The Working Catholic: Labor Day by Bill Droel

Two Catholic laymen are credited with starting Labor Day: Matthew McGuire (1855-1917) and, no relation, Peter J. McGuire (1852-1906). Matthew McGuire was a machinist from Paterson, NJ who began factory work at age 14. Throughout the 1880s he was involved in the Knights of Labor, the first successful national union in this country.

Peter McGuire was born in New York City. He moved to St. Louis where he was a carpenter. In 1881 he moved to Chicago and formed the United Brotherhood of Carpenters out of 12 small unions. He eventually became the first secretary of the American Federation of Labor.

In 1882 the two men organized a Knights of Labor parade in New York City. It was repeated in 1883 and 1884. The 1884 parade was the first time the day was called Labor Day. Subsequently, the idea of an official Labor Day caught on in Oregon and then in a few other states. The first Saturday of June was the designated holiday. Soon enough the day was changed to the first Monday in September. Finally in 1894 the U.S. Congress voted to make that day a national holiday.

The relationship between organized labor and U.S. Catholicism has been mutually beneficial. Why not? Until recently, the constituencies were the same.

A key incident occurred in 1887 when Pope Leo XIII held a consistory to commission new cardinals. Among his picks was Archbishop James Gibbons (1834-1921) of Baltimore. A bishop in Quebec had just condemned the Knights of Labor, calling it a secret society akin to the Masons. Vatican officials supported the Canadian decree and were prepared to extend it universally. Gibbons used his opportunity in front of the pope to prevent any such thing from applying in the U.S. Of note: Four years after this consistory, Leo XIII issued the first modern social encyclical, On the Condition of Labor.

The relationship between U.S. Catholicism and organized labor is less prominent these days. Catholic institutions get their donations from suburbia and significantly less from urban immigrants, who were once the base for unions. Also, unions have fewer members than in the past, including fewer Catholics. The relationship is so ignored that here-and-there trustees of Catholic institutions violate our doctrine on labor relations with impunity.

How can U.S. Catholics observe Labor Day, September 7, 2020? First, treat it has a Sabbath. Specifically, don’t shop on Labor Day so that as many workers as possible have an easy day of it. Second, read about Catholic labor doctrine. Start with St. John Paul II’s beautiful meditations on work. (See below.) Third, participate in the liturgy despite the Covid-19 alterations. Praying a portion of the liturgy of the hours at home is recommended. It is equally safe to participate at the live stream Mass on www.catholiclabor.org at 1 PM Central, September 7th. (Prior registration is requested.)

A final word on liturgy. Back in the day I was part of a lobby group to change the feast of St. Joseph the Worker from May 1^st to the first Monday in September—in the U.S. only. The proposal got a fair hearing from several bishops, but the liturgy police in Washington, DC squelched it.

The May 1^st feast was instituted to counter the Communist celebration of May Day or Workers’ Day, which is still observed in some European countries. Ironically, the communists picked that day because of the 1886 Haymarket incident here in Chicago. A rally for an Eight Hour work day turned violent—seven police and four workers died. Eight workers were quickly arrested and seven were convicted. A few of us in Chicago honor this history but it is lost on almost all U.S. Catholics, including those who observe May 1^st as the St. Joseph feast. The U.S. origin of May Day is also, I suspect, lost on those who observe the holiday in Europe.

Droel is the editor of John Paul II’s Gospel of Work (National Center for the Laity, PO Box 291102, Chicago, IL 60629; $8).

The Working Catholic: Turning to Politics by Bill Droel

Young adults are forcing our society to deal with several injustices and tensions. The long neglect is no more. Their protest movements are remarkably strong, even though the young adult leaders mobilize amid a deadly pandemic. The movements are now though at a crossroads. Thus, some of those leaders are studying U.S. history to learn what to do and what not to do next. Bayard Rustin (1912-1987), for example, is for some young adults a source for consideration, particularly his 1964 essay, “From Protest to Politics.”

Rustin was a leader on the original 1941 March on Washington and again at the 1963 March for Jobs and Freedom. He was a founder of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference and involved with the Freedom Rides. Later in life he was instrumental in integrating several unions and went on humanitarian missions to assist refugees. Rustin was a gay rights supporter even before the 1969 Stonewall Uprising. Most substantially, Rustin brought the philosophy of non-violent social action to the civil rights efforts of the 1950s-1960s. He spent time in India and elsewhere studying the applied strategies of Mahatma Gandhi (1869-1948).

 A protest movement, says Rustin, must take a “turn toward political action.” The movement’s fervor must aggregate people “into power units capable of effecting social change.” To counter police brutality, for example, it might be necessary “to get rid of the local sheriff.” During Rustin’s time and in the South, “that meant political action which in turn meant, and still means, political action within the Democratic Party.” Protesters, in this example, must figure out a way to get inside the party’s decision-making—through voter registration, through campaigning for a candidate, by forming a local caucus and more. The turn to power requires getting allies and making compromises.

Rustin is clear that this turn does not mean moderation, which is usually adjusting to the status quo. It is easy and sometimes convenient for those entities that control the current state of affairs to symbolically endorse the spirit of a protest movement without changing power relationships. Those who march for real change could be fooled when, for example, a major sports league (not individual players) or a major technology company endorses the cause in general terms.

The established system knows that the predictable news coverage of a protest soon fades. Then, says Rustin, those protesters who’ve given insufficient attention to political organizing are left “with no forces prepared to move toward radical solutions. From this they conclude that the only viable strategy is shock; above all, the hypocrisy of white liberals must be exposed… They think they can frighten white people into doing the right thing.” Too often for the apolitical protesters “militancy is a matter of posture and volume and not of effect.”

Instead, Rustin concludes, leaders of a protest movement must find ways to institutionalize power through alliances with like-minded groups, including those whose support comes with tradeoffs. “The leader who shrinks from this task reveals not purity, but lack of political sense.”

Back in the day, the phrase “the powerful 2%” meant that only a minority of idealists were involved in the movement. So it is today, though the protesters of 2020 might be the 4%, 10%, 25%. No matter the percentage, they are powerful because, as Rev. Martin Luther King (1929-1968) preached, “though the arc of the moral universe is long it bends toward justice.” Yet, the power of a demonstration, Rustin and others would say, will be sustained to the extent that the protest aims at specific reforms and will be effective if it grows alongside units of power.

Droel is with National Center for the Laity (PO Box 291102, Chicago, IL 60629)

Time on Two Crosses (Cleis Press; $21.95) is a collection of Rustin’s essays.