Technology and the Sabbath

 

We’ve learned that to be perpetually connected is to be perpetually distracted: Rabbi David B. Cohen, Congregation Sinai, Yom Kippur  2010

   Two lifelong buddies have traveled together, apart from their wives, every year for more than half a century of increasingly exotic outings. For their latest adventure, they decide on an ice-fishing trip to the Upper Peninsula. Late one very cold winter night, the two men tromp out onto the ice, loaded with gear. Just as they start to cut a hole for fishing, a voice booms out in the dark, “Don’t cut the ice!” Startled, one guy says to the other, “We’ve had too much to drink.” As they bend over to resume, the voice commands a second time, “Don’t cut the ice!” Once again they decide their imaginations are playing tricks on them. So they take up the saw, but for the third time the voice thunders, “Don’t cut the ice!” At that, one of the men peers up into the darkness and asks, “Is that you, God?” “No,” comes the reply, “It’s the rink manager.” Personally, I prefer to spend my time in Northern climes during the summer. My location of choice is Mount Desert Island, Maine, home of Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park. It’s a pristine setting, rocks meeting the sea, inland lakes surrounded by tall fir trees and mountains sculpted during the last ice age.  What Mount Desert Island doesn’t have is decent cell phone coverage or broadband Internet access. Well, that’s not entirely true; there’s WIFI at the public library, but it’s not close by. For us, going to Maine is a time to spend time differently, to read books, ride bicycles, play cards, go hiking, in short, to explore and experience.  I don’t want to over romanticize – we do, in fact, recreate some of the chaos of our lives here – our kids are overprogrammed and require lots of driving around; we’re constantly make plans with family and friends; but still, we try to live life without the electronic screen. In a sense it’s a lot of what we don’t get here. Here we have no time to ourselves, no time to think, to contemplate, to regroup. There we do.  The promise of technology was that it would save us time by automating routine tasks, like paying bills. It would keep us better connected with friends and loved ones. And it has done those things – just ask any grandparent who Skypes with grandchildren across the country. Without recent advances in technology our lives would be impoverished in many ways.  Yet, as technology kept its promise to keep us connected to each other, to our workplaces, to libraries, data banks, e-commerce, there were some unanticipated costs. The problem of technology is summed up in a television ad with Jerry Seinfeld and Bill Gates. Jerry says, “Bill, you’ve connected over a billion people. What’s next?” The screen goes black and two words stand out in brilliant white: “Perpetually Connected.” Being perpetually connected must have sounded like a good idea, at least in some ad agency, but we have come to learn being perpetually connected comes with some very real human costs. 

 • An opinion piece in the Wall Street Journal decries the loss of productivity as workers are distracted on average every three minutes by texts and email. With no small irony, this article appears on the web site flanked by an advertisement for the Journal’s newest electronic feature: STAY CONNECTED 24/7VIA EMAIL NEWSLETTERS AND ALERTS... FREE REGISTRATION SIGN UP TODAY • How many text messages do you think teenagers send a month? Those of you who made the mistake of not getting unlimited texting plans can probably answer. Teenagers now send an average of 2272 texts a month, twice the amount they sent last year. •  It’s hard for parents to convince their children to stay away from the screen when we ourselves can't go 20 minutes without checking our smart phones. • Author Stephen King said it was when he realized he was spending "almost half of each day's consciousness" facing screens that he decided to cut back. He said: "I don't think any man or woman on his or her death bed ever wished he or she had spent more time sending instant messages.” • And what about the content of those instant messages? Television writer and producer Bill Persky wrote an Op-Ed piece entitled “We’re Killing Communication” in which he complained that the new technology had brought him friends he didn't need and updates about their lives be didn't want, such as, "eating leftover lasagna" and "getting a colonoscopy.”

