneration, from a parish’s local St. Vincent de Paul ministry, that provides person-to-person opportunities to assist people in need, to diocesan Catholic Charities and the Catholic Campaign for Human Development. The propensity to identify with people in situations of need exists not because our own situation is similar to theirs, but because we realize the dignity under threat is a dignity in which we participate. It deserves as much protection as our own. Since our empathies place demands on our hearts, they beg for a fuller accounting. We want to know their origins and their trajectories—not just what upsets us, what concerns us most, and what injustices are especially disconcerting to us, but why and what we can do about them. We want to know why our empathies upend our value system, shake us from our complacency, and set our lives in motion. Jesus has been described as the empathy of God. When we see Jesus in action—for example, feeding the multitudes in a deserted place even when the disciples would send them away (Mt. 14:16)—we see the empathy of God for us. In Jesus, we see that God has been moved to act on our behalf. For our part, Pope Francis sums this up nicely. He says, “You pray for the hungry. Then you feed them. That’s how prayer works.” And that’s how divine love works. Simply put, it acts on love, in love, and through love. The Pope might just as easily have said, “You care that people are not injured in battle. When they are, you open a field hospital to care for the wounded. Because that’s how the Father works, that’s how the Church and faith work.” In offering us the metaphor of the Church as a field hospital, Pope Francis is calling us to be a Church modeled on divine love: what the Father observes, he judges against the standard of the kingdom, and acts in Jesus, the Spirit, the Church, and our faith. By its very nature, the divine life extends itself to tend to those in need. Faith in action is modeled on this divine behavior. Because Jesus is the Father’s “action,” our own faith will come to fruition in action—whether in acts of mercy, charity, or justice based on our circumstances or calling—when we dare to see and act in the ways of Jesus, the empathy of God. Because of the COVID-19 pandemic, our ability to care for neighbor and stranger alike turns our action somewhat inward. If our faith chafes against this, then we have a good sense of how crucial action is to faith. Download this article as a PDF here.

What is Catholic Social Teaching?

By Rev. Kevin E. McKenna  Catholic social teaching is a cohesive body of thought that has emerged in the Catholic tradition concerning issues of justice and charity. It takes many forms, including papal exhortations, encyclicals and other forms of teaching. Its origin in modern times is identified with Pope Leo XIII and Rerum Novarum, an encyclical or authoritative Church teaching issued in 1891 about the role of justice in the relationship between management and labor. The encyclical was written in the aftermath of the Industrial Revolution. Its scope included the mutual obligations and rights of business owners and workers and the right to form workers’ associations. Such teachings by the popes have continued, adapting Gospel teachings, values, and principles to contemporary issues. Just recently Pope Francis, after a Church Synod, issued the Apostolic Exhortation “The Beloved Amazon,” applying Catholic social teaching to the Amazon region, a geographical area with many problems that contain ecological issues with moral implications for Latin America and the wider world. Bishops also share in the teaching mission of the Church. Episcopal conferences—national gatherings of bishops located throughout the world—-have issued pastoral letters and other instructions that address social justice themes. Pope Francis used several pastoral letters and statements by episcopal conferences that concerned ecology and ethics in his encyclical Laudato Si (On Care for Our Common Home). The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops recently spoke about racism in its pastoral letter, Open Wide Our Hearts: The Enduring Call to Love. Church teachings on social justice are anchored in the Scriptures, primarily the teachings of Jesus Christ. Living in society and observing the times and mores in which it finds itself, the Church must preach the Gospel as a moral corrective to honor the dignity of the human person. This social justice tradition is a necessary contribution by the Church to the many complex moral issues present in every society. In 2005, The Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace published the Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Catholic Church containing a summary of Catholic Social Justice Teaching. Why is Catholic Social Justice Important? In 1998, the U.S. bishops, in Sharing Catholic Social Teaching: Challenges and Directions, provided a schematic which organized key social justice priorities under seven themes: 1. Life and Dignity of the Human Person 2. Call to Family, Community, and Participation 3. Rights and Responsibilities 4. Option for the Poor and Vulnerable 5. The Dignity of Work and the Rights of Workers 6. Solidarity 7. Care for God’s Creation These seven themes illustrate the variety and multiplicity of topics that Catholic social teaching encompasses. The Second Vatican Council encouraged the identification of the Church with the world’s struggles, especially the struggles of the poor: “The joys and hopes, the grief and anguish of the people of our time, especially of those who are poor or afflicted, are the joys and hopes, the grief and anguish of the followers of Christ as well.” More recently, the U.S. bishops, in their document Communities of Salt and Light: Reflections on the Social Mission of the Parish, teach that a parish that does not involve itself in the struggles of its neighbors and the surrounding society in which it finds itself is not living the Gospel values that Jesus taught, especially about love of neighbor. The list of seven themes prepared by the bishops is an excellent framework for parishes to use in bringing the teachings of social justice to their neighborhood and cities. How Can We Use Catholic Social Teaching? The need to become knowledgeable about Catholic social teaching involves more than a familiarity with a set of principles; we must put it into practice. One method involves three steps: see, judge, act. Formulated by Belgian Cardinal Joseph Cardijn in the 1920s when, as a priest, he worked with young Christians committed to working for justice, it promotes observation, study and action. It begins with observation of our surroundings with deep perception (See). We note circumstances of injustice that need to be addressed. We then judge with critical thinking utilizing the disciplines of social science and theological and biblical disciplines to study more closely what we have seen. Here the Catholic social teaching tradition is helpful as a lens and tool to examine the issue. Lastly, we act. We formulate an action plan with our appropriate constituency (diocese, parish, council or committee)—a petition drive, the development of a new ministry, a letter writing campaign, etc.—-whatever is necessary to alleviate or eliminate a possible structural cause of injustice.      Our Catholic social justice tradition is not just an important body of doctrine, it is a guide for reflection and action on behalf of the dignity of the human person. Pope Francis, in the Apostolic Exhortation The Joy of the Gospel, warns against working for justice just to feel good. Rather, we work because of our baptismal mandate to be missionary disciples, to work for the dignity and value of each human being who is made in the image and likeness of God. We celebrate the Catholic social teaching tradition best when we live and promote the message of the Gospel of Jesus for a just society, working together for the Kingdom of God as a community of believers. Download this article as a PDF here.

