Dorothy Day authentically lived out her faith in tangible ways that mattered. Yet, she faced opposition by the society she served. Her contribution has been recognized by those who had distanced themselves during her lifetime. In 2015, Pope Francis singled her out as one of four prominent Americans: Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King Jr., Thomas Merton, and Dorothy Day.(1)
Even though Dorothy had no theological training and no positional authority in the church, she has become one of the most significant and influential people in American Catholicism.(2) She had walked away from all that mattered in American culture; family, education, prestige, power; and purposely lived among the poor.(3) Her life, before she accepted Catholic faith, was one fueled by a love for social activism and a struggle to be in a place where she could love and be loved. Her journey through life was one of struggle, loss, pain, and searching. She defined herself as a Bohemian. “She was an unwed mother, a disillusioned citizen, a poor woman, a disaffected churchgoer, an unemployed observer of the human race.”(4) It was through this intense loneliness of searching that she discovered the answer for the long loneliness all humans experience, as love. Dorothy began to understand that love was experienced by living life in community.(5)
As I was reading about Dorothy Day through my summer church history course, I was taken with her spunk and tenacity in life. Over the next couple of posts, I would like to share part of her story with you. The image at the top of this post is from a wood carving created by Fritz Eichenberg as a homage to Dorothy.(6)
Dorothy Day was born in Brooklyn in 1897 as the middle of five children. Her father was a sports writer, covering horse racing, and her mother was a homemaker. Her father was a confirmed atheist who, oddly enough, also carried around a Bible. Dorothy’s family moved to California before the 1906 earthquake shook the area. Due to the loss of her father’s job in the devastation from the quake, they moved to the East Coast. However, it was the kindness of people coming together during this tragedy in California that had a longstanding impact throughout Dorothy’s life.(7)
In her young adult years, Dorothy became involved with social justice, anti-war, and the socialist party. Against her father’s wishes, she pursued a position as a journalist. She wanted to experience the life of those in poverty. To do so she purposely lived on five dollars a month and wrote about it as a means to experience life from this place of hardship.(8)
Something about the kindness of people that Dorothy witnessed after the earthquake and her desire for social justice, helped her discover a desire to know God and to live authentically with the people she experienced in life. In this desire, she pursued many different journalist assignments. She often joined others on picket lines in her concern for social justice. The first time was in support of the suffragists in Washington DC. Women arrested earlier were treated as ordinary prisoners, instead of political activists, and taken to a workhouse. Dorothy, along with 34 other women, decided to protest their unfair treatment. Dorothy’s group was arrested and sentenced for 30 days. They made a pact to engage in a hunger strike to influence fairer treatment. As they reacted to the harsh treatment they received, it was falsely reported that the women were combative.(9)
They continued steadfast in their hunger strike. The lack of food combined with the harsh treatment and isolation caused Dorothy to go in and out of consciousness. During this difficulty, she identified herself with other prisoners and felt a deep need to escape her situation. However, she chose to endure until her 30 days were over. During day six, she was taken to the hospital. After a full 10 days, these persistent women received their demands and were taken to the city jail instead of the workhouse.(10)
Dorothy began to understand from this experience that it didn’t matter if you willed yourself to see the best in someone, they always showed their worst. She didn’t believe in prayer or religion, but she seemed to always place herself in places of prayer. Dorothy experienced prayer as peace. She felt that the “life of nature warred against the life of grace.”(11)
Dorothy felt convicted in realizing that she and the group she hung out with would live around the poor in order to help them but in reality, did not personally give up anything. This wasn’t a true philosophy of poverty. They were motivated by a sense of justice but were not embracing a life of poverty.(12) So, she signed up for a nursing training program during WWI and the Spanish flu epidemic.(13) She wanted to help the poor and began to understand that people, the sick and the poor, wanted to be respected which was more than love.(14)
Dorothy worked at the hospital for one year and left to follow her true vocation of journalism. In a time when the newspapers were stating that worker strikes were unjust and not at all helpful for the workers, Dorothy witnessed the reality the workers experienced. This real-life experience in contrast to the propaganda being shared helped to shape Dorothy’s social justice stand in life and ministry later on. She continued writing for papers, being involved in social justice protests. Another imprisonment experience continued to shape her understanding of and for the oppressed. She began to understand that it was not prudent to believe what people said but to judge their actions.(15)
More of Dorothy’s story will come in following posts. I find it incredibly interesting to discover the early foundations behind someone’s spiritual journey of discovery. So much of how we understand God is shaped by our families of origin, our experiences in life, and our understanding of how the world works. Dorothy’s compassion and empathy for people was fueled by the coming together of people in disaster and something within that saw value in those on the outside. This understanding shaped her life and ministry.
