What We Think

This afternoon a particular homeless woman was walking down the sidewalk.  She stopped in front of our porch and talked with a man there.  She said to him, "Thanks for what you said the other day.  I've been thinking about how you told me that I've got what it takes to get off the streets."  

He replied, "Well, it's true.  It's what I really think."  

She began to talk about how she wants to go back to school.  She explained that she had been working on her Associate's Degree.  She would like to get her Bachelor's Degree.  

He expressed the sentiment, "I'm looking forward to seeing that happen."  

Similarities Between Us

Earlier this week I crossed paths once more with the homeless woman who again I'll call "Kimberly."  When we met up on the sidewalk in front of the Catholic Worker House, Kimberly said she could use a sympathetic ear.  

Soon after we started talking, Kimberly began crying.  She shared how, when she is feeling down, she eats desserts without thinking how much she is eating.  Later, after she has finished eating, she recovers her senses and realizes she has stopped eating.  She added that you wouldn't know it from looking at her: she is quite slender.  

Although I don't gorge myself on sweets these days, I do cope with low moods by having dessert.  I cope in one of the same ways as the homeless woman who confessed to me that she takes methamphetamines.  

We can easily convince ourselves that we have nothing in common with homeless people.  We can believe we have nothing to do with them.  

When we get to know people, we find we are like each other.  We find we are closer together than we had thought.  When we understand others who we had thought were very different from us, we have compassion for them.  

As we find we are alike, we find the line between us and our neighbor is not as clear as we had thought.  We come to see that our neighbor is like us.  And so we come to love our neighbor as ourselves, as Jesus taught us to do.*  

* Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27; Leviticus 19:18; Romans 13:9; Galatians 5:14 

Down The Drain

The homeless man next to our front porch.  I'll call him "Jonny."  Charging his cell phone in the power outlet on the side of our house, as people often do.  

I greeted him.  He said he was calling his boss.  He said he might work tonight.  Washing dishes.  In a town about 30 miles north of here.

Could I give him anything.  I asked him if he needed anything.  He said he did not.  

I came inside.  I saw coffee left in the coffee pot.  I thought of his shift.  Fatigue from standing and washing dishes for hours.  Coffee could help.  

I walked outside.  Jonny was gone.  

I came back inside.  I poured the coffee down the drain.  His energy down the drain.  

Belonging To Others

When we see how alike we are, we love each other.  We love each other when we remember that we belong to each other.  

As we see that we need others to forgive us, we forgive others.  We forgive others because we want to be forgiven.  As Jesus instructed us, if we forgive others their failings, God our Heavenly Father will forgive us.  Yet, as Jesus added, if you do not forgive others, your Heavenly Father will not forgive you.*  We are forgiven to the extent we forgive.  We determine our destinies in how forgiving we are of others, and so our fates and the fates of others are tied up in each others' hearts.  

We forgive each other because we realize we belong to each other.  We forgive one another because we do not want to try to separate ourselves from each other.  We forgive each other because we do not want to live under the illusion that we are apart from each other.  The reality is that we are a part of each other.  

Being part of one another, we see we must love one another.  Seeing we are intertwined with each other, we know we must forgive each other not only to love others, but also to love ourselves.  

Realizing we need to be forgiven too, we are realizing we need to be loved.  Forgiving each other, and thus loving each other, we love ourselves.  

I have seen these truths lived out amongst the homeless people here in Redwood City.  Although they have their disagreements, they forgive one another because they love one another.  

Recently I was in a parking lot with a couple of homeless people I know, who here I'll call "Kimberly" and "Benny."  Kimberly and Benny were arguing.  Although they were not yelling at each other, they clearly were not pleased with each other.  Even though I had already started driving away, I stopped.  I pleaded with them, "One thing."  They both stopped what they were doing and were totally intent on what I was about to say.  I implored them, "Please love one another."  

Kimberly immediately replied, "Anywhere other than Redwood City, it wouldn't be this hard."  

Having made my plea, I resumed driving away.  Often it's after the moment has passed that I think of what I would have said at the time.  

Had I thought of it at the time, I would have said to Kimberly, "Sister, stop making excuses.  You and I have the same bad habit: we need to stop making excuses."  

