For several years I've been reading The Catholic Radical, the newsletter of the SS. Francis & Thérèse Catholic Worker in Worcester, Mass. This shelter/community is run by Scott and Claire Schaeffer-Duffy, who, in addition to living a life of radical commitment to the poor in the tradition of the Catholic Worker's founders Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin, are some of the most courageous peace activists I know of. Scott has been imprisoned a number of times for his nonviolent opposition to war; I've only met him once, at a slide show he gave about his stay in Palestine as a Christian witness to the destruction of Jenin by the Israeli armed forces. But Scott is also funny, as you'll see. I called him last week and asked if I could reprint this piece from the last issue to share with the readers of this blog, because it was just about the best - and most honest - Lenten reflection I could imagine. It's been too long since I've sent a check to Scott and Claire and I will be doing that today; maybe some of you would be moved to do it too. Their lives and work are entirely supported by donations from people like us.
“You people make me sick!” our guest screamed. “You call
yourselves Christians! You’re a bunch of hypocrites! I’ll sue you for throwing
me out on the street!”
Although it’s our preference to feature the heartwarming
stories of guests who are grateful for our hospitality and leave us for a better
future, it’s not honest to sugarcoat Catholic Worker reality. Some of those who
stay with us have life-long problems we hardly understand, much less resolve.
Some are prevented by addiction or mental illness from making healthy choices.
Some steal from each other or from us. A very small number, thanks be to God,
fly off the handle.
We had just about every type of challenging guest in
February. Several got drunk and led to us about it. One got up in the middle of
the night to smoke in the bathroom. Another relapsed on drugs. An alcoholic
former guest tried to sneak into the house at five in the morning to “use the
bathroom.” During a previous restroom stop, he stole a guest’s leather jacket.
Several guests lied to us about their income and housing plans. One of them
told a story so ridiculous that I felt like saying, “Do yourself a favor.
Before you tell me another lie, run it by someone else to see if they would
believe you.” It’s disrespectful enough that someone lies to me without
treating me like a complete idiot.
Catholic Worker life can be hard. On the coldest day of the
year, I turned up the heat, encouraged everyone to sleep in, made a special
dinner, bought snacks, and rented a movie to watch with the guests, only to see
everyone stay out late drinking. I didn’t even get a backhanded apology. I had
turned down many others who called for hospitality because all our beds were
full with ungrateful louts. Part of me wished I had a catapult. When someone
came in drunk, I wouldn’t have to ask questions or give a speech, I’d just say,
“Please sit here,” flick a switch, and
watch them hurtle off into the distance. “Good riddance,” I’d say, with
determination to fill their beds with the deserving poor.
Although tempting, there is just one problem with that
approach: it isn’t Christian. Today’s gospel by St. Luke set me straight. In
it, Jesus calls us to love those who hate, abuse, and even try to kill us
because this irrational love is what God has for all of us. At St. Benedict’s house in Washington, D.C., I learned from Michael Kirwan that
the Catholic Worker is more of a love story than a success story. In Loaves and
Fishes, the cofounder of the Catholic Worker, Dorothy Day, wrote about a very difficult guest who said on his
deathbed, “I have only one possession left in the world – my cane. I want you
to have it. Take it – take it and wrap it around the neck of some of these
bastards around here.”
Human beings can be so outrageous at times it’s easier to
love them if you laugh than if you let self-centered anger take over. Dorothy
went a step further and said, “the only true influence we have on people is
through supernatural love. This sanctity (not obnoxious piety) so affects
others that they can be saved by it. Even though we seem to increase the
delinquency of others…we can do for others, through God’s grace, what no law
enforcement officer can do, what no common sense can achieve.”
And so, when our probably not sober guest screamed at Claire
and me, “I HOPE YOU BOTH BURN IN HELL!!” I merely asked him, “Would you like a
ride somewhere?” to which he replied in a calm voice, “Sure, I’ll take a ride.”
(He’s been by the house twice since then without incident.)
May this Lent help us all to become better lovers. May this
Easter remind us love conquers every problem, even death itself.
SS. Francis & Thérèse Catholic Worker
52 Mason Street
Worcester, MA 01610
When we lived in Columbia, MO for a short time I helped out at the St Francis Community Catholic Workers House. I helped out with the soup kitchen. Thank you for the post. It brought back memories for me. Like Beth says consider donating money, food and or time to a Catholic Worker House in your community. If you donate your time, I guarantee you will be changed.
Posted by: Fred Garber | March 29, 2007 at 10:43 AM
Fred, thanks a lot for this comment. I agree that volunteering time to programs like this is a life-changing proposition, because unlike many soup kitchens and shelters where the "givers" remain largely isolated from the "recipients," that's not the case among the Catholic Workers, where sharing living space and food is part of the whole concept of hospitality. In our small town in Vermont, the community dinner program required the kitchen staff to go out and eat with the guests and get to know them. It certainly changed me, and made me much less afraid to talk to the homeless and street-dwelling people wherever I am; often I find this is even more important than a handout, and besides, like you say, it changes and helps me too.
Posted by: beth | March 29, 2007 at 03:41 PM
Couldn't be more relevant or timely. To try and give love when one is longing to flick that switch....there's the rub! And the answer.
Posted by: Natalie | March 29, 2007 at 06:19 PM
Oh joy! that's some of the best Catholic Worker writing I've read since Dorothy died!
Posted by: janinsanfran | April 09, 2007 at 03:57 PM