(1) Joan Chittister, “Dorothy Day” 41, no. 1 (2016): 71.
(2) Mark A. Noll, A History of Christianity in the United States and Canada (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2001), 514–15.
(3) Chittister, “Dorothy Day,” 71.
(4) Ibid., 71.
(5) Dorothy Day, The Long Loneliness: The Autobiography of Dorothy Day (Chicago, Ill.: Thomas More Press, 1989), 326.
(6) Eichenberg, Fritz, Works of Mercy, edited by Robert Ellsberg, (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1992), 72.
(7) Albert J. Raboteau, American Prophets: Seven Religious Radicals and Their Struggle for Social and Political Justice (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2016), 64.
(8) Day, The Long Loneliness: The Autobiography of Dorothy Day, 73.
(9) Ibid., 95–97.
(10) Ibid., 100–105.
(11) Ibid., 108.
(12) Ibid., 110–11.
(13) Raboteau, American Prophets: Seven Religious Radicals and Their Struggle for Social and Political Justice, 67.
(14) Day, The Long Loneliness: The Autobiography of Dorothy Day, 113.
(15) Ibid., 118, 124-125, 132.
We’ve often spoken about how we define God’s character. Our understanding of the Cross, why Jesus came to live among us, and why he died shapes our view of God. And thinking about this in the context of sacrifice and punishment distorts our understanding of a God who is for us. Let’s take a look at these two passages in Hebrews 10.
Therefore, when Christ came into the world, he said:
“Sacrifice and offering you did not desire,
but a body you prepared for me;
with burnt offerings and sin offerings
you were not pleased.
Then I said, ‘Here I am—it is written about me in the scroll--
I have come to do your will, my God.’” (Hebrews 10:5-7)
The Holy Spirit also testifies to us about this. First he says:
“This is the covenant I will make with them
after that time, says the Lord.
I will put my laws in their hearts,
and I will write them on their minds.”
Then he adds:
“Their sins and lawless acts
I will remember no more.”
And where these have been forgiven, sacrifice for sin is no longer necessary. (Hebrews 10:15-18)
The author of Hebrews writes that Christ stated God did not desire sacrifice. If sacrifice wasn’t desired, then why did Jesus die on the cross. Was it nonessential? I had always understood that Jesus died on the cross to pay the penalty for my sins, my poor behavioral choices. That Jesus’ sacrifice appeased an angry Father who can’t look at me in my sin. In theological circles, this understanding is called penal substitution atonement theory. Historically, this hasn’t always been part of our understanding of God. But, it is the only understanding I was aware of for most of my Christian journey.
Verses 5-7 share something different. God did not desire sacrifice or an offering, and prepared a body for Christ, the incarnation. Why did Christ need a body if it wasn’t for sacrifice? What if the cross was nonessential with respect to what God needed for appeasement and punishment, but was more about what we needed to understand, what we needed to see?
One of my favorite pictures of God’s care for humanity comes from Genesis 3. If you recall the story, God is walking in the Garden. Adam and Eve are hiding because of the shame they feel due to eating the fruit. I’ve always understood this scene as God calling out the misbehaving children. Yet, what I understand now is God walking in the Garden, as was God’s habit, calling out to Adam and Eve. We know looking on that God knew exactly where Adam and Eve were hiding. Yet, God calls out, “Where are you?” Such an invitational approach shows God’s desire to be with humankind. God never shames them in the conversation that follows, but only offers the natural outflow of having eaten from the Tree of Knowledge. God actually listens and clothes them before he removes them from the Garden, for their safety and benefit. If you read the whole passage, God curses the serpent and the ground but never Adam or Eve.