 Perpetually connected. Does this describe you?  Do you need to have the cell phone at arms reach? Do you automatically check email every five minutes?  Do you respond to email, even when you are on vacation, even when the recipient has already gotten a message saying you are on vacation and cant return the call? When you’re on vacation, is hotel WIFI access a deal breaker? You, my friend, are perpetually connected. Forget about wasting time – after all faddish pursuits have always been with us – but consider the glut of information you receive that you don’t need or want. Think about it: Fifteen years ago, did anyone use the phrase, “TMI”, too much information?  Don’t get me wrong. I am no luddite; I love technology, I am what they call an early adopter, acquiring the latest gadgets and refusing to read to manual. Yet, in the embrace of technology, I recognize a very real dilemma. What we have gained in broad-band’s breadth, we have lost in human depth. Our connected lives ensnare us so completely that we rarely have time to think, to contemplate, to reflect. We are losing depth in thought and feeling and relationships. And there’s the irony: we may be perpetually connected to the crowd, but the closer we get to the crowd, the further we recede from those closest to us, the more we lose touch with our own souls. 

    In short, being perpetually connected means our public life with the crowd overshadows our interior, private lives. We may have hundreds of facebook friends, but not many know us well.  We are not the first generation to deal with this crisis. Over the past few thousand years, periods of rapid technological change have upset the balance between people’s public social lives and their private, interior lives. What’s more, in every generation, seminal figures arose to provide strategies for reasserting the balance between public and private lives.  In his book, “Hamlet’s Blackberry”, William Powers describes the way influential thinkers negotiated periods of rapid technological change. I want to share some of their stories with you today, that we might glean from both western historical models, as well as Jewish models, a way to balance our public and our private lives.  Powers begins with the assumption that by virtue of our being perpetually connected, we are always in the midst of a crowd. From a Jewish perspective, being in the crowd has its advantages; after all, it is through relationships that we affect change in the world, and even come to know God.  But when does the crowd become too big? For Plato, twenty five hundred years ago, the growth of Athens as an urban center was a boon to philosophers who enjoyed the rhetorical give and take. Yet, he found that the crowd was oppressive, robbing him of time to think and reflect. He increasingly sought to be outside of the city, eventually establishing his academy in the country. Imposing distance allowed Plato to make the most of life in an increasingly, crowded, busy society. It allowed him to fulfill his teacher Socrates’ goal: Give me beauty in my inner soul; and may the outward and inward man be at one.” Plato’s dilemma remains with us today in our perpetual connectedness; no matter where we go, if there’s a cell phone in our pocket, the crowd is always with us. A Jewish teacher suggests a way to escape. Rabbi Nachman of Bratzlav was a practioner of hitbodedut, of wandering outside in the country, thinking, meditating, reflecting, deliberating. Like the Biblical Isaac, who conversed with God in his late afternoon walks in the fields, Nachman found a different kind of connectedness, not with his fellow man, but with the heart of the Universe.  Five hundred years after Plato, the poet and Roman statesman Seneca encountered a different imbalance between the public and private spheres. Leaving the city, as Plato had, didn’t solve Seneca’s problem. As Seneca himself put it: “The man who spends his time choosing one resort after another in a hunt for peace and quiet, will in every place he visits find something to prevent him from relaxing.” The solution for Seneca was to narrow his focus from the crowd to the individual. He accomplished this most often through writing letters. Seneca found the writing of a letter as a place to have a private, reflective, moment.  Through this he found “inner distance” a way to remove himself from his surroundings, to have an audience of one.

