A Shaft Of Light In A Forest Of Absurdity
A deeply spiritual friend wrote me this week of the national news, “We continue to pray for some calm in all this upheaval. I keep hoping for some sort of miracle but it just seems to get worse.” Several others echoed these thoughts about the state of our country at two prayer gatherings.
A Hispanic family came to one of the weekday Masses I attended last week at a parish in my community. They kept their heads down as though they were afraid to make eye contact with anyone. I tried a few times to smile at them and nod a hello, but they didn’t lift their heads long enough to see me. I can’t imagine the stress and anxiety so many of our immigrant families must feel entering any public place these days, even a church.
There is so much to lament. At one of the prayer gatherings someone brought up the image of Elon Musk wielding a chainsaw as a metaphor for cutting federal jobs — as if robbing people of their livelihood is something for the world’s richest man to joke about. Have we forgotten these same federal employees process our Social Security checks, inspect the meat we eat, research a cure for cancer, examine our baggage at airports to insure they don’t contain a bomb, and do much more?
This week also brought the spectacle of the President of the United States making the insane claim that Ukraine was to blame for the war with Russia. What must most of the rest of the world think when they hear these things?
Added to all that, a Congressman from Oklahoma introduced a House resolution condemning D.C. Episcopal Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde for offering a “distorted message” at the recent National Prayer Service. She, you might recall, asked the President in her sermon to “show mercy” toward those who fear his policies. Haven’t our Congress members more pressing issues to consider?
Those of us who are heartbroken write to our elected officials. Maybe we get a response, maybe we don’t. We stand in the cold in front of federal offices carrying signs that say, “No One Elected Elon Musk.” And yes, we at times feel powerless.
Still, in times like these, we might come across words that lift us up, that serve as a shaft of light in an otherwise forest of absurdity. While going through the papers of the great peace activist Eileen Egan, whose biography I am writing, I found these words of Catholic Worker founder Dorothy Day:
“We do the things that come to hand. We pray our prayers and beg also for an increase of faith … and God will do the rest … We must lay one brick at a time, take one step at a time. We can be responsible only for an increase of love in our hearts that will vitalize and transform all our individual actions and know that God will take them and multiply them as Jesus multiplied the loaves and fishes.”
Day knew what it was like to push back at the powers of her time, for which she was fined, jailed, ridiculed, and denounced even by the Church whose teachings she defended.
Still, Day understood something important. Every time we show kindness, attend a protest, contribute to a program that helps immigrants, feeds the hungry, heals the sick, or shelters the homeless — no matter what part of the world they live — we add our light to the sum of light. It might just be a pinpoint of light at first, but Day showed through the enduring strength of her Catholic Worker movement, how a point of light can multiply into shafts of light.
Chinks in what might seem like this administration’s armor are beginning to open. Farmers who say they voted for Donald Trump now complain about his tariffs. A growing number of local governments, including police departments and school districts, say they won’t cooperate with the administration’s deportation efforts. Increasing numbers of Trump voters are frustrated by his lack of focus on the high price of eggs, meat and gas.
Therefore, we keep resisting. We keep emailing our Congress members. We keep seeking ways to peacefully protest policies that go against gospel values, and also common decency. Most importantly, we keep seeking ways to show kindness and mercy. Then, as Dorothy Day did, we trust that “God will do the rest,” will multiply our acts “as Jesus did the loaves and fishes.”