As we think about a God who desires to be with us--with humankind--let’s go back to the body that God made for Christ. We can tend to miss the incredible gift of the incarnation, God becoming human to live among us, to live like us. I wonder if the incarnation is a little like God habitually walking in the Garden desiring to be with us. In breaking into our world, God shows us a “new” way of experiencing a relationship, much like the “old” way: a place of continual knowing and being known between God and humankind.
What if “sin” is thinking we are separate from God instead of the behavioral choices that come from this place of separation? The Greek understanding of sin is “missing the mark,” which we have formed into a right and wrong moral code. This hasn’t been the understanding for all streams of Christianity through history. A Jewish understanding of sin is more about a break in relationship: hiding, in shame, from a behavioral choice. Like what we saw with Adam and Eve in the Garden.
In reality, we are truly loved without regard to anything we have or haven’t done, or even in how we define ourselves. We have a hard time receiving God’s unconditional love into, believing that it could be the reality. We, also, have a difficult time allowing God’s unconditional love to impact our view of those around us. We form layers of self-protection to keep ourselves and others from seeing who we really are. Spiritual writers call these layers our false self. It is who we think we need to be to be accepted or thought “right.” We hide our shame--that which defines who we think we really are underneath it all. Yet, in reality what we really are, underneath our shame, is our Imago Dei, the image of God in which we are formed.
Adam and Eve came out from hiding and God met them in their shame. God clothed them, and tended to what they needed. What if God did the same thing for humankind in breaking into our world through becoming fully human and fully divine? What if in that amazing act, God is calling out to us to tend to what we truly need?
I believe that this is true. Jesus’ death on the cross was nonessential for God to accept me and you, but was essential for us to understand God’s loving embrace. God knew that this is what we needed to fully understand God’s love. The lens of sacrifice and offering was never God’s lens, but it was and often is ours. Jesus was willing to experience great suffering at the hands of humankind so that we could “get it,” so we could let go of our trying to get it all “right” and certain.
God crossed the boundary of the other by becoming human, breaking into our world, so that we could let go of our perceptions of ourselves and others and allow ourselves to love and to be loved, to know and to be known. God invites us to join the dance. The invitation is to let go of our self-protective barriers, our false selves, how we think we need to be perceived, and allow ourselves to be known. God modeled this for us by letting go of God’s perceived right to be God, to become one with us. Can we follow the example of the cross and let go of our own perceptions of who we need to be and allow ourselves to be known and to know those around us?
As we discussed in the last blog post, George Fox moved from an understanding of God formed in Calvinism to a new way to understand, know, and experience God. When Fox started preaching in 1647 people gathered to seek something new due to their dissatisfaction with religion. Fox wasn’t trying to build a church but to share the message he felt God had given him for the whole world. He believed the world would hear this message and become the True Church with Christ as the head. All the deceit he saw in the church came from people betraying the basic principles of Christianity. The only way out, in Fox’s opinion, was an inward submission to God, acceptance of God’s grace, and listening to Christ’s voice in the inner self.(1)
Fox focused on people and not on forming a theological doctrine. He felt Christ, the Light within each person, would teach each person, just as Christ had taught him. As Christ met people, they would be convicted of sin, which would lead to true repentance. The work was God’s. Fox understood the Light within is the one who “guides, warns, encourages, speaks, chastens, cares.” (2) It illumines the Scripture and is the Christ we seek. Fox’s understanding comes from John 1:9 and 8:12.(3)
In contrast to Puritanism, Fox believed it didn’t matter if you had a pure heart or agreed outwardly to doctrine. What mattered was how one responded to the Light. So, Fox didn’t point people to Scripture or the cross but to the inner light, bringing their lives to this Light.