Put Your Faith into Action

By Katie Prejean McGrady My dad dropped me off, sleeping bag tucked under my arm and a backpack slung across my shoulders. I’d left my pillow on a chair in the living room, so he had to run back home and get it for me, but I didn’t want to be late for registration. Our parish was hosting its first ever “work weekend” for middle and high schoolers, and I wanted to find a good spot for my stuff since we’d all be sleeping on the floor for a couple days, and every teenager knows you want a corner spot up against the wall. The youth minister, Walter, greeted us all as we walked in, filled out the liability paperwork, assured our parents we would be totally safe, and gave us a checklist of skills we thought we had: painting, lawn mowing, pressure washing, cleaning, sorting. It was a chores list, and all seventy-five of us happily filled it out so we could be sorted into work groups and sent out all over town to help serve parishioners in need. We worked for three days. I painted two rooms, pressure washed a house, helped organize a lovely woman’s garage, stocked food at the local soup kitchen, and visited a nursing home where I spent time with Mr. Archie, the kindliest older gentleman I think I’d ever met. He gave us each a dollar so we could go get ice cream. None of us had the heart to tell him ice cream cost way more than that. We were kids who largely resisted doing all manner of chores when we were at home, but for some reason we were more than willing to do it during a work weekend with our youth minister who reminded us at every turn that we were doing the work of Jesus Christ himself by helping the homebound and serving the poor. There was something about the idea that I was doing something for others outside my home that excited me, inspired me, and made me want to do it again. That humble weekend at Our Lady Queen of Heaven parish in the summer of 2003 eventually turned into a diocesan work camp with hundreds of young people every summer serving hundreds of homes across Southwest Louisiana and raising thousands of dollars to give to the local Catholic Charities food bank. Why is it that we can get teenagers to paint a house and sleep on a floor during a work camp but we have to drag them to a Confirmation retreat where there’s no manual labor or physical hardship? Christians feel a deep urge to help those in need. We’re compelled by the Holy Spirit to give of our time, talent, energy, and treasure. We feel accomplished and part of a larger mission when we work hard for the kingdom and serve the people of God in very tangible ways. Ave Explores: Faith in Action will examine Catholic social teaching at work in communities throughout the world. Homeless shelters, food banks, prison ministry and restorative justice, missions, Catholic Charities, and Catholic Relief Services are just the tip of the iceberg in the faith-based, nonprofit ministries serving people in need. “Catholic social teaching” can be a loaded phrase because some of its more well-known and hot-button issues often become part of a polarized debate (abortion, the death penalty, and immigration, for example). I think it becomes so divided precisely because we know that advocating for justice, serving those in need, and defending life at every stage is so important. Rather than add to the debate, Ave Explores: Faith in Action will focus on how individuals can serve the poor and marginalized. Our experts include priests and religious, those leading nonprofit ministries, and folks from parishes and dioceses doing important work in their local communities. This series will show how you, in simple, practical, everyday ways, can lend a hand, help out a neighbor, work to end injustices and hurt, and serve those in need. People need help now more than ever. The Gospel compels us to put our faith into action by reaching out to those in need. Ave Explores will show you how to give witness to God’s profound and abundant love. Download this article as a PDF here.

