2015.5 little way christmas

The Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ 2015

Tyler Hambley - Catholic Worker, CFW, Pittsboro, NCand Youth Minister, Church of the Holy Family, Chapel Hill, NC

Over the last year-and-a-half, The Community of the Franciscan Way adapted to many shifting circumstances. Close friends and housemates moved away; three community houses consolidated into one; the second floor of the Maurin House was renovated over six months; and the rapid redevelopment of our 9th Street neighborhood changed the landscape. Meanwhile, the vagaries of Catholic Worker life—its heightened celebrations, challenges, and disappointments—remained constant. Oh… and… somewhere along the way, two weddings happened, three babies were born, and another little one is due soon and very soon! Yet even as the space literally constricted around us, we continued to pray the Daily Office and perform the Works of Mercy, ever hopeful that, perhaps one day, we might find fresh ground from which to make this way of life more than a temporary, fragile exercise.

Still, given all this, you could be forgiven for bracing for one of those sadly-now-it-must-end lines: “Well, folks, it was fun while it lasted, but now it’s time to close up shop.” Actually, we would like to announce just the opposite! Beyond merely surviving this “lean and mean” year—as we jokingly refer to it—our prayer and work flourished, even yielding a long awaited piece of the Catholic Worker vision. We write to celebrate this development with you—our readers—and to request your continued prayers and support.

The Catholic Worker has always been committed to three vehicles that witness to the Gospel: houses of hospitality, clarifications of thought, and farming communes or agronomic universities. Having done the first with some competency, we began to get traction towards a farming commune last spring. A farm is a place where our families can establish permanent roots

Building Relationships

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Farming Communes

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The publication of The Community of the Franciscan Way,a Catholic Worker in the The Episcopal Diocese of North Carolina.

Vol. V, No. 5

LITTLE

Now the Lord said to Abram, ‘Go… to the land that I will show you.’

(continued on p. 2)

Helping Someone that is Trying to Kill You

Page 6

WAYTHE

The Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ — 25 December 2015

T H E L I T T L E W A Y

2 The Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ 2015

and welcome additional children among our permanent residents and temporary guests. It also makes good work available for our bodies that is at the heart of monastic life—ora et labora being the simple rhythm of Christian communities for millennia. Consequently, a farm enriches our hospitality with the poor by not only allowing us to share the gifts of shelter and food, as has been the case at the Peter Maurin House, but also by allowing us to share the gift of good, life-giving work to do, thereby cultivating a deeper household economy where the differences between scholar and worker, rich and poor, black and white, young and old are taken up into, and celebrated within, the Body of Christ.

It’s worth pausing here to reflect on this particular notion of work. As Catholic Workers, we’re used to getting asked if certain of our poor friends have “jobs” yet. However, we’ve learned to be suspicious of this question because—let’s be honest—it’s too often laced with the assumption that only an upwardly mobile life is a life worth living. In fact, the poor have taught us differently, that most of the things we pursue are unnecessary at best and idolatrous at worst. Perhaps it is better to spend one’s life drinking 40oz beers all day than to have a career working for a company that perpetuates systemic evil. And yet, such a dichotomy, while rhetorically helpful for our usual brand of polemic, is a false one: both scenarios illustrate the deep brokenness (though in very different ways) of our modern industrial society. And so while we resist trying to “do” anything to change our poor friends, especially when that “doing” often looks like an

impersonal program ordered toward “rehabbing” the poor back into the production/consumption cycles of the American middle-class, we also don’t want to withhold from them (or ourselves for that matter) the gift of work that is truly redemptive and convivial. After all, the work of a farming commune is not for the purposes of production for production’s sake, but rather for the literal sustaining of our lives-shared-in-common. There is firewood to cut, vegetables to harvest, food to cook, dishes to clean, and animals to feed—all so that we can collectively and intimately live together as a family. And so, while it is a good thing to rent a house for a poor man or woman, and perhaps

better still to live in that house with that p e r s o n , w e ’ r e discovering that it’s best to seek a life of i n t i m a t e i n t e r d e p e n d e n c e with the poor.