Puritanism, on the other hand, taught a morality code without assurance of salvation. People did not know if they would gain eternal life since it was uncertain if they were one of the “elect.” Puritanism was a response and reaction to the hierarchical churches’ actions due to power and control. Yet, they created rules, a form of control, in their desire for people to do “right.” This may seem like it comes from good intentions, but acting as morality police for other people doesn’t work. One of Fox’s main complaints with the Christian church was their interest "in a savior who could forgive sin but not in a Christ with moral power to overcome sin.” (4) Unfortunately, judging others in this way often leads to dehumanizing those who are not like us.
Fox believed we all the Light of God within us. We have different measures of light based on our own journeys. Some teach we have just a fragment of God, but Fox states it is a presence of God. There is only one true Light, and we enjoy this fullness of God in community. We can’t practice our faith journey in isolation but we need community around us. (5) As we become reconciled to God and creation, this Light is the source of truth, the power to act on that truth, and unity with God and others.(6)
If every person has the Light within, then all are created equal without regard to race, gender, or anything else. Fox criticized meetings that didn’t allow women to speak and supported many women in leadership roles. This understanding was also behind his unwillingness to fight since “that of God” was in every human. The social inequalities so firmly in place were abhorrent and needed to be eliminated. This understanding led to a different way of speaking to one another without the social constructs formed to keep people in place, such as titles and removing one’s hat.(7)
Fox sensed God revealing things to him, “openings.” He experienced this Inner Light through seeking God and studying the New Testament. His understanding of God changed. Fox taught the physical practice of the sacraments remaining in Protestantism kept people from experiencing the real meaning represented. He didn’t disagree with the historical creeds but rejected them since they were formed for political and diplomatic reasons. Those who held to them used them as a test of orthodoxy and killed those who disagreed. Fox felt these practices were not from the spirit of Christ but were in actuality “devilish.”(8) Due to these doctrinal issues, Fox spent time in prison for having beliefs outside of what was considered orthodox during this time.
It is entirely impossible to speak to all the aspects of George Fox’s ministry or of the efforts of his followers. It was a movement that spread from living out the implications of what Jesus lived out among us. This goes well beyond what we know to be right by allowing the effect of God’s gaze of love to impact those around us. For Fox, and those who were affected by his life and teaching, it made a difference. They lived out that difference in ways that had harsh implications for their own lives. Yet, they lived out precisely what they believed. They did not follow rules or debates over doctrine but stood courageously in knowing that there is “that of God” in every human and that that statement of truth matters.
Quakerism has struggled since this time to remember this truth and to live in a non-hierarchical understanding of leadership and worship. Throughout history, Quakers, like other denominations, have split and split again. We all still struggle with perceptions that have impacted Christianity all through history. What is the authority of Scripture as we understand who God is, who we are, and who is the “other?” Are some on the outside based on our understanding of Scripture? I would have to say that I have found a home in Quakerism and even more so after studying George Fox, even in this limited time. His understanding of church, of God, and of humankind resonates deeply in my heart, as home for me.
(1) John Punshon, Portrait In Grey: A Short History of the Quakers (London: Quaker Home Service, 1984), 43–44, 46.
(2) Ibid., 36.
(3) Ibid., 48–49.
(4) Wilmer A. Cooper, A Living Faith: An Historical Study of Quaker Beliefs (Richmond, Ind.: Friends United Press, 1990), , 13.
(5) Punshon, Portrait In Grey, 50.
(6) Cooper, A Living Faith, 13.
(7) Rufus Jones, “Introduction,” in George Fox, An Autobiography (Philadelphia: Ferris & Leach, 1903), 34-35.
(8) Punshon, Portrait In Grey, 47–48.
This phrase was a question asked by George Fox, the founder of Quakerism, during the 17th Century and seems to be still pertinent today. During this last semester, I studied the Reformation period and wrote my summary essay on George Fox. I included the context of the time along with his life story. I found it quite impactful and decided to share pieces of it here with you.
Outside of Quaker circles, George Fox is not widely known. His life was one of seeking out God and then faithfully following the God he discovered. As he sought out God and lived out his life as faithfully as he knew, people were impacted. What he discovered about God’s character changed how he viewed, lived around, and ministered to people. Even though we haven’t heard much about him in Evangelical Christianity, his thoughts have impacted what we hold true about God.
