In her writings, the late Catholic pacifist Dorothy Day often focused on the

central role love must play in the life of the Christian.  “Love is the measure,”

Day wrote.  Yes, indeed, we respond, yet we live in culture where this quintessential message of Jesus – to love everyone, even our enemies – is subverted by a blurring of the lines between fidelity to God and fidelity to the nation state.  United States citizens like to claim we are “One nation under God,” but that is merely a trivial slogan that has no real meaning and no real context. It is designed as a sound bite that gives false comfort and a sense of moral certitude to a privileged people who have no interest in a deeper faith that demands sincere holiness and personal accountability.

        
Stanley Hauerwas, a Duke Divinity School professor of Christian ethics, who's best-known book is appropriately titled “Resident Aliens,” says American Christians are “more American than Christian.”  In a Duke Magazine interview, Hauerwas said the identification of God and country is very troubling: ”Let me be as clear as I can be, the God of ‘God and country’ is not the God of Jesus Christ.  Yet this is not a development that began with September 11.  One of the issues before American Christianity is whether the God we worship is the God of Jesus Christ.  American Christians simply lack the disciplines necessary to discover how being Christian might make them different.”

        
Which brings us to our Lenten text. In Isaiah 58, the instruction is clear; there are no ambiguities. The prophet delineates what should make a person of faith “different,” so to speak.  You know what's been done, Isaiah writes. Let's call it “public penance.”  Heads bowed “like a reed.”  Sackcloth and ashes making a mess.  Pounding the chest in false piety perhaps.  But, lo, is this the accountability God wants?  “Do you call this a fast, a day acceptable to the Lord?” Isaiah asked.  “Is this the manner of fasting I wish?”   Of course not.  In fact, Isaiah exposes a common hypocrisy of his day: Ritualistic public penance without any substance.  “Lo on your fast day you carry out your own pursuits, and drive all your laborers. Yes, your fast ends in quarreling and fighting, striking with wicked claw.”  

        
Sadly, these hypocrisies are still with us in one form or another. In this land of plenty, the “least of these” fall through the so-called safety net or go without.  The edict of love is forgotten in a nation that wages war on several fronts simultaneously. Rather than welcome the stranger, we revile the stranger. The homeless and mentally ill -- the have-nots -- are often left to fend for themselves, and scorned by the haves. Laborers in our society are often exploited.  Some North Carolina farmworkers have been held as slaves, been made to live in squalid conditions in farm labor camps and exposed to dangerous pesticides in the fields.  Unions are rejected, and scores of manufacturers have abandoned North Carolina workers and their communities to move abroad where regulations are few and workers are exploited in countless ways.

        
As we enter this 40-day season of penance and reflection, let's examine what it is God wants from us as we grow in our faith.  “This rather is the fasting that I wish: releasing those bound unjustly ... setting free the oppressed, breaking every yoke; sharing your bread with the hungry; sheltering the oppressed and the homeless; clothing the naked when you see them, and not turning your back on your own.”  There are countless ways in which we can make these passages come to life in our own lives and in our society so that “We can be the change we want to see in the world.”  Once again, following Jesus’ example is our best starting point.  In Matthew 25, Jesus says the depth of our faith is measured by the depth of our relationship with those society labels “outcasts.”  In Jesus' day, outcasts were lepers, prostitutes and tax collectors to name a few.  Today, outcasts include those with HIV and AIDS, gays and lesbians, Latinos, Muslims and prisoners, among others.  Each of these groups of people faces scorn and vilification in our culture, but Christians must be different.  We are called to provide love to those who are rejected and hated.

        
This love should include a level of depth that stretches us beyond our comfort zone and even beyond prayer. Often, people make donations to those who work to improve the lives of the poor and oppressed.  That's important.  We may even write a letter to an elected official stating our desire for change.  That's also good work.  However, the Christian must make the distinction between good work and God's work.  Jesus' example of fasting and prayer is challenging, but we must also remember Jesus used those Lenten disciplines as a means to an end.  In Jesus' case, the end was direct action.  Our faith must move us beyond charitable giving and letter-writing and into personal contact and direct action.

        
Jesus was a healer, and to heal usually includes touch.  Personal contact with outcasts -- the unclean -- was a way of life for the Prince of Peace.  Personal contact with outcasts can help us achieve a depth of love that Jesus calls “abundant life.”  It is direct action that expands us, and best expresses God's love through us.  As we practice the Lenten disciplines for the next 40 days, let's spend time reflecting on what direct action might look like in our lives.  Can we get to know a homeless person personally? Can we visit a prisoner?  Can we become part of an AIDS care team?  Can we provide safe haven for a domestic violence victim?  Can we stand on a picket line with a worker, hold a sign at a peace rally?  Can we risk arrest in an act of civil disobedience?  Can we take up our cross and follow the nonviolent Jesus?  All things are possible with God, and with love as the foundation of everything we do, we will “taste and see the goodness of the Lord.”

 

BY PATRICK O’NEILL, CO-FOUNDER, 

FR. CHARLIE MULHOLLAND 

CATHOLIC WORKER HOUSE, GARNER