N a t u r a l l y , q u e s t i o n s o f resentment on the one hand and power dynamics on the other inevitably arise. These are all appropriate. We do our best to celebrate

the very different gifts we all have, to practice good confrontations, to always welcome outsiders to interrogate how we live (some of you have played that role), but most importantly, we submit ourselves to prayer so that the household culture we cultivate is one faithful to the power of the one who “emptied himself” a la Philippians 2:5-11. “Power,” then is something we often find ourselves laying down or sharing. Such praying has made it such that there is no “me” separable from this particular community’s “we.” If any one of us suffers, we all suffer. If any one of us rejoices, we all rejoice! We humans are not complete without that form of communion!

(continued on p. 3)


The Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ 2015 "3

SMART PHONE?

The idols of the heathen are silver and gold,the work of human hands.

They have mouths, but they cannot speak;eyes have they, but they cannot see;

They have ears, but they cannot hear;noses; but they cannot smell;

They have hands, but they cannot feel;feet, but they cannot walk;

they make no sound with their throat.Those who make them are like them,

and so are all who put their trust in them.

Psalms 115:4-8 and 135:15-18

An invitation to better realize this ecology of Peter Maurin’s cult-culture-cultivation vision has arisen out of our twice-weekly work days at Granite Springs Farm, an organic farm in Chatham County run by Meredith Leight, a long-time parishioner of Church of the Holy Family, Chapel Hill. The CFW moved to Granite Springs Farm on December 4th, 2015. There, we continue to pray the Daily Office, practice the rhythms of hospitality, offer regular community meals, and, now, we’re picking up the skills of organic farming. This includes both the Hambley and Sroka families, three other former residents of the Maurin House, plus one gentleman who was just recently living outside at St. Joseph’s Episcopal Church. Three of the five bedrooms at the farm are being used as Christ Rooms for our current housemates and/or other poor folk we meet in rural Pittsboro. Meanwhile, the Miller family will remain in Durham, and have personally rented a two-bedroom house for Concrete. Fr. Colin is now transitioning to the Roman Catholic Church

by way of the Personal Ordinariate of the Chair of St. Peter. As a result, a change in formal leadership of the CFW was requested by all three families and approved by the Bishop: Fr. Clarke French (Rector, Church of the Holy Family, Chapel Hill) is our clergy advisor, and Tyler Hambley and Joe Sroka are the Lay Co-Missioners. Thank you again for your prayers and support. We look forward to welcoming you out to The Community of the Franciscan Way at Granite Springs Farm. As with previous iterations of the CFW, this comes with both celebration and lament. Even while we remain connected—though in new ways—to Durham, St. Joseph’s Episcopal Church, the Millers, and our many other homeless friends, we will miss the old paHerns in and around Iredell Street. And yet, we believe those very same paHerns have yielded a new land, a new place, and an old calling: “Go… to the land that I will show you.”+

Credit: Manu Cornet


" The Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ 20154

The Rev. Timothy CallowNewberry and Engadine United Methodist Churches, Newberry and Engadine, MI

I am done building relationships.Now, this may seem foolish; I am, after all,

a pastor in The United Methodist Church. I’m told that the path to renewed vitality is to build relationships. One of my colleagues confided to me that he has bought over two hundred dollars worth of books on church renewal and church vitality and they all tell him to build relationships with those outside the church. So if I refuse to build relationships, I’m rejecting what seems to be the consensus opinion in church renewal. I’ve heard the same message at conferences and at church gatherings and I’ve even had a mentor tell me that our vocation is “all about relationships.” If I’m not up to the task of building relationships, perhaps I’ve put myself out of a job.

I am not, however, done with relationships themselves. I am only done with building them. It’s hard to be done with relationships themselves when the word is so plastic it has no clear meaning. By plastic I’m referring to Uwe Poerksen’s identification of plastic words, or modular language. Plastic words do not derive any meaning from their context, and are without substance. These words are borrowed from the realm of science but lack the precise meaning they would have in a scientific setting. Plastic words do retain the authority of science and the connotation of importance. “Relationship” is a plastic word because of its empty meaning but strong connotation. I can have a relationship

with my friends, my family, my dog, my local government, and my computer. I even have a relationship with myself. So I’d be spitting against the wind if relationships were the issue. It is not relationships that I have trouble with: it’s the sort of relationship that I get to build.