To understand Fox’s story, we first need to look at the context of the time in which he lived. The 17th Century wasn’t a time when religion was neglected. In fact, religion was generally on everyone’s minds. People talked about doctrine and the practice of living out one’s faith. They argued over the rightness and the wrongness of minute points of doctrine, religious understandings, practices of worship, and proper dietary restrictions. When a public meeting on religion was offered, people attended in crowds. Many came to enjoy the debates and to judge for themselves the validity of the arguments presented.(1)
We see arguments throughout Church History, one side claiming rightness over another. This time, in particular, was a time when people believed in religious liberty for themselves but were unwilling to grant it to others. Intolerance ruled when it came to understanding God and living a life of faith. People felt it not only their right but their duty to enforce their own convictions on one another.(2)
Quakerism, as a movement, started during the English Civil War, when religion was breaking away from the institutional church, the economy was suffering from inflation and depression, and there was a political revolt against the Stuart Monarchy. British historian Christopher Hill is quoted as saying “the world turned upside down.” Quakerism was a response to this tumultuous time. William Penn suggested that Quakerism was “primitive Christianity revived.” It is thought of as a way of life in contrast to living out a set of beliefs, theology, or doctrine. As Fox and his followers shared what they felt were God’s revelations for them and the world, they faced many trials with the religious and legal authorities.(3)
Let’s enter Fox’s journey as he started seeking answers to tough questions. He attended the local parish with his parents until he was 19. At this time, he stopped attending because he became more confused and acted on his feelings of spiritual unrest. He could not understand why religion did not make “bad” people “good.” Those in the church talked about faith and God, yet they looked just like the world. Fox started going around seeking answers from the different streams of Christianity. No one could speak to his “condition.” With no answers that met his questions, he left his friends and family to wander for three to four years. He sensed this move to be commanded by God.(4)
During this time, he read Scripture and sought God. He continued to ask ministers and professors questions and discussed with them his findings. They would reason with him but did not have answers for what he was seeking. God met him in his questions but outside of the leaders of the church or academia. He called these new understandings from God, “openings.” In a world dividing between Protestants and Catholics, he sensed God tell him that all Christians were believers, born of God. Also, he sensed that it wasn’t an education that qualified one to be a minister of Christ in contrast to this commonly held belief.(5)
Understanding that God did not approve of men as ministers due to education and that God did not dwell in specific buildings, brought a freedom to Fox that opened a way to discover God outside of both of those culturally approved means.(6) In anguish at times, Fox continued seeking answers from God to appease his soul hunger. In this place, he sensed God met him and wrote this oft-quoted phrase.
And when all my hopes in them and in all men were gone, so that I had nothing outwardly to help me, nor could tell what to do, then, Oh then, I heard a voice which said, ‘There is one, even Christ Jesus, that can speak to thy condition’, and when I heard it my heart did leap for joy.(7)
In this place as a “heart hungry seeker,” Fox became a “joyous finder.” Other seekers who desired a satisfying experience with God listened to Fox and joined together in small groups. Next time we will discuss more of Fox’s message to a culture being greatly influenced by defining moral rightness and wrongness.(8)
(1) Walter R. Williams, The Rich Heritage of Quakerism (Newberg, Or.: Barclay Press, 1987), 13.
(2) Ibid., 24.
(3) Wilmer A. Cooper, A Living Faith: An Historical Study of Quaker Beliefs (Richmond, Ind.: Friends United Press, 1990), 2.
(4) Williams, The Rich Heritage of Quakerism, 3-4.
(5) George Fox, George Fox, an Autobiography (Philadelphia: Ferris & Leach, 1903), 66; Punshon, Portrait In Grey, 41, 74-75.
(6) Ibid., 76.
(7) George Fox, The Journal of George Fox, ed. John Nickalls (Cambridge England: Cambridge University Press, 1952), 11.
(8) Williams, The Rich Heritage of Quakerism, 5.
One of my favorite hobbies is running because it provides fresh air and a very quick, affordable workout! And yet over the years, I have succumbed to various running injuries of which my initial approach is to try to push through the discomfort in hopes it will heal on its own. This last round I found myself with a tight hamstring that, despite all kinds of stretching, would not subside. So, I threw on some Icy Hot type substance, put on a leg wrap, turned up the grit, and hit the road. It was the next day I felt that the hamstring injury moved to my back with a zing that would not disappear.