   In his own way, Seneca was creating the conditions for what Martin Buber, two thousand years later, would call an “I-Thou” relationship. Rather than relating to those around us as instruments to fulfill our own needs, Buber suggested that beyond such utilitarian relationships are truer, more authentic, relationships that obtain when two souls connect, through the medium of God. Like Buber, Seneca aimed to reclaim a quality of presence in the world. And he wanted to do it through relationships with others.  Fifteen hundred years later, Gutenberg ushered in a period of transformative technological change, the creation of the printing press. We most often think of his invention as the beginning of an information revolution, the widespread dissemination of information that had heretofore been held by a chosen few. Yet, the printing press was an essential technology of inwardness. Before its invention, reading was a public activity. People didn’t read to themselves. Instead, public readings were the norm. Now, however, people could have a personal relationship with a text Reading became an immersive experience. As Poet Willliam Stafford put it: “Closing the book, I find I have left my head inside.” Our era of perpetual connectedness has made reading a complicated business. It began with the hyperlinking of text, when certain words in electronic documents appear in the color blue, indicating that if you click on that work, you’ll be instantly transported elsewhere to learn more in depth about that topic. As a research tool, hyperlinks are a Godsend, making quick work of what used to take hours of research. But it also makes reading a less linear experience. Endless diversions appear in the text. What’s more, the recent batch of e-readers, like the Kindle or the Ipad increasingly are bundled with software that enables users to surf the web during the course of reading, toggling between sports, weather, news, email, and oh yes, the book they were reading. Why is this a problem? There’s a difference between access to information and the experience of it. Technology that encourages multitasking while reading encourages access to the detriment of experience.  For Jews, reading Torah is the way we commune with God, learn from our people’s experience, and access their wisdom. the concept of hyperlinking text derives directly from the rabbis’ habit of comparing words and phrases from one holy book to the next. Yet, experiencing the life of literature requires uninterrupted attention to narrative. Sports scores and weather maps can only detract from that experience.  Society, has on occasion, resisted technological advances. Author William Powers describes his own recent infatuation with moleskin writing pads, a decidedly low tech way to take notes. In his book, Hamlet’s Blackberry, he describes how Shakespeare gave his character a set of tables, which were erasable writing pads on which Hamlet took notes – in one case to remember to avenge his father’s murder most foul. An advance over the wax tablets that had been in vogue for centuries, Hamlet’s table was a small notebook of specially coated paper that could be erased and reused. The technology was so popular even Thomas Jefferson owned one. It was portable, and allowed the used to preserve just the information she needed, and nothing more.  Hamlet’s table undercuts a widely held assumption: that when new technology comes along it immediately supersedes what came before. In fact, some times the opposite occurs. Older technology enjoys a resurgence. When Gutenberg’s press made books commonplace, the common man was inspired to write, but lacking a printing press of his own, turned to older technology – handwriting. Enthusiasm for writing led to the creation of pencils and fountain pens. Witness the more current locovore and slow food movement, both of which eschew modern food production for more traditional methods.  And sometimes, it turns out the older methods are better than the latest technology. A few winters ago, Conde Nast Traveler magazine sent out three reporters to Moscow, one equipped with a blackberry, one with an iphone, and one with a hard copy guidebook. They were given a series of tourist challenges to complete in the frigid metropolis, such as finding a great cheap restaurant, and locating a pharmacy open at midnight. The low-tech contestant won. After the article ran, one reader wrote in: “I have traveled successfully around the world armed with nothing more than a dog eared guidebook and a friendly smile… As any seasoned traveler will tell you, the kindness of strangers can be relied upon anywhere. Just don’t be too absorbed in your blackberry to notice.” The promise and problems of technology: • Plato’s retreat from the city of Athens enabled him to balance his public and private lives, so that the outward and inward might be at one.”

 • Rabbi Nachman of Bratzlav’s practiced hitbodedut, wandering in the field, reflecting, meditating, deliberating, renewing his inner dialogue;

 • Seneca realized that writing was a way to establish an authentic relationship with another;

• Martin Buber’s identified the ideal I-Thou relationship.  His aim, like Senecas’s, to reclaim a quality of presence in the world.

• Gutenberg brought the interior experience of reading to the masses; 

• Shakespeare illustrated how the old tools are sometimes the best; 

 And what about today? How can we overcome technology’s persistent tendency to throw our public and private lives into imbalance?   The answer is found in the oldest Jewish practice, Shabbat. Shabbat is the Jewish antidote to civilization. It is the insistence that to be fully human, we have to regularly break our routine and concentrate on the essentials. 

 • To rediscover Solitude – establish distance between ourselves and the bustling world.

 • To restore Mindfulness – pay attention to the world around us.