Building a relationship implies more than intentionality, it also implies a managed process with guaranteed results. In other words, once I set out to build a relationship the only place where I can go wrong is in the planning. One may build a relationship in this way with a school, or a social agency, or the local chamber of commerce. All it takes to build that relationship is a phone call and a lunch. As we continue to partner together for our clients we come to trust each other more and the partnership extends and continues. Perhaps we should share members on each other’s boards, so we can better coordinate our efforts. We would say, then, that it builds.

Let’s call this partnership.I have helped build

partnerships with schools, but I have never built a friendship with one. A friendship can only take place between two or more persons. I cannot be a friend with my computer, as my computer cannot show affection to me. Friendships are extended, and accepted or rejected. If they are accepted then they have opportunity to grow. In my case friendships tend to flourish by accident, not because I made the necessary plans.

Building Relationships

(continued on p. 5)

Credit: Ade Bethune



Friendship finds itself in the flowering of affection that may one day bear the fruit of Christian charity. That is, that we would will with one will what God wills for us.

These two things—partnerships and friendships—are two very different sorts of relationships. But when we say that we must “build relationships” the two become conflated. This is the character of the world’s plasticity. Many people, when they hear “relationship”, imagine the flowering of friendship, and certainly friendship is a possibility. But in practice partnerships are formed, and these partnerships are not the task of the Church. The danger is that we will form partnerships with systems, and build the relationship of “client” with the poor. Why else would we form a partnership if it were not to mutually benefit our clients? And a client relationship is a relationship wherein we maintain the power to serve those who lack material resources by efficiently distributing those resources. Neither is the peculiar task of the Church. Neither are the sort of relationship made possible by Christ’s blood.

In The Externally Focused Church, Rick Rusaw and Eric Swanson have a chapter on relationships called “Nothing Happens Outside of Relationships.” They open the chapter with a moving account of how the early Church personally served the poor, and sick, and outcast at a sacrifice. They then pivot to the modern day where they illustrate examples of relationship building, one church works with the fire station, and another church works with the school. The book moves from agape to partnership. It can do this because the word “relationship” is so plastic that it can subsume both meanings. But when we fail to be specific, it is the world of the partnership that wins.

So yes, I am done with building relationships. I am done with building relationships because Jesus Christ did not build a relationship with humanity. Rather, in the fullness of time Our Lord was born from a woman, suffering the indignity of human birth, that he might extend his hand in friendship to those who have eyes to see and ears to hear. He gave himself for us, and in imitation we ought to give to others at a personal sacrifice. When we build relationships with schools and make the poor our clients, we fail to cultivate the sort of friendships made possible in the body of Christ, the friendship modeled for us in the Eucharist. Jesus did not make us his clients, he did not make us his partners, but instead he calls us friends. “I have called you friends” (John 15:15).+

Credit: Fritz Eichenberg



Tyler Hambley - Catholic Worker, CFW, Pittsboro, NCand Youth Minister, Church of the Holy Family, Chapel Hill, NC

A homily on the occasion of Fr. Colin’s final celebration of the Holy Eucharist

at St. Clare Chapel — 20 November 2015Well, this will be the last celebration of the

6:25am Mass here at St. Clare Chapel in the Peter Maurin Catholic Worker House. Even to say that comes with a great sense of sadness. It is, at the very least, bittersweet: bitter because we are leaving, heading in new directions; sweet because those new directions were nurtured under the candlelight of this place. For the last three-and-a-half years we have gathered here time and again to do no less than worship almighty God. Here, we have tasted and seen that our Lord is good.

As Fr. Justin Fletcher has said, “We Christians worship God for no reason.” That is to say, worship is not a means to some other end. It is not a program for self-improvement. It does not bolster some ideology of social justice, nor is it merely the tag along to something called “hospitality.” In fact, it is a misnomer to call this place a hospitality house; it is first and foremost, a place of worship. You see, worship is itself the beginning and end of the Christian journey. We were created to adore God.