Treating running injuries over time has enabled me to befriend a wonderful Physical Therapist, name Kathleen. Kathleen is a true gem, who puts me back together like Humpty Dumpty after each injury. Sometimes she can fix the issue and have me back running within the week, yet other times it takes a bit longer. On this round, she discouraged me from running for a while, but I developed some restlessness and so out of almost sheer necessity to burn some energy and move my body I decided to bust out some push-ups and heavy core work two days later. Sometimes stubbornness pays off; sometimes it bites you in the butt. Literally. In this case, it was my sacrum (lowest part of the spine) that shot pain through my body right before my foot went numb.
The numbness had me pretty concerned, especially heading into a week of vacation in another state. Although Kathleen worked miracles on my back and got everything to a comfortable position, the foot numbness remained. Nevertheless, we packed the car and headed out on the road. The sitting did it wonders but the restlessness built up and I managed to push too hard, mess up my sacrum again, and send my back into muscle spasms while on vacation.
Not one to let a good, sunny vacation go to waste, I limped around Legoland loading my body with two Ibuprofen every 4 hours. As a general rule, I prefer water, eating healthy, fresh air, and a good night sleep to taking any kinds of medication. However, since I would not have access to PT for a week, I was not finding any comfortable sleeping positions, and I could barely move, I rolled the dice with the Ibuprofen.
The discomfort continued. It was frustrating and out of my control. No matter how hard I tried to push, I could not go fast. I encountered forced sabbath. The idleness created more restlessness and frustration, but I could not go for a run (or even a very brisk walk) to blow off the steam. The discomfort caused a complete break in my regular rhythm. I had a choice - I could continue to try to push hard (and make it worse), or I could choose to let go and be vulnerable to a process - to relax, to go slow, to trust others do some heavy lifting, to heal.
We started our road trip home on Good Friday, and it was a long day of driving. Toward the 7th hour in the car, I could feel the sacrum bone shooting discomfort into my muscles. I tried rolling a tennis ball while sitting in the front seat to loosen the tightness. I sat there in agony, rolling the ball, trying to find a position that would ease the pain. And I started reflecting on the day. Good Friday. The profound historical significance of the day hit me. As I was meditating on the circumstances of the moment a Hillsong United song, So Will I, poured through the radio with the line, “If you gladly chose surrender, so will I. If you gave your life to love them, so will I.” And I broke. Tears flowed forth. Surrender. What a place of vulnerability. Letting go, ceasing to push, releasing the illusion of control. Navigating life, embracing the opportunity to do the next right thing, which might not be “more of the same.”
Two days later, on Easter Sunday, I spent some time reading about the Paschal Triduum (the period of time from Holy Thursday to Easter Sunday), which is also referred to as Triduum Sacrum. In a great moment of irony, my eyes fell back on those words, Triduum Sacrum. Sacrum! Could this be connected to the sacrum bone that was healing in my own body? A quick Google search helped me learn that the sacrum part of the Latin Triduum Sacrum, indeed referenced the bone, and it was known as the “holy bone” because the sacrum was, in ancient times, the part of the animal surrendered in sacrifice! Some even believed it was where a person's soul resides. Further reading revealed that the Greek word for the sacrum literally meant “strong bone.” Indeed there was a history of strength and surrender tied to that bone.
Sometimes we encounter problems that we experience as very frustrating and inconvenient, and yet sometimes I wonder if these problems actually have a place in our lives. Through the whole process of injury and recovery, I learned that sometimes discipline and strength are needed to push harder doing more of the same, but sometimes that same discipline and strength is needed for surrender. Strength and surrender seem paradoxical, but they work together. It takes great strength and temperance to surrender. And yet there are times in which it is only through the surrender we can emerge stronger. And maybe, just maybe, it is in the temperance and paradox that one might run well and truly thrive.
Hello, I'm Kathi Gatlin. Thanks for stopping by!