• To restore interior life – pay attention to the world within us.

• And to restore relationships – Reclaim a quality of presence in the world. 

 So try an experiment this week. Pick one day, perhaps even the Jewish Sabbath, and unplug your modem for 24 hours. If you need to, put a message on your email saying you’re unavailable for a day. See what happens. Tdell people you’re taking a facebook fast.  I promise Shabbat will surprise you. Mark Bittman, food columnist for the NYTimes, wrote about a secular Sabbath he took after he checked his email while on an airplane and realized he was a techno addict. He swore off one day a week and was amazed at the transformation. He wrote: " this achievement is unlike any other in my life."  At first, not having access to google to look up needed information will be annoying. Not being able to check email will be an inconvenience. But little by little, you should notice a change in atmosphere. You’ll be living in the present, able to just be in one place, doing one thing, and enjoying it.  Remember, even God needed to take a day for Shabbat. The Torah tells us that after six days of creation, shavat vayinafash, God took a break. VaYinafash means, and God took a breath. Pretty food advice for us, as well. Ans Vayinafash means something more. The word nefesh means soul. That God, shavat vayinafash means that in taking a breath, in breaking routine, God’s soul was strengthened and enriched.  In this new year, 5771, may we be inscribed for a year of spiritual renewal, perhaps by: 

• Unplugging just one day a week; 

• Rediscovering Solitude • Restoring Mindfulness 

• Reinvigorating our interior life 

• And restoring our relationships That our presence might be a source of enduring blessing to the world.

Amen

The Working Catholic: Media and Meaning, Part I by Bill Droel

      There is a serious downside to use of computers and mobile devices, according to recent medical and social science reports. Several essays and books likewise point to the danger. Nonetheless concerned parents or stressed-out workers still reach superficial or incorrect conclusions about the internet and tech devices. For example, some well-meaning people say internet problems are due strictly to content. Don’t view porn and other trash, they continue, and you will be OK.

To better understand the influence of technology, learn something about the founders of some important companies—their philosophy, the culture of their businesses and more.

It feels odd to distinguish between the old internet and the new internet. The old internet was a tool for the military and for research facilities. As it grew, the internet had a populist aura. The feeling was that the internet is a friendly companion, a community, an extended family of pioneers. That language is still around but it does not apply to the new internet. By about 1995 the internet had become fully commercial. Yes, the content of the internet ranges over every taste, perspective and interest. But it is largely controlled by a small number of companies. The big players in today’s internet business oppose ideas of democracy and communal decentralization, writes Jonathan Taplin in Move Fast and Break Things (Little Brown, 2017). “The dominant philosophy of Silicon Valley [is] based far more heavily on radical libertarian ideology.”

Modernity (which dates from 1500, let’s say) remarkably elevates the dignity of each individual. This is a singular achievement. No longer can someone’s career or lifestyle be determined by the caste of one’s parents.  No longer can someone be denied opportunity because of one’s ethnic group or gender. Of course, modernity does not always deliver on its promise. But compared to pre-1500 days, modern individuals enjoy immense freedom. 

Libertarians take the otherwise good notion of a liberated individual to its extreme. They believe that, writes Taplin, attaining one’s individual happiness is the only moral purpose of life. That doesn’t mean that a libertarian walks down the block and knocks over older people in the way. A libertarian might sponsor a youth outing or visit the elderly. Simply that the criteria for any behavior is its potential to reward the individual actor—be it financially, psychologically or even spiritually, when defined in an individualistic way.

The big players of the new internet are moral arbiters each onto him alone (and it is a white male culture). They oppose any universal governance of the internet. They succeed—by their definition of success—because they are free to break the bonds, to go beyond, to be above, to push anything aside in the name of liberty. Taplin says their credo is: “Who will stop me.” The men who created the new internet “believed that they had both the brilliance and the moral fortitude to operate outside the normal strictures of law and taxes” and other restraints. They “truly believe that technology can deliver happiness” by its very nature. Thus critical to the success of the big tech companies “is the ability to maintain the illusion that they are working for the greater good even while pursuing policies that serve only their own needs.” Some tech giants give away money and sponsor anti-poverty programs. It is possible that in doing so some of the tech giants are totally sincere. In fact, for some the illusion is their reality.

