December 2011 Philadelphia Chapter of Pax Christi U.S.A.

The Challenge

A few weeks ago at church I picked up a copy of The Catholic Agitator, the LA Catholic Worker’s newsletter. In the

moments before Mass began I started reading an article by Chris Hedges, reprinted from the website Truthdig.com. It was a call to join the Occupy Wall Street movement and from the first few lines he had me squirming uncomfortably in the pew. “There are no excuses left”, he wrote. “Either you join the revolt taking place on Wall Street and in the financial districts of other cities across the country or you stand on the wrong side of history… Either you are a rebel or a slave.”

According to Mr. Hedges’ analysis I’m definitely a slave. But this realization isn’t exactly new for me. I’ve wrestled with the notion ever since my husband and I left our respective “radical” communities to start a life together. Before meeting we were both trying to pursue a life committed fully to Christ’s teachings, Robb at the Simple Way and me at the House of Grace Catholic Worker. Now with an 18-month old daughter and another child on the way our priorities are certainly different. Robb works hard to make financial ends meet and I care all day for this small child, making sure she is fed, warm, and content. These days as a young family are no doubt a precious treasure but I still feel guilty that vigils and protests against endless wars and grave economic injustice come second to my daughter’s napping schedule.

So I decided a few days ago to pack up Neva and head down with two mother friends to Occupy Philadelphia. It was Election Day and Obama was going to be in town so I was excited to take part in what I was sure would be a lively day of resistance. When we arrived in the morning there was no one around and we found out that we had just missed all the protestors headed out to where Obama was speaking. I felt deflated, like a stereotypical mom confused and missing all the action. Neva however was thrilled to run around in between the tent rows and climb on the stairs of City Hall. Soon Simon, my friend’s son, was rubbing his eyes and we decided to go.

I’m stuck here: genuinely angry about the inequality in our country, truly convinced that the work of our government in every way conflicts with the teachings of Christ, sincerely desiring a way to rebel against injustice and yet compelled to obey every instinct I know that tells me to meet the needs of my daughter above all else. I have a feeling that figuring out a healthy balance will take a long time, if ever. I suppose it might include humbly reevaluating my standards of a radical life and at the same time reevaluating my standards of a good mom. Certainly it will include learning a thing or two from the seriously radical mothers I know who are ahead of me: Mary Beth Apel, Johanna Berrigan, Slyvia Metzler and Agnes Bauerlein.

Last week I took Neva to St. Malachy’s annual Irish concert. Neva was bursting with joy as she ran and danced in the aisles. As I watched her I listened to the song whose lilting chorus sang, “Sow the seeds of justice in your daughters and your sons. Sow the seeds of equality in your daughters and your sons. Sow the seeds of freedom in your daughters and your sons.” I suppose that has to be my resolution for this moment in time. Perhaps the best I can do for right now is offer

to the broken world this little happy child dancing with joy and hope that the small seeds I plant by showing her love, respect, and kindness will someday lead to a life committed to justice, equality, and freedom.

Advent is upon us and the image of the Mother and Child are filling our hearts and minds. Neva has in her room a beautiful drawing of Mary with her Baby Jesus from our dear Bob McGovern. She is truly endeared to this image, pointing and saying tenderly “Mama” and “Baby”, even leaning in to give the sweet Baby a kiss. How wonderful that the story of salvation begins with an image so simple that a one-year-old can understand. Christ’s life was the perfection of radical love and justice and it seems to me so important to remember that His life began as a little baby, a newborn. Dorothy Day writes in her essay The

Pearl of Great Price, “But we do not think enough of His life as a little child, as a baby. His helplessness, His powerlessness. We have to be content in that state too. Not to be able to do anything, to accomplish anything.”

The story of salvation, the story of justice and peace begins here in Advent. It begins with this image of Mother and Child. And that is where I must begin as well.

Lauren, Robb and Neva Grace are members of St. Malachy

Lauren Grace