Now, it just so happens that if one submits their life to prayer and worship in this way, certain other things usually follow suit, even if a bit indirectly. For though Christian worship is primary, and though it takes us up into a different kind of time and space, it is not a self-contained

vacuum. After all, we are people sitting here, and people are bodily creatures who think, move, and act in accordance with their desires. So if those desires have been shaped in a certain way over time in a worship setting such as this, then one cannot help but leave here a different kind of agent in this world. One will start to love the things God loves. Around here, we call that kind of person a liturgical agent.

Well, there is one such liturgical agent sitting here today whom we would like to recognize and thank. Fr. Colin you have led us back to this place time and again. And because of that, our lives have been transformed. Not influenced. Not slightly altered. Transformed! How does one avoid getting sentimental here? After all, Fr. Colin is one of the least sentimental people I know (at least, ostensibly). So without throwing too many

superlatives at him (that’s an inside joke), I thought we might retell a few Colinisms:

“Major in the majors, minor in the minors.”

“God has plenty of money.”“Eh, it’ll all come out in the wash.”“Well, you don’t need it.”“Behold, the Lamb of God!”

That last one was, of course, a reference to Concrete. And if Colin is uncomfortable being in the spotlight here, I’m about to give him some company.

The worst is trying to help somebody that’s trying to kill you

(continued on p. 7)



You see we can’t laud Colin without recognizing his friendship with Crete.

Fr. Colin began a friendship with "Crete" up at St. Joseph's around 9 or 10 years ago. While still in grad school, Colin prayed the Daily Office at St. Joe's, and as a result, the church's prayers led him to get to know some of the homeless folks hanging out around the church. Concrete, who has a rather hard-looking exterior, surprised Colin with his extreme generosity, selfless spirit, and cryptic but prophetic language. In the years since, many of us have also become friends with Concrete. We refer to him as the "Saint" or the "Lamb of God" because of the way he mediates the charity of Christ to all of us. Crete is someone who will fold your laundry for you without you ever knowing he did it (I've caught him in the act, though, several times). Beyond that, he always reminds us that we remain stuck in a system that constantly tries to "kill him" in dubious ways. It's no exaggeration to say Concrete has been the central figure of the CFW for the past eight years.

Well, because we are moving out to the farm, Crete has chosen to stay in Durham. This is mostly because he's lived in Durham his whole life and he has friends and relationships here that stretch far beyond the CFW. For me personally, losing Concrete as a housemate is a tremendous sadness, but I also know that God's abundance stretches far beyond the walls of the Maurin House, both for me and for Concrete. We will remain life-long friends.

Colin, you have taught us that what we do around here, as quaint as it may seem to an outsider, is no less than fighting the demons of our modern world. Related to that, but more importantly, your prayer and worship has given you the eyes to see Concrete, and to behold him as the “Lamb of God.” In so doing, you have invited us into those same rhythms of worship, and, consequently, to share a friendship with Concrete. For that, we are all deeply grateful!

Last night I overheard Crete say, “The worst is trying to help somebody that’s trying to kill you.” Well, as we all know, that’s a reference both

to his other homeless friends as well as to those of us privileged folk whose souls Crete is trying to save. It is a sobering statement because it keeps us from thinking we have finally made it in holiness. Far from the truth! We have only just begun to recognize the depth of our violence to the poor. And yet, Crete’s line is also a great comfort, for even though we participate in a world that blindly walks all over someone like him, he has not given up loving the world and those of us in it.

“The worst is trying to help somebody that’s trying to kill you.”

That line, full of indictment and grace, might just as well have been uttered by the Son of God on a Friday long ago. Or, it might fit well with our Gospel reading this morning, “My house shall be a house of prayer, but you have made it a den of thieves.” This house may still hold a den of thieves—each of us in their own way—but hopefully, we’ve learned a little something about prayer along the way. Our worship has helped us see Christ in Concrete. Crete has helped us see Christ in our every day lives. And so, at the end of each evening at Compline we can honestly say the words, “Lord, you now have set your servant free to go in peace as you have promised; For these eyes of mine have seen the Savior, whom you have prepared for all the world to see.”