Mary in the Golden Age of Hollywood Cinema

by Maria Morera Johnson  Hollywood’s Golden Age, from about 1920 to 1970, offers a selection of films with Catholic themes. I love a good Catholic movie! Many people will include Bells of St Mary’s at the top of their lists or go a little more hardcore for something like Song of Bernadette. At my house, it wasn’t really Easter until we watched The Ten Commandments and The Greatest Story Ever Told. My favorite film from that era is The Trouble with Angels. None of these films feature the Mother of God in an overt way. The Blessed Virgin Mary often gets short shrift in such films, appearing briefly if at all, and is almost always depicted one-dimensionally. Part of that might be because so very little is said about the Blessed Mother in scripture. Unfortunately, some of these films reduce Mary to a caricature that reflects an inaccurate representation, if not a full misrepresentation.  The Blessed Mother was not an innocent young woman who had something done to her and then stood by passively; she was an active participant in Salvation History! Nevertheless, Hollywood’s Golden Age features some deeply religious and specifically Catholic films and many more that hint at Catholic themes without explicitly stating them. When the writers get it right, we enjoy subtle but powerful images that speak to Mary’s influence in our lives. My favorite Mary-sighting occurs in the 1957 film An Affair to Remember starring Deborah Kerr and Cary Grant and directed by Leo McCarey,. Besides being an iconic romantic tear-jerker, An Affair to Remember treats faith as a part of family life. Nick Ferrante visits his grandmother at her home and brings his new friend (and love interest) Terry McKay with him. McKay is enchanted by Ferrante’s grandmother, whom she meets as the elderly woman exits the family chapel. McKay asks if she may visit the chapel. The exchange is natural, and even a little funny, as the match-making grandmother suggests her grandson go pray, too. There’s no proselytizing in the scene. McKay prays silently, and Ferrante joins her awkwardly—we don’t know what they may have in their hearts, but the scene speaks to a sweet vulnerability from both. To the casual viewer, the pair kneel to pray in front of a statue of the Blessed Mother. The context is incidental, as the objective is to place the couple elbow to elbow in an intimate setting that serves the story. However, the faithful Catholic sees more and the layers of meaning enhance the scene in a lovely way. Nick Ferrante demonstrates respect for and obedience to his grandmother, who is not only the matriarch of his family, but quickly extends her maternal role to Terry McKay. The grandmother’s role here is Marian; she takes on the mantle of spiritual mothering and gently but firmly directs her grandson to join McKay in the chapel. Just as Mary always points us to her Son, the grandmother points her wayward grandson to the chapel to encounter the Lord. This scene marks a change in both Ferrante and McKay. Their attraction for each other deepens, but something else happens to them under Mary’s gaze in that chapel. Their hearts turn to each other, but also turn to the good. The audience understands that Nick Ferrante will abandon his womanizing ways and Terry McKay will give up her life as a kept woman to pursue authentic love for each other. This shift in their consciences and later, in their actions, happens in the chapel in the presence of the Blessed Mother who nudged them toward the good. As Christians, we understand the search for what is good is ultimately the search for God. My Catholic sensibilities are pleased by this subtle movement of grace in their lives. It isn’t easy, as this new direction comes with sacrifice and a little redemptive suffering, but we are hopeful for the happy ending that eventually comes. In this film, art imitates life. I’ve always felt that Hollywood’s best writers have a Catholic perspective and nothing supports this conclusion like the beautifully crafted and carefully hidden Mary-sightings in films such as An Affair to Remember. The presence of Mary offers us a deeper and more meaningful experience with the stories because we recognize her not just as the Mother of God, but as our heavenly mother, too. These Mary sightings in the movies teach us to look for the intersections where life imitates art: Mary’s presence in our lives may be subtle but can be seen everywhere if we would look with our eyes of faith, as grace is all around us. Download this article as a PDF here.