By coming up with excuses, we seek to absolve ourselves of responsibility.  As the French priest Jean-Pierre de Caussade noted, our duty to God rests in the present moment.  To embrace the present moment, we need to be accountable for our actions in the present moment.  We must admit where we have gone wrong and how we can improve.  I struggle with this call to accept what I have done and how I can better behave.  Typically I start to explain.  I begin supplying the context for my actions.  Often people need not know what else was going on when I did what I did. Rather, we can be silent and simply focus on what we are called to do in that moment, namely, examine our own actions and how we can conduct ourselves better next time.  

To help me better prepare for another opportunity to take responsibility for my own actions, I am encouraged by my sister Kimberly.  She reminds me that I am not the only one challenged by the need to acknowledge the shortcomings in our own behavior.  

I see this and other similarities between Kimberly and myself, since I know we are more alike than many people think.  I look past the differences between her and me, so she can help me to grow.  Someone once told me, "Kimberly does meth."  Were I to dismiss Kimberly because supposedly she is addicted to methamphetamines, I would lose the insights I gain about myself through her.  Welcoming her into my heart, I allow her to teach me about myself.  Seeing the commonalities between her and me, I realize that she and I are alike in important ways.  
The Dutch priest Henri Nouwen noted this truth, that we share more similarities than we initially think, during his time living with mentally disabled persons at one of the homes in the L'Arche movement founded by Jean Vanier.  Nouwen realized that living with mentally disabled persons brought him closer to his own vulnerabilities.  He explained that 

While at first it seemed quite obvious who was handicapped and who was not, living together day in and out made the boundaries less clear. . . . And when I had the courage to look deeper, to face my emotional neediness, my inability to pray, my impatience and restlessness, my many anxieties and fears, the word 'handicap' started to have a whole new meaning.  The fact that my handicaps were less visible . . . didn't make them less real.  

At first it may seem very clear who is the one with the problems.  We can easily conclude, "That drug addict is not like me."  We can quickly misapprehend ourselves and others, and mistakenly declare, "That person is messed up; I am fine."  Sooner or later we realize we share some of the same frailties that societally despised persons exhibit.  I have been told that Kimberly suffers from depression, and that she takes meth to cope with the depression she feels.  I suffer from depression if my blood sugar level drops too low, and so I cope with depression by consuming sugar.  Kimberly is addicted to meth, and I am addicted to sugar.  I deliberately use that word: if I do not get enough sugar, my mood not only plummets, but my perceptions become severely distorted.  Since the only chemical recourse I have to alleviate my depression is sugar, I am literally addicted to sugar.  While Kimberly has chosen a less healthy, less socially acceptable, and more disruptive way to cope with her depression, nevertheless the fact remains that she and I suffer from the same problem, that of depression.  

When we glance at someone, we may dismiss that person.  If we only get a glimpse of someone, we may think we have nothing in common with that person.  At first it may seem quite obvious who is disabled and who is not.  Initially it might seem apparent who is the one with problems and who is the one without problems.  Once we get to know people, and once we see how others are like us, it might become less clear who is who.  

Kimberly lives in a tent pitched behind some bushes.  I live in a Catholic Worker House.  Kimberly suffers from depression, and so do I.  Just because I cope with my mental disability in a more socially acceptable way, in a less unhealthy manner, and less disruptively than Kimberly deals with hers doesn't mean she and I don't share a mental disability.  Just because my mental disability is less evident than Kimberly's doesn't negate the fact that she and I suffer from the same condition.  

Kimberly and I share a common hardship.  Having seen that we both have the same deficiency, we are empowered to love one another.  In the past, it could have seemed only like a curse; now through the light of love, it is a blessing since it enables us to understand each other better and thus to love one another.  When we see why our neighbor acts the way she acts, we come to have compassion on her.  Realizing that we share much which is important, we come not only to respect our neighbor, but truly to love our neighbor.  We see that in loving our neighbor, we are loving ourselves.  We see that God calls us to love our neighbor as ourselves** since we belong to each other.  We see that to have peace, we must remember that we belong to each other, as Saint Teresa of Calcutta implicitly urged.  

It seems that those who are homeless here in Redwood City have realized these truths.  Weeks after Kimberly and Benny exchanged sharp words in that parking lot, I crossed paths with Benny.  As we were talking, I mentioned Kimberly.  He asked me, if I were to see her, to tell her that he had her bicycle.  I told him I would convey that message to her if I saw her.  

Then my tear ducts opened.  I added, "That's why I love you all so much, all of you who are homeless here in Redwood City.  Even if you're angry with each other, you still help each other."  
Benny, who already had been speaking in a low tone of voice, lowered his voice even further.  He replied softly, "Yeah... we look out for each other."  

We look past our differences because we know are similar.  We forgive when we realize how similar we are.  When we see our faults in others, we are led to forgive them, for both their sakes as well as ours.  We forgive because our hearts are tied up with each other.  

We forgive because we love.  We love because we belong to each other.  We love because we belong to God.  We are a part of each other because God made us to love Him and one another.  In forgiving, and thus in loving, we embrace not only each other, but also the truth that we belong to each other and to God, and thus become who God has always intended us to be.  

* Matthew 6:14-15; Mark 11:25-26 
** Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27; Leviticus 19:18; Romans 13:9; Galatians 5:14 

Humility Gives Help

From time to time I remember a certain day from a couple of months ago.  I was outside the van I use to transport supplies.  I had unloaded some cardboard boxes onto the sidewalk since I was going to discard them.  

A well-dressed, carefully manicured stranger was walking down the sidewalk.  She was absorbed in her phone.  She didn't even look up when she neared me.  

Right around the same time, a homeless woman who I'll call "Lisa" walked up to me and asked me if I would like some assistance.  She started to help me to rip up some of the boxes.  

I was struck by the contrast between how the two women treated me.  The one who society sees as a well-adjusted individual did not interact with me.  The other one, who society views as a maladjusted person who fails to meet economic expectations, was the one who offered to aid me in my work.  

Lisa, who is homeless, gave of herself.  She volunteered to serve.  
Someone might say that I knew Lisa, and that is why she inquired if I would like some help.  Someone might further point out that strangers are unlikely to walk up to people they don't know and ask if they need any help.  

However, Lisa is not the only impoverished person to ask if I needed assistance when I am working on a task outside the house here.  Other poor people of various levels of acquaintance with me have volunteered to help me when I am occupied with work outside.  

People help when they are humble.  When people are poor, they have been humbled, and so they help.

Humility drastically increases the likelihood that someone will volunteer their time.  A humble person, having lost, sees the necessity to give, and thus is ready to give of themselves.  

We receive from humble people.  When we are surrounded by poor persons, we receive.  

In giving of themselves, humble people implicitly welcome others.  Since homeless persons here in Redwood City often are considerate and give of themselves, I feel such a sense of community with them.  I feel supported by them in my efforts to follow the teaching of Jesus that we are to love our neighbor as ourselves.*  

Being implicitly encouraged to love my neighbor, I am being welcomed into joy.  Love leads to joy.  

I feel joy here in Redwood City because the homeless people here teach me how to give of myself and encourage me to love my neighbor.  When we give and love, we feel joy.  

* Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27; Leviticus 19:18; Romans 13:9; Galatians 5:14 

Divesting From Oppression

Yesterday someone I know closed his bank account with Wells Fargo.  He told me that he was taking all of his money out of Wells Fargo because that bank was one of the funders of the Dakota Access Pipeline, often abbreviated as DAPL.  DAPL threatens Native Americans' water supply.  Further, tribal leaders contend that they were not properly consulted regarding the construction of this oil pipeline and about how they would be affected by it; hence, tribal leaders say, this pipeline violates federal law as well as treaties between Native Americans and the U.S. government.  

This man who stopped doing business with Wells Fargo explained to me that he has long felt grieved over how the U.S. government slaughtered Native Americans for decades.  He has felt pained that this native people were made refugees on the land where they had been living for countless generations.  

This man related how, for decades he maintained that he never would have participated in the exploitation and degradation of Native Americans had he lived in the 1600s, 1700s or 1800s.  He described how he would have respected their human rights.  
Then this particular person painted the picture of how he had known for months that DAPL endangered Native Americans' water supply.  He shared too how he knew that tribal leaders had felt that they had not been properly consulted about the construction of the oil pipeline.  Although he protested against DAPL, for months he failed to withdraw his funds from the bank funding this oil pipeline.  

Then he remembered the words of Jesus, when Jesus berated the scribes and the Pharisees, telling them 

Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites.  
You are like whitewashed tombs, 
which appear beautiful on the outside, 
but inside are full of dead men’s bones 
and every kind of filth.  
Even so, on the outside you appear righteous, 
but inside you are filled with hypocrisy and evildoing.  
Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites.  
You build the tombs of the prophets 
and adorn the memorials of the righteous, 
and you say, 'If we had lived in the days of our ancestors, 
we would not have joined them 
in shedding the prophets' blood.'  
Thus you bear witness against yourselves 
that you are the children of those who murdered the prophets; 
now fill up what your ancestors measured out!"*  

This person who yesterday closed his bank account with a bank funding the pipeline, felt rightly accused by Jesus' words.  He realized that he was one of the hypocrites who Jesus had described.  He had insisted that he would not have oppressed Native Americans centuries ago.  However, he had continued to do business with a bank that was funding a pipeline that was being installed without proper consultation with Native American tribes: he had stood by while his money supported an institution which had supported disrespect of Native Americans.  He had supported repression of the people he had claimed he supported.  

During his languishing and dragging his feet, as he continued to do business with the bank funding the pipeline, during Lent he considered Scripture passages on fasting.  He felt led to withdraw his money out of Wells Fargo given the words of the prophet Isaiah, who recorded how God told him 

Is this not . . . the fast that I choose: 
releasing those bound unjustly,  
untying the thongs of the yoke; 
Setting free the oppressed, 
breaking off every yoke?  
Is it not sharing your bread with the hungry, 
bringing the afflicted and the homeless into your house; 
Clothing the naked when you see them, 
and not turning your back on your own flesh?**  

He felt that the time had long since arrived for him to withdraw his money from Wells Fargo.  He felt driven to stop participating in the oppression of Native Americans.  

He felt that the time had come a long time ago to start following the Word of God.  I must say I agree with him.  You see, this man I have been describing is me.  

* Matthew 23:27-32
** Isaiah 58:6-7 

Song Of All

This day is a day on which workers are especially supported and encouraged.  Today in particular the common dream of bettering ourselves comes to the fore in a way it does not on other days.  

Today, the first day of May, has been known to many as May Day.  In 1886 workers organized in efforts to lead to a shorter work day.  In the course of those rallies and demonstrations, violence erupted between police and workers in an unfolding of events which has come to be known as the Haymarket Massacre.  In the outcry against that violence, workers became galvanized in solidarity with each other, such union still being expressed each year on May 1 in support of workers everywhere.  

Today is also the Feast Day of Saint Joseph the Worker.  In honor of Saint Joseph, the foster father of Jesus, Pope Pius XII established today as the Feast Day of Saint Joseph who worked as a carpenter as Jesus did.  

Saint Joseph is the patron saint of workers.  Thus workers pray and ask him to intercede with God for them.  

All workers may look to Saint Joseph for his assistance.  All workers are engaged in a universal struggle, despite their being individual workers.  Regardless of their individual identity, all workers have common aspirations.  All workers are involved in a shared endeavor.  Thus employees often join together in solidarity with each other.  

Thus workers have the right to form unions.  Pope Leo XIII affirmed this right in his papal encyclical entitled "Rerum Novarum," or "Of The New Things."  

Workers share a common dream.  They are aspiring toward the same goal.  

As human beings generally as well we have much in common with each other in our deepest longings.  We resonate in our hearts with each other.  

We find this similarity in general amongst each other's aspirations.  We also see this basic sameness and congruence of yearnings in how people feel about their homeland.  

I have seen this theme of the universality of love of one's country in the hymn entitled "This Is My Song."  In this hymn, I have also found the idea that the love of country that one person has can peacefully coexist with the love of country that another person has for a different country.  

In "This Is My Song," we hear 

This is my song, O God of all the nations, 

A song of peace for lands afar and mine.  

This is my home, the country where my heart is, 

Here are my hopes, my dreams, my holy shrine.  

But other hearts in other lands are beating, 

With hopes and dreams as true and high as mine.  

My country's skies are bluer than the ocean, 

And sunlight beams on clover leaf and pine.  

But other lands have sunlight too, and clover, 

And skies are everywhere as blue as mine.  

O hear my song, thou God of all the nations, 

A song of peace for their land and for mine.  

The lyrics of "This Is My Song" are set to the tune of the musical piece entitled "Finlandia," which was written by the composer Jan Sibelius.  Sibelius wrote Finlandia in the midst of the Finnish people feeling oppressed by the Russians.  The piece is evocative of the national struggle of the Finns for freedom.  Finlandia is electrically charged with a pent up sense of frustration and ardent craving to be liberated.  

I found the universality of this longing for personal freedom illustrated this evening in an unexpected way.  By my side was someone with whom I share a fundamental longing, despite the vastly different circumstances in which we have lived up until now.  

I am speaking of Samah, the Saudi Arabian guest we have been hosting for months here at the Catholic Worker House.  Tonight she too was at the performance of Finlandia which was being performed by my fellow Catholic Worker Susan and the rest of her musical band.  

However, I did not know that Samah was there at the performance tonight.  During intermission, an event organizer made an announcement that someone had left sunglasses in the lobby.  Next I saw someone raising her hand.  I did not recognize the person raising her hand and waving, even though it was Samah.  

I thought she was someone responding to the news of the lost glasses.  I thought she was saying she was the one who had lost her glasses.  I perceived her wave as responding to a call that perhaps she didn't even realize was being made.   

Later, in considering that moment of raising one's hand to get someone else's attention, and being mistakenly perceived as responding to a call, I recalled that pivotal scene in the film "North By Northwest."  Cary Grant's character happens to raise his hand to get someone's attention precisely at the moment when someone else's name is being called.  He gets confused with someone else, and from then on the rest of the film depicts the maelstrom of misfortune through which he is dragged, all because people think he is someone he is not.  

However, here, Samah has already been gravely mistaken for being someone she is not.  Someone has already tried to foist a false identity upon her.  

You see, she has been expected to marry a man she does not want to marry.  Others have their expectations of her, conceptions of her which, if followed, would subject her to a life of miserable slavery, trampling down who she has always been meant to be.  

In so doing, others have been turning her world upside down.  She has been subjected to a cyclone of trouble, all because others have tried to force her to be someone she is not.  She has been put through this hardship because they do not see her for who she is.  

And yet I too did not recognize her.  As she waved, she made a gesture as if to say, "Do you recognize me?  Do you see that our dreams are not so different?"  

We all seek to grow into that space that God has prepared for us.  Our work now, in this moment, is to live to our fullest potential in this life.  

We are to live out our lives as ourselves so that we may go to dwell in that space in Heaven that God has prepared for us.  Jesus told His disciples just as He tells us, "I go to prepare a place for you."*  

We all aim to throw off the societal shackles which bind us and keep us in the horrible prison which is created when we do not live as our true selves.  Although we may not consciously realize or acknowledge this truth, we all long to discard the false self which society has tricked us into believing is us.  

The Trappist monk Thomas Merton unmasked the cruel tendency of society to convince us into believing that each of us is to live as the false self that society expects us to be.  We are to believe that we need to buy unnecessary items, that we must listen to advertisements, that we must wear certain clothes.  In all this we are led to put on false personas.  Yet we all desire to be our true selves.  Each of us deeply craves to live out our lives as the true self we have always been meant to be.  

We all hunger to be ourselves.  We all thirst to live the life of love toward ourselves and toward others and toward God that we have always been meant to live.  

On our way, we are hungry because we are suffering from the malnourishment that results from not living as ourselves.  We suffer from the delusion that we are people other than ourselves.  We misperceive others to be people they are not.  When we pick up on these errors, then we are empowered to move past our incorrect assumptions about people and see them for who they are.  

Once I finally realized it was Samah who was waving, that she was waving at me to get my attention, and that she was inviting me over to her, I joined her.  I went and sat next to her.  

During intermission, we laughed at the failure to connect with each other during that moment when she was waving and I was oblivious.  As humans often we miss the message, even when we clearly see it right in front of us.  

Later, when the part of Finlandia was being played which serves as the tune of the hymn entitled "This Is My Song," my tear ducts opened.  As that part of Finlandia was being played, I began to weep.  

It was at that point that I realized that this is my song.  I saw that this song, which speaks of the irrepressible desire to live in true freedom, and thus grow into our true selves, is my song.  And in the very next instant, I thought of Samah.  I saw that this is her song too, that this is the song of the Saudi Arabian woman sitting next to me, even though she has lived a drastically different life from mine.  

This is the song of every human being.  Do we realize it?  Do we hear it?  Do we listen to it?  Do we follow it?  

Even when society tries to squelch this burning desire in our hearts to be free, it is an indefatigable longing in our hearts.  It cannot be repressed forever.  It yearns to burst forth, to get out and be free.   

It is this irrepressible bottled up vitality, of our true life within us, screaming to be fully released and honestly expressed, which is gradually boiling up within us, threatening to burst forth.  Here is an energy which is revolutionary.  This desire revolts against repressive societal expectations which make unreasonable demands upon it, ridiculously expecting it to be untrue to itself.  This pent up life force is volatile; it will not stand for being bottled up.  It is incendiary, threatening to explode if it is not released.  This energy of the true life within us is easily powerful enough to obliterate the false conceptions of ourselves that society has foisted upon us.  

This truth of who we truly are is so charged that it is far more than powerful enough to set us free.  We do indeed share this common desire to better ourselves, to join together, to express ourselves constructively through our work, so may become what we have always been meant to be.  It is this deep yearning that is part of what forges a common bond among people from vastly different backgrounds.  

This is your dream.  This is my dream too.  

Let us support each other in our dreams to be ourselves.  In how we follow our dreams, through being our truest selves, we implicitly encourage others to do likewise.  

This way we can truly love ourselves.  This way we can be empowered to truly love each other as we love ourselves.**  

This way, by being ourselves, by being who we have always been meant to be, by being who God created us to be, by consenting to God's will for us, we are pleasing to God.  Through this way we can enter into the place He has prepared for us.  Amen.  

* John 14:2 

** Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27; Leviticus 19:18; Romans 13:9; Galatians 5:14 

Recognizing Him Now

Often we are so distracted that we are not paying attention well to the person standing before us.  Often we are so preoccupied that we miss what we are being told.  We have eyes to see.  Do we see who is in front of us?  We have ears to hear.  Do we hear what the person in front of us is trying to tell us?  

In today's Gospel reading, we hear of such difficulties in perceiving and in being open to what God is trying to tell us.  There we hear that 

That very day, the first day of the week, 
two of Jesus' disciples were going
to a village seven miles from Jerusalem called Emmaus,
and they were conversing 
about all the things that had occurred.
And it happened that while they were conversing and debating,
Jesus himself drew near and walked with them,
but their eyes were prevented from recognizing Him.
He asked them, 
"What are you discussing as you walk along?"
They stopped, looking downcast.
One of them, named Cleopas, said to Him in reply,
"Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem
who does not know of the things
that have taken place there in these days?"
And He replied to them, "What sort of things?"
They said to him, 
"The things that happened to Jesus the Nazarene,
who was a prophet mighty in deed and word
before God and all the people,
how our chief priests and rulers both handed Him over
to a sentence of death and crucified Him.
But we were hoping that He would be the one to redeem Israel;
and besides all this,
it is now the third day since this took place.
Some women from our group, however, have astounded us:
they were at the tomb early in the morning 
and did not find His body;
they came back and reported
that they had indeed seen a vision of angels
who announced that He was alive.
Then some of those with us went to the tomb
and found things just as the women had described,
but Him they did not see."
And he said to them, "Oh, how foolish you are!
How slow of heart to believe all that the prophets spoke!
Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things
and enter into His glory?"
Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets,
He interpreted to them what referred to Him
in all the Scriptures.
As they approached the village to which they were going,
He gave the impression that He was going on farther.
But they urged Him, "Stay with us,
for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over."
So He went in to stay with them.
And it happened that, while He was with them at table,
He took bread, said the blessing,
broke it, and gave it to them.
With that their eyes were opened and they recognized Him,
but He vanished from their sight.
Then they said to each other,
"Were not our hearts burning within us
while He spoke to us on the way 
and opened the Scriptures to us?"
So they set out at once and returned to Jerusalem
where they found gathered together
the eleven and those with them who were saying,
"The Lord has truly been raised and has appeared to Simon!"
Then the two recounted 
what had taken place on the way
and how He was made known to them 
in the breaking of bread.*

As two of Jesus' disciples were on their way from Jerusalem to Emmaus, Jesus appeared to them.  They did not recognize Him.  They were so caught up in their grief that they did not see the very man for whom they were grieving.  What and who we want may be before our very eyes, and we do not recognize what and who we long for.  

We may be wallowing in despair.  If someone shows up with the answer we require, will we recognize him as the helper we need?  Will we listen to the person who comes to assist us?  

Earlier this month a man who recently has been homeless, who I've met on multiple occasions, and who I'll call "Ed" here, showed up on our front porch here at the Catholic Worker House.  I saw him speaking with another man, who, I learned later, was going through a rough period.  Without being asked, suddenly Ed started counseling this troubled man.  Ed began saying, "My counselor told me, 'Ed, you deal with depression by getting things done, day after day.  After a few weeks, it becomes a habit.'"  Ed was sharing that by forming a habit of productivity, we can administer to ourselves an effective antidote to depression. 

Ed was relating the helpful advice he had received to the man standing before him.  Ed had recently been homeless, before he started staying in a shelter for homeless persons, and so some persons might not see him as someone worthy of giving advice.  If the recipient of Ed's guidance was proud, he wouldn't be able to benefit from Ed's assistance.  Conversely, when we are humble, we can learn from others.  

When we open our eyes, we can recognize the person standing in front of us as someone who is there to help us.  When we use our ears to listen, we can hear how someone else is trying to help us.  When we use our eyes and our ears, we can recognize Jesus coming to us through our neighbor.  When we open our hearts to Jesus, we can receive from Him.  When we open our hearts to God, we can receive the love He wants to give us.  When we open our hearts to our neighbor, we open our hearts to God.  

* Luke 24:13-35 

Fruits Of Discernment

This month I have reached some clarity in my discernment of my vocation.  At the same time, some questions remain.  

For the last few months, I was discerning whether or not God was calling me to serve poor persons in the context of consecrated religious life as a religious brother.  I have discerned that it appears that God is not calling me at all to consecrated religious life.  

I have come to this conclusion since I have discerned that God does not seem to be calling me to make a vow of chastity.  As best as I can see with my imperfect vision, indications are that God is not calling me to make this vow.  

In prior stages of discernment, I had focused on other vocational questions.  While I was at the hermitage, as I was discerning whether I would become a monk there or whether I was called elsewhere, I directed my discernment more prominently to my strong desire to return to ministering to poor persons.  Ultimately, I left the hermitage and returned to serving impoverished people.  

Once I had come back to being a Catholic Worker, the question arose whether I would not only serve impoverished people, but whether I would do so in the context of making vows in a religious order.  

I have felt strongly called to make vows of poverty and obedience.  For the first few months of this year, I felt like I was a piece of rope in a tug-of-war.  On the one hand, I felt as if I was being pulled by a desire to make vows to God.  On the other hand, I have felt an inclination to intimacy and affection with others.  

I have been driven with the desire to make vows to God because God has given me so much.  There is no way I can ever repay Him.  Since I feel so grateful to God, I want to give as much back to Him as I can.  We are called to love as much as we can.  Each of us is to love as much as we can within the context of the specific vocation each of us has.  Our fate will depend on how much we have loved.  Saint John of the Cross wrote that "At the evening of life, we shall be judged on our love."  

For a while I endured the stress of feeling like I was being pulled in opposite directions, as I grappled with yearnings that were both undeniable yet irreconcilable.  I reached a point where I realized that I feel empowered by God to make vows of poverty and obedience, and those longings are part of me.  I acknowledged that I also desire intimacy and affection, which is also a part of me, and which I cannot ignore.  When I admitted that both of these desires are part of me, I felt great peace and calm.  I no longer felt tension.   

I had been feeling strain over this question since I had been trying to accept something that was not mine to have.  At times in the midst of thinking about this facet of my vocation, I have pondered words of Jesus which have been invoked regarding celibacy.  Jesus said, "Some are incapable of marriage because they were born so; some, because they were made so by others; some, because they have renounced marriage for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven. Whoever can accept this ought to accept it."*  If this is yours to accept, then accept it.  If this is not yours to accept, do not try to accept it.  

In connection with this vocational question, back when I was still living at the hermitage, one of the wise monks there counseled me that you can't give what isn't yours to give.  If God hasn't empowered someone to be celibate, then such a person can't give that gift of celibacy back to God.  Similarly, if God hasn't endowed a person with the gift of a vocation to married life, then such a person is not equipped for such a life.  

Since making vows in a religious order involves three vows, namely poverty, chastity and obedience, and I feel I can do two of them but not all three, I will be making none of these vows.  I do not know of a religious institution in which members make vows of poverty and obedience but not chastity.  

However, just because I will not be making a vow of chastity, it doesn't mean I'm going to get married.  I like the idea of getting married, but that doesn't mean it's going to happen.  

It's not a question of "when."  It's a question of "if."  If God wills that I be married, then let it be so.  I am asking: what is God's will for me?  

It is not a question of improbability.  There is the temptation to think that, because I feel called to live in such simplicity, the potential population of compatible partners has been drastically reduced for me.  It is not a question of casting a line into the sea and hoping to net the perfect fish against the unpromising odds in such a large sea.  Rather, I hope I can listen, hear and follow Jesus when He tells me to cast my net into deep water or over the other side of the boat,** in whatever context He is telling me to do so.  I aspire to follow God's will in all matters, trusting in Him and having faith in Him.  If God wills that I be married, then let it be so.  For now it is in question whether it will be so.  

Similarly, the rest of my vocation also remains in question.  I continue to discern where God is calling me, to what ministry He is calling me, and with whom He is calling me to work.  In the meantime, I continue to enjoy a life of prayer and work amongst the homeless persons I have come to know and love, who I find right in front of me.  

* Matthew 19:12 

** Luke 5:4; John 21:6 

Gift Of Life

None of us would be here if God hadn't created us.  Our lives are gifts from God.  Owing all of our being to God, we are thus called to value and love our lives, and the life of every other person.  

If we realize that we have everything we have because they are all gifts from God, we treasure all that God gives us.  If we truly cherish what God gives, then we value all life, for all life is a gift from God.  

If we truly view all life as precious, then we seek to protect life which will come into being.  When we honestly consider all life valuable, then we seek to protect a fertilized egg which is called to be born as a human being.  

For a while now I have thought about how, once a woman is pregnant, if she takes no steps to intervene in what has already started, then she will give birth to a child.  A process has begun which will result in a human being in the world.  

And so, insofar as I hold dear and respect the sanctity of all human lives, whether they have already been born or will soon be born, for some time I have been wanting to protest against abortion.  Thus when I saw pro-life protesters outside an abortion clinic as I was driving home from Mass today, I pulled over and joined them.  

I walked up to some of the protesters and greeted them.  I picked up one of the spare signs they had resting in a box.  I held the sign as I alternately stood and sat on the sidewalk.  

We were gathered on a busy street.  In each direction three lanes of traffic were flowing.  The speed limit there is 35 miles per hour.  

It's a busier street than the one where I go with other Catholic Workers to protest at least once a month outside the facilities of a manufacturer of armaments.  Thus I suppose it's understandable that today in this pro-life protest, I witnessed more feedback, both positive and negative, than all the reactions I've seen in the dozen or so times I've protested outside the arms manufacturer's location.  

I am not the only Catholic Worker who protests both war-making and abortion.  I see a common thread in protesting both war and abortion, namely the sanctity of life.  I protest nuclear weapons because I value life so much that I do not want human beings to be vaporized by nuclear warheads.  I protest abortion because I value life so much that I do not want fetuses to be robbed of the life they will experience as human beings outside of the womb, which they are already on the path to experiencing.  

In short, I value life.  I oppose abortion.  I aim to stop the arms trade.  I am not in support of people executing anyone through the death penalty.  I do not favor physicians helping patients to commit suicide.  I respect and honor all life; I oppose all attempts to prevent and extinguish life.  

I want to encourage others to value life.  I am glad I was born; I am grateful to God for the life He has given me.  

Life comes into being when a man and a woman choose to share in the reproductive act and thus participate in the miracle of life.  If this process has started, it should be allowed to run its natural course.  What God has allowed to come together, let no person put asunder.  

God holds each life in the palm of His hand.  Let us trust in God to let each life unfold according to His divine plan.  

Let us value the life we have, in our bodies, and in the bodies of others.  Let us appreciate the gifts God has given us and others.  Let us value the lives others can live; let us give them the chances we have had.  Let us value others' lives as we value our own lives.  Let us love others as we love ourselves,* as Jesus has instructed us to do.    

* Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27; Leviticus 19:18; Romans 13:9; Galatians 5:14