Colin, thank you for helping us to see. As a token of our deep gratitude we are giving you an Icon of Mary and Jesus. May it remind you of the many lives who have been nurtured in this place. You may never become a New Testament professor, but that’s okay. Your leading us here is a far greater legacy. Our lives will never be the same!

With that, let’s end with a little CFW tradition as we raise the chalice one last time.

To the King! And God save the Queen. Hail Mary…

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.+



What the Unemployed Need1. The unemployed

need free rent;they can have thaton a Farming Commune.

2. The unemployedneed free food;they can raise thaton a Farming Commune.

3. The unemployedneed free fuel;they can cut thaton a Farming Commune.

4. The unemployedneed to acquire skill;they can do thaton a Farming Commune.

5. The unemployedneed to improvetheir minds;they can do thaton a Farming Commune.

6. The unemployedneed spiritual guidance;they can have thaton a Farming Commune.

By Kelly Steele

What the Catholic Worker Believes

1. The Catholic Worker believesin the gentle personalismof traditional Catholicism.

2. The Catholic Worker believesin the personal obligationof looking afterthe needs of our brother.

3. The Catholic Worker believesin the daily practiceof the Works of Mercy.

4. The Catholic Worker believesin Houses of Hospitalityfor the immediate reliefof those who are in need.

5. The Catholic Worker believesin the establishmentof Farming Communeswhere each one worksaccording to his abilityand gets according to his need.

6. The Catholic Worker believesin creating a new societywithin the shell of the oldwith the philosophy of the new,which is not a new philosophybut a very old philosophy,a philosophy so oldthat is looks like new.

Easy Essaysby Peter Maurin (1877-1949)Founder of the Catholic Worker



Peter is proud of being a peasant and calls attention to it. “My word is tradition,” he says. He looks as though he were rooted to the ground, gnarled, strong, weatherbeaten as he is. He reminds me of a tree trunk, of a rock. His shoulders are broad, he has a chest like a barrel, his head is square and so is his face.

“A man has a mission, a calling, a vocation,” he says. “We must get people away from being job-minded, wage-minded. A man must find out the work he is best fitted to do in the world, and then do it as best he can, single-mindedly. An artist does this. A musician does this. They are willing to accept voluntary poverty as the cost of their freedom to follow their call. Of course, if man were human to man, he would take care of his brother who had a call that did not bring him in the necessities of life. A priest, a sister, are taken care of in their work. The layman says,”They have security." Yes, they have the security which comes with community. But it is not always so. St. Paul maintained himself by the labor of his hands; he was a tentmaker. Just the same, he said, “The laborer is worthy of his hire.” All the apostles emphasized hospitality, generosity one to another. They immediately began serving one another, serving the poor, serving those who gave up all to follow Christ. They were so busy they had to appoint deacons right away to do these works of mercy.

“No, they do not always have security. Look at the missions, and the work priests do with nothing but their bare hands. Look at the missions set up in this country by the Franciscans, the Jesuits. Look at the foundations of the sisters. Look at the Benedictine monasteries, the Trappist monasteries. They started work with usually the worst kind of soil. They took deep woods, swamps, the places no one else wanted. Read about St. Bernard and his work, how he took a dozen warriors away from the siege of a city and built

up a foundation in the wilderness. Of course they went hungry at first. They had no security until they made it with their labor and suffering.

“In time of chaos and persecution, men escape to the desert. One of the fathers of the desert, Abbot Allois, said, ‘A man cannot find true repose or satisfaction in this life unless he reckons that there is only God and himself in the world.’ That’s personalism. On the other hand, ‘With our neighbor,’ St. Anthony

says, ‘is life and death.’ He was another desert father, and he was a communitarian. He started the foundation of monasteries, he and St. Basil, who wrote the first rule. Then St. Benedict came along and his rule is still being used by tens of thousands of monks all over the world. You can buy a copy of the rule at Brentano’s or at Barnes and Noble’s, on Fifth Avenue, or at the book stores on Barclay St. This rule, written thirteen hundred years ago, is still animating the lives of men. And it was a rule, written not for priests, but for laymen. Of course now it is used by priests and lay brothers, but why cannot it be used by the

family? It is indeed used by Benedictine oblates who are living a Christian life in the world. But so far, it has never been used by groups of families living together.”