 We take the internet for granted; likewise cyberspace, the dish and cable box, mobile devices, apps and programs of all kinds. This technology is our default position. We don’t concern ourselves with the philosophy of the internet’s big owners. We assume the best whenever our mobile device helps us hail a ride or when our computer allows us to post a blog. We take it as obviously correct when Mark Zuckerberg says, “To improve the lives of millions of people [connect them] to the internet.” We hardly consider the downside of Zuckerberg and others promoting a world of isolated individuals who fend for themselves with a lifeline called the internet. We are content enough with the assumption that the way to better health care is through more and faster connections to web-doctors, cyber-insurance plans and computer-linked pharmacies with a drive-up window staffed by a robot. Better education? On-line courses. Better work experience? Robot colleagues. Better sports fandom? Watch the game on one’s own device…at the stadium, no less.

Is tech really an improvement? Or at a minimum a neutral force? A subsequent column will consider tech presumptions in light of Catholic philosophy.

Droel edits INITIATIVES (PO Box 291102, Chicago, IL 60629), a print newsletter on faith and work.

The Working Catholic: See, Judge, Act by Bill Droel

           Mount St. Joseph University in Cincinnati was the setting for a recent conference about young adult Catholics. It was a positive conference because no one complained about bishops, priests or Vatican policy. And no one faulted young adults for disaffection from worship or for their lifestyle. By design, several conference presentations were about bygone people and events. But the event was not a nostalgia trip. The conversation was forward-looking. The tone of the conference was directed outward toward work, family and neighborhood. The participants drew upon past experience, but only to emphasize the importance of listening to the real experience of today’s young adults. The conference was unanimous: Talking is worthless without organizing.

The Cincinnati conference was dedicated to a person who died more than 50 years ago: Cardinal Joseph Cardijn (1882-1967), the originator of the specialized Catholic Action method and the inspiration for several groups (Christian Family Movement, Young Christian Workers, Young Christian Students and more).  The Cardijn method and specialized Catholic Action mostly faded by the late-1960s--at least in the United States. There are Cardijn-inspired groups percolating in Latin America and Africa, conference participants learned. The Cincinnati gathering included representatives from the Republic of Guinea, El Salvador and Chile. Plus, there were representatives from Australia. 

Catholic leaders in the United States want to attract and retain young adults to our faith tradition. They sometimes use the term new evangelization. What Catholic leaders usually mean (and here I employ a big generalization) is attracting young adults into the church. The strategies include social events, vibrant liturgies, reverent pieties, service projects, inspiring talks and more. Many programs for young adult Catholics are worthwhile.

The basic premise for Cardijn was different, however. He did not start from the notion of bringing people into the church. In fact, he worried that young adult ministry can unwittingly reinforce individualism by conveying the impression that the church is separate from young adult environments. Instead, Cardijn and his movements sought to bring Christianity to young adults in their workplaces and schools and family settings. The basic unit is not the individual who searches for meaning or faith. The basic unit is a small group, formed among people who work together or study together or live near one another. Thus, ministry is not something done for young adults; it is done by young adults with an emphasis on their own formation. Like a chorus, participants in Cincinnati repeatedly mentioned public friendship, relationships and the agency of the Holy Spirit.

Success in Cardijn’s method is measured not by how many new people are recruited for parish committees or by how many get involved in liturgical functions. Success is when a Catholic Action group achieves a small improvement in workplace policy or neighborhood relations or school settings.

Several presenters at the Cincinnati conference made the point that talk, talk, talk is not formation. A book club that considers pastoral theology, a speakers’ series during Lent, an intensive RCIA curriculum, a summer theology update program, or a monthly discussion group about Catholic topics is OK. But these do not really form or retain young adults. The secret ingredient is action. Not run-around activity with only vague goals in mind. No, the key is small focused action directed at a subpar policy or practice in the school, neighborhood or workplace. And then… now this must occur… a reflection on the action by the entire small group.

