I found the Catholic Worker movement through the backdoor. I mean, I didn’t know I was joining such an incredible non-organization. I wanted to localize my politics and knew some spiritual anarchist folk helping out at Martin de Porres House of Hospitality in San Francisco. It was a soup kitchen, or free kitchen as I realized later (since more is served there than soup). The place is a fountain of love in the world.
Then I learned about Dorothy Day, Peter Maurin, their reaction of faith during the depression in 1933.
I love that the Catholic Worker knew that Nazi German anti-Semitism wasn’t okay and probably that the Nazis burnt down the Reichstag too). A recent post that I want to insert here:
Just taking a break from posting archival stuff about Israel Palestine. I like this story from the 1930s when the Catholic Workers joined communists in demonstrations against the German cruis liner, The Bremen when it was in port in New York City. I like the poise of the reporter and the community when faced with violence, arrest and jail. Interesting to feel a visceral connection to the situation from my experiences in the latter part of the 20th century.
Where do I feel more at home? I trust their prayers and actions. I am a catholic worker.