To bring back the communal aspects of Christianity, this is part of Peter’s great mission. “A heresy comes about,” he said, “because people have neglected one aspect of the truth, or distorted it. Communism is just such a heresy. We have neglected the communal aspect of Christianity, we have even denied that property was proper to man. We have allowed property to accumulate in the hands of the few, and so a denial of private property has come about, ostensibly for the sake of the common good. St. Thomas says a certain amount of goods is necessary to lead a good life.”

A Selection from Farming Communesby Dorothy Day (1897-1980)Founder of the Catholic Worker

Reprinted from The Catholic Worker newspaper, February 1944

(continued on p. 10)



Once when some Quaker friends came to visit us at the farming commune at Easton, they told us we had two great assets in our work on the farm: one, our poverty, and two, our lack of leadership. We were much startled to hear this and much encouraged. It is true that our poverty should force us to use the means at hand, whether it be stone or earth for houses, if there is lacking wood. It is true our poverty should force us to work for food and clothing. It is true that when there is no educated, strong, and spiritual leadership, each man has to depend on himself.

Perhaps they were thinking of various Quaker and socialistic experiments of the past where wealth made things easy so that the poor did not exert themselves, and good leadership made the rank and file lean too heavily and depend too much on one man. So that when both funds and leadership were withdrawn, there was little hope for continuance of communities working together, and every man would be on his own again. “Too little indoctrination,” Peter says.

But our Quaker visitors were not right. We did not have enough voluntary poverty. While professing poverty to the extent of going without salary, wearing cast-off clothes, sleeping in vermin-ridden and cold tenements,–still we clung to such comforts as the food we liked, the cigarettes we craved, magazines, newspapers, movies–the artificial tastes and desires built up in us by modern advertisers.

The issue of food is an important one, what with our running breadlines all over the country, and spending a great amount of money, running into tens of thousands of dollars, on food alone. Peter remarked succinctly, “Eat what you raise, and raise what you eat, on farming communes.”

Given more land, we could raise pigs and corn and wheat on the soil we had at Easton, not to speak of cows, goats, and chickens, rabbits and bees. Such a principle would allow us bacon and ham, corn and wheat bread, honey, dairy products, fowl and eggs, and all the vegetables we could raise.

But to raise the food it was necessary to work, and those who were boss-minded and job-minded and were used to the cities, had a hard time adjusting themselves to work at the land’s pace, and at the hours required by the seasons. The more people there were around, the less got done. Some cooked, washed dishes, carpentered, worked in the garden and tended the animals. But none worked hard enough. No one worked as I have seen sisters and brothers in monasteries work.

Food was the greatest trouble. You could not eat the brood sow, nor could you eat the pig you were fattening for slaughter later. You could not eat the chicks, nor did they begin to lay eggs at once. Cows eat much feed and do not give much milk at some seasons. You could not fatten the calf and eat it and still have the money for tools and seed.

So to make any beginning, without subsidies of any kind, voluntary poverty and asceticism of a kind were needed. One could of course live on bread and vegetables and oil or fat and wine. We had to rule out the latter at once because there were too many amongst us with a weakness, and St. Paul says to do without what causes your brother to stumble. So that brought us down to bread, fats and vegetables. And there were plenty of fruits in the summer. But most of us could not do without our tea and coffee. And the bread had to be a certain kind of bread, and the cereal a certain kind of cereal.

Corn meal mush was fit only for chickens! The yellow fresh-ground corn meal was too coarse for human consumption! When I was traveling throughout California visiting migrant camps, I saw the southerners who were staying in the government camp use the corn meal to make a paste to stop up the drafts around the floors of their ugly shanties.

The mother of one of the families on the farm made bread for all who lived on the farm, but there were those who could not eat it because it was not like store bread!

And the same family that made the bread would not use anything but refined white flour, because the children would not eat whole wheat.

(continued on p. 11)



Peter inveighed against packaged foods and canned goods, but those who came to us were not hermits and ascetics,–they were the poor and the bourgeois of a rich country, the poor who were used to some form of relief, the poor who with their pennies bought liquor and store foods, canned and packaged goods, because they didn’t know anything about cooking, nor about foods. They did not like fish, they did not like liver and kidneys nor anything but the red meat of an animal. They did not like salads or greens (fit for cows). And most certainly they did not like either whole wheat bread or corn meal mush.