The Cardijn method is a tad sophisticated, yet it can be implemented by ordinary people in workaday settings. It requires patience, but it doesn’t have to be perfect all the time top-to-bottom, beginning-to-end. Katie Sellers, for example, tried a little Cardijn among her high school students at DePaul Cristo Rey in Cincinnati. She was teaching Catholic morality. But the students, Sellers admitted to the conference participants, were snoozing. So she introduced a case study about a woman in jail. Then the students went through the Cardijn steps: Look at this situation carefully; judge the situation in light of our own experience and our Catholic principles; act in some way. Amazingly, the students interviewed lawyers and others in criminal justice, they read Catholic documents, they collected supplies and eventually arranged a tele-meeting with the prisoner. She, in turn, encouraged the students to continue their study and their actions.

Frank Ardito from Illinois, a veteran of Catholic Action, also provided the conference with examples. Sure, he admitted, one or another small group session might fizzle. Maybe the guidebook wasn’t clear that week. Maybe the group leader misinterprets the prevailing mood. But over time the process does form people in the faith. They want to belong to the group and they want to make a difference back in their workplace or school.   

Bob Pennington is a young parent and a teacher. He was responsible for the details of the Cincinnati conference. He has a young colleague in New York and they are in touch with others their age around the country, in addition to some international contacts. They do not intend to put the enthusiasm from their conference back up on a bookshelf. For them, what was past is the prologue. They want more action. Interested? Contact Pennington (robert.pennington@msj.edu).

-Bill Droel edits a print newsletter on faith and work, INITIATIVES (PO Box 291102, Chicago, IL 60629).

THE GUNPOWDER PLOT REVISITED

Remember the 5^th of November

The Gunpowder Plot

It is an event that should not be forgot

   Trump’s nomination of Jesuit-trained Brett Kavanaugh for the Supreme Court is a reminder for me of the 1605 “Gunpowder Plot” in England.  English Roman Catholics attempted to blow up Parliament, the King and his family, with an explosion at Westminster Palace.  They were caught and executed for their attempted crime.

   The conspirators were ready for the interrogation they expected.  Jesuit sympathizers prepared a document on ‘equivocation’ which explained how to lie and then die with a clear conscience.  With the help of confessions, elicited by torture, the conspirators and Jesuit advisors were convicted of treason and executed.  The defeat of the treason plot is celebrated in England on November 5^th, a National Holiday with fireworks, called Guy Fawkes Day. 

   We can expect Jesuit-trained Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh to use the tactic of ‘equivocation’ in his hearing before the Senate. The goal is to deceive with double-meaning statements.  A guide to ‘equivocation’ includes four important points:  Choose ambiguous words; omit information; interplay words and gestures: and employ mental reservation.*

    Common sense would indicate that ‘equivocation’ is sometimes necessary and moral but in Kavanaugh’s case the deception will be Roman Catholic, as defined by the extreme right of the Hierarchy, and be borderline treasonous.  Basic human rights for all is the U.S. American Credo, but Kavanaugh’s writings and statements do not indicate that he stands, without equivocation,  for basic rights for women, gays, workers and freedom of religion.  

    Kavanaugh has indicated that he does not believe that the U.S. President is subject to the law but, as Nixon believed, the President is a law unto himself.  Catholic Social teaching can be twisted to support such fascist views.  Pius XI supported fascist dictators Salazar of Portugal and Dollfuss of Austria.  He had a working relationship with Benito Mussolini and approved a Concordat with Adolf Hitler.  The Concordat removed the Church from Third Reich politics for the guarantee of Roman Catholic Church existence in Germany.  Pope    Pius XII supported Franco the Spanish dictator.*

     In the end, the United State Senate will determine whether Kavanaugh is appointed to  the Supreme Court.  Is it possible, in the “post truth” epoch, for the U.S. Senate to be a light in the Washington dark night of the soul and reject Kavanaugh?

*Shakespeare was fascinated by the Jesuit tactic called equivocation.  See: James Shapiro. 1606: William Shakespeare and the Year of the Lear, Faber & Faber, London, 2015.  Also, the play “Equivocation” by Jesuit Bill Cain with an appearance by Shakespeare himself.

*David I. Kertzer, The Pope and Mussolini, the secret history of Pius XI and the rise of Fascism in Europe. Random House, 2014

The Working Catholic: Forgotten Organizer by Bill Droel

           Most grammar school and high school students encounter Cesar Chavez (1927-1993) in one or another textbook. He is heralded as a pioneer in organizing agricultural workers and as a champion of Mexican-Americans. So in September 1965 who were those farm workers who went on strike and whose action launched a boycott that brought Chavez to national attention? The workers were Filipino-Americans.

        Today’s students and others probably assume that farm worker unions hardly existed until Chavez and others created the National Farm Workers Association in September 1962, writes David Bacon in Dollars & Sense (June/18). Not true. Larry Itliong (1913-1977), a Filipino-American, walked his first picket line in 1930, and even he did not invent farm worker organizing. The United Cannery, Agricultural, Packing and Allied Workers, affiliated with the CIO, was long active in the State of Washington, Alaska and California. Itliong was involved with UCAPAW and in the late 1940s he led strikes among asparagus pickers, Bacon details. In 1959 an Agricultural Workers Organizing Committee was formed in the merged AFL-CIO. In the summer of 1965 Itliong led a successful AWOC strike in the Coachella Valley.

On September 8, 1965 Itliong gathered hundreds of workers into Filipino Community Hall in Delano, California for a vote to strike the area’s grape growers. It was a bold move and Itliong realized he needed help. As is common with ethnic groups, Filipino-Americans and Mexican-Americans did not easily mingle in the community. Plus the two ethnic groups competed for jobs. Yet Itliong approached Chavez to join in the strike. Until then, Chavez was spending his time building the base and lobbying; he had yet to launch any job action; only 200 workers were paying dues to his NFWA. But Chavez realized his opportunity and within two weeks joined forces with the Filipino-Americans. Thus began the now famous Delano Grape Strike and National Boycott. Four flags were prominent in the first demonstration: the U.S. flag of course plus the flag of the Philippines, of Mexico and the flag/banner of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

In time the group’s named was changed to United Farm Workers Organizing Committee and then to United Farm Workers Union (www.ufw.org). Itliong served as an assistant to the new union, including as director of national boycotts.

The efficacy of organizing requires some oiled hinges. For example, on one side there is hyperbole and some boastfulness. On the other there is thoughtful compromise. On one side the organizer agitates hesitant people. On the other side the organizer affirms people, even as they belatedly take small steps. On one side of the door the organizer fosters fierce loyalty within the group, enough to withstand external criticism. On the other side of internal fidelity the organizer must create openness to wider society, a commitment to inclusiveness and dispel tribalism.

On one side the organizer must project confident charismatic qualities to attract busy and creative leaders. On the other side the organizer must stay out of the limelight, nurture collective leadership and dampen personality factions. For Chavez, “loyalty to Chavez” often superseded the development of leaders and the external mission of the organization, as Mirian Pawel details in her sympathetic biography The Crusades of Cesar Chavez (Bloomsbury, 2014). His style was too often arbitrary. In fact, over time Chavez imported the cult-like techniques of Synanon into the UFW. Like all of us, Itliong had faults. But he spoke against Chavez’ authoritarianism. The problem, Chavez replied to Itliong, is that “you won’t obey my orders.” Thus in October 1971, Itliong resigned from UFW.

Organizing farm workers is still difficult. It is probably more difficult than in the mid-1960s. A new strategy, called worker centers, shows promise. These are not unions and cannot directly have labor contracts. This restriction is advantageous in some situations, though worker centers have shortcomings.

The Coalition of Immokalee Workers (www.