A Hunger for the Heroic

 

Christ told Peter to put aside his nets and follow him. He told the rich young man to sell what he had and give to the poor and follow Him. He said that those who lost their lives for His sake should find them. He told people to take no thought for the morrow. He told his followers that if anyone begged for their coats to give up their cloaks too. He spoke of feeding the poor, sheltering the homeless, visiting those in prison and sick and also of instructing the ignorant. He said, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these, ye have done it unto me.” He said, “Be ye therefore perfect as your Heavenly Father is perfect.”

 

But the usual comment is: “You must distinguish between counsel and precept. You forget that He said also ‘All men take not this word, but they to whom it is given.’ ‘He that can take it let him take it’.”

 

Paul Claudel said that young people have a hunger for the heroic, and too long have they been told, “Be moderate, be prudent.”

 

Too long have we had moderation and prudence. Today is a time of crisis and struggle. Within our generation, Russia has rejected Christianity, Germany has rejected it, Mexico fights to exterminate it, in Spain religious orders have been expelled, in Italy Fascism has exalted the idea of the State and rejecting the Kingship of Christ, has now a perverted idea of authority. Here in the United States the President on the one hand ignores the simpering approval our Ambassador to Mexico has placed on the persecution of the Catholic Church there, and is busy experimenting to find “a way out” of our economic ruin.

 

In this present situation when people are starving to death because there is an over-abundance of food, when religion is being warred upon throughout the world, our Catholic young people still come from schools and colleges and talk about looking for security, a weekly wage.

 

They ignore the counsels of the gospels as though they never heard of them, and those who are troubled in conscience regarding them speak of them as being impractical.

 

Why they think that a weekly wage is going to give them security is a mystery. Do they have security on any job nowadays? If they try to save, the bank fails; if they invest their money, the bottom of the market drops out. If they trust to world practicability in other words, they are out of luck.

 

If they sell their labor (see Peter Maurin’s essays) they are prostituting the talents God gave them. College girls who work at Macy’s – is this what their expensive training was for? – boys who go into business looking for profits – is this what their Catholic principles taught them? – are hovering on the brink of a precipice. They have no security and they know it. The only security comes in following the precepts and counsels of the gospels.

 

If each unemployed nurse went to her pastor and got a list of the sick and gave up the idea of working for wages and gave her services to the poor of the parish, is there not security in the trust that God will provide? This is but one instance of using the talents and abilities that God has given to each one of us.

 

What right has any one of us to have security when God’s poor are suffering? What right have I to sleep in a comfortable bed when so many are sleeping in the shadows of buildings here in the neighborhood of THE CATHOLIC WORKER office? What right have we to food when many are hungry, or to liberty when the Scottsboro boys and Tom Mooney are in jail?

 

St. Thomas says, “The counsels of perfection are, considered in themselves, expedient for everybody,” and he adds charitably, “but owing to the varying dispositions of people there are some for whom they are not expedient because their inclinations do not tend in that direction.”

 

But to those in whose minds these questions are stirring there are those words directed –

 

“Today if you shall hear my voice, harden not your hearts.”

(The Catholic Worker, July—August 1935)

 

 

True Humility

 

Two of the girls in the House of Hospitality have been fighting constantly. Today I felt so bad about it I could have wept. I am so enraged that anyone should so consistently, month after month, act in mean, little, underhand ways that I almost wanted to beat them both. My mind was in a turmoil and yet I could not stop it. I went to church leaving word for Tina to meet me there and she came and stayed until after the rosary. (She must be getting to feel quite at home in church.) Afterwards, we went to the movies and saw a really delightfully funny film with Butterworth in it, and then we went home, both of us with raging headaches. It had been very hot all day. At the house, it was still noisy and I wept before going to sleep, and awoke with the same feeling of oppression. To Mass and Communion, still feeling oppressed, praying with distraction. And yet it rather amused me too to place the two girls together in the hands of our Blessed Mother. But it worked!

 

Despite my feeling of almost hopelessness and desperation, humanly speaking, I came through the day feeling singularly calm, peaceful and happy.

 

Three conclusions were the result of my praying: First: My getting into a temper helped nobody. But remaining loving towards all helped to calm them all. Hence a great responsibility rests on me, Second: It was cruel to be harsh to anyone so absolutely dependent, as they are, humanly, on my kindness. Third: It is a healthy sign that they are not crushed and humbled towards other human beings by their own miseries. I mean, going around meekly for fear of me, or being humble out of human respect.

 

One must only be humble from a divine motive, otherwise humility is a debasing and repulsive attitude. To be humble and meek for love of God—that is beautiful. But to be humble and meek because your bread and butter depends on it is awful. It is to lose one’s sense of human dignity. So it is a cause for gratitude that Mr. C. and Mr. N. (it is not only women who are troublesome) and the girls should feel free to assert themselves, not worrying about the trouble they cause.

 

Let reform come through love of God only, and from that love of God, love of each other.

 

The epistle or gospel, I forget which, for St. Paulinus’ day is especially beautiful:

 

“Out of your abundance supply their want.”

 

Which means charity and patience and love, as well as material goods, and abilities to help actively in the movement. It has been doing me good all week.

 

This morning it was the Offertory of the Sacred Heart Mass which caught my eye. Why should we expect consolations?

 

It is good and healthy to be oppressed, a great opportunity for growth. We are driven to prayer, we are loath and comfortless. But as Dom Chapman says, “It is the after effects which count.”

 

And the after effects of last night’s and this morning’s heavy praying have been peace and joy and strength and thanksgiving and a great deal of humility too, at being so weak that God had to send me consolation to prepare me for the next trial.

 

I should know by this time that just because I feel that everything is useless and going to pieces and badly done and futile, it is not really that way at all. Everything is all right. It is in the hands of God. Let us abandon everything to Divine Providence.

 

And I must remember too that often beautiful scenery or a perfect symphony leaves me cold and dreary. There is nothing the matter either with the scenery or the music–it is myself. I have endured other miseries cheerfully at times. So I must be calm, patient, enduring, and meditate on the gifts of the Holy Spirit.

 

I am writing this for my consolation and courage some future day when God sees fit and thinks me strong enough to bear longer-continued crosses.

 

It is to remind myself so that maybe I will be stronger.

(House of Hospitality)