Let me lay the blame where it belongs, and that is on the women, first of all, nor do I think I am being faithless to my sex in so saying. It was not the women who did the cooking in our houses of hospitality and our farming communes. It was the men. They did what they could, with the materials they were used to. But the result was that more time was spent in complaining about food, or doing without food, or spending money on food that should have been used to better purpose in building up the community.

Perhaps, having so nobly taken the blame on my own sex, we can put some of it on Peter too.He was always willing, for the sake of making his point, to sacrifice order and success. He was always

afraid of the argument of the pragmatist.“Be what you want the other fellow to be,” he kept on saying. “Don’t criticize what is not being done. See

what there is to do, fit yourself to do it, then do it. Find the work you can perform, fit yourself to perform it, and then do it.”

It was not that he did not know how things ought to be, so that he could have said, “do this, do that.” His own life showed how he thought things ought to be.

“Everyone taking less, so that others can have more.”“The worker a scholar, and the scholar a worker.”“Each being the servant of all; each taking the least place.”“A leader leading by example as well as by word.”When Peter was asked questions, he answered them if he felt strongly enough about it. If the question

was too obvious, if he felt that it was not in his sphere of ethics and morality, he said, “I am not a question box.” One question he always answered.

“I do not believe in majority rule. I do not believe in having meetings and elections. Then there would be confusion worse confounded, with lobbying, electioneering and people divided into factions.”

No, the ideal rule was such as that of the monasteries, with an abbot and subjects. An abbot accepted by others and his authority obeyed with a perfect obedience. An abbot making the decisions, after accepting counsel of all, the youngest with the oldest.

But a farming commune, an agronomic university, was not a monastery. It should be a gathering together of families, a group of teachers whose authority was accepted, each in his own field. A baker would have charge of the bakery, the shoemaker of the shoes, the farmer of the fields, the carpenter of building.

But what if the baker makes white bread? What if the carpenter refused to use the materials God sends in the way of logs or second-hand lumber, and will not work except with the best and most expensive, and according to government specifications?

Well, they are not educated to be leaders. The work of education comes first. The work of education will be long. Meanwhile we learn by our mistakes. We learn the hard way. But is there any other way? And what if there are no leaders to direct the others?

We must build up leaders. And the leaders must first of all change themselves. And the job is so hard, so gigantic in this our day of chaos, that there is only one motive that can make it possible for us to live in hope,–that motive, love of God. There is a natural love for our fellow human being but that does not endure unless it is animated by the love of God. And even the love of family cannot endure without the love of God.

And if we do not live in love we are dead indeed, and there is no life in us.“Do you ever become discouraged when you see our failures?” I asked Peter.“No, because I know how deep-rooted the evil is. I am a radical and know that we must get down to the

roots of the evil.” And the gentle smile he turned on me was as though he said, “Wherefore lift up the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees, and make straight steps and follow peace with all men” (Hebrews 12:12-14).+



Panhandling and Community NewsJoe Sroka - Catholic Worker, CFW, Pittsboro, NC

Until our next child is born, the big news this month is our move to Granite Springs Farm. Moving day would not have been possible without the Bruderhofs, the Millers, Bill, Teri, Sawyer, Phil, Celeste, and Nicole. At the time of this printing, we have been at the farm for two weeks and it has been more than we could have imagined. We’ve been noticing that our life these days looks a lot like “pray, eat, work,” a spoof of the recent memoir Eat, Pray, Love.

First, our prayer life in a new chapel with new people is different. We no longer have the daily celebration of the Holy Eucharist to sustain and discipline our lives. We are, though, continuing the habit that many of you have taught us - regular, public recitation of the Daily Office. Morning Prayer, Noonday, Evening Prayer, and Compline frame our days. And with less people at the farm than were in the city, we have to put forth more personal responsibility to attend to the Lord in this way.

All of us around the community are used to eating often with each other. However, the farm has increased the frequency of our household meals. For two weeks now, we have been sharing together no less than two meals per day. It used to be that in the city that many of us were drawn to other places and other people for our meals. At the farm, all we have is each other. And to be exact, “each other” is ten of us. Three guys from the Maurin House and one from St. Joseph’s came out to the farm.

Another welcome but unexpected change at the farm is the work. An organic farm simply presents lots of opportunities for good, manual labor. The first week we were here we raked the leaves in the yard. This not only cleaned up the front and back of the house but, once we shredded the leaves, we have the beginnings of our mulch supply for spring planting. Not much is wasted at the farm. Leaves become mulch, our organic food scraps become compost, and lest we forget how we are warmed in the winter, downed trees become our heat source twice. Once while gathering, cutting, and splitting the wood, and again when the wood is burned in the house’s stove and boiler. Our common life is tied to the land we live on in new and holistic ways. In fact, we’ve yet to discuss responsibilities and chores, because the guys have jumped right into eating and working, even heading outside early each morning to see what they might participate in doing. It’s only been two weeks, but because of so much shared experience at the farm, we look more like a monastery or family than we ever have in the past.

We think that what is happening with the CFW at the farm is no small miracle. We are grateful to our friends who are making it possible. We beg for your charity to fund this grand experiment. Between the ten of us, 2 ¼ have some form of outside paying employment. The rest of us are usefully unemployed at the farm and depend on your generosity. All of us, now, depend on the land to sustain ourselves. If you would like your financial contribution to be credited to 2015, please postmark by December 31.+

BOOKS WE’VE BEEN READING

Emma, Jane AustenThe Rule of St. Benedict

Cavell, Companionship, and Christian Theology, Peter DulaLiving Gently in a Violent World, Stanley Hauerwas and

Jean VanierRivers North of the Future, Ivan Illich as told to David

CayleyMinding the Modern, Thomas Pfau

Family Friendly Farming, Joel Salatin



Editors

Dr. Crystal Hambley Joe SrokaTyler Hambley Michelle Sroka

Fr. Mac Stewart

Weekly ScheduleAt Granite Springs Farm

(266 Granite Springs, Pittsboro)

Morning Prayer and Breakfast: 7:00 am Tues-FriNoonday Prayer: 12:00 noon Tues-Fri

Evening Prayer*: 5:30 pm Tues-FriEvensong and Supper: 5:30 pm Friday

Compline: 8:00 pm Fri

Saturday workdays and prayers as announced.

*Evensong on Holy Days and other Major Feasts.

Donate These Things!

Twin bed frame and mattress (3)Milk and Cereal

Plumbing/carpentry helpCoffee

Laundry detergentDish soap

Toilet paper13-gallon trash bags

Grocery cardsWheat sandwich bread

Contact UsThe best way to get involved is to come to the Daily Office at the Farm, Tuesday through Friday at 7:00am and 5:30pm.


The Corporal Works of Mercy To feed the hungry

To give drink to the thirsty To clothe the naked

To harbor the harborless To visit the sick

To ransom the captive To bury the dead

The Spiritual Works of Mercy To instruct the uninformed

To counsel the doubtful To admonish sinners

To bear wrongs patiently To forgive offenses willingly

To comfort the afflicted To pray for the living and the dead

266 Granite SpringsPittsboro, NC 27312

cfw.dionc.org

The Community of the Franciscan Way

The Little Way is the regular publication of The Community of the Franciscan Way, a Catholic Worker and Mission of the Episcopal Diocese of North Carolina. We seek a life of prayer, humility, simplicity, and voluntary poverty alongside the poor. Committed to the Catholic Worker movement, founded in 1933 by Peter Maurin and Dorothy Day, we advocate for personalism, a decentralized society, and a green revolution through nonviolence, the works of mercy, manual labor, and voluntary poverty. Ten permanent residents currently live in our Catholic Worker House. Funds and donations are directly used for the performance of the corporeal and spiritual works of mercy, and no one in the Community draws any compensation from contributions.

At the Bruderhof’s Carol Sing.Moving Day Crew.

http://cfw.dionc.org

http://cfw.dionc.org

2015.5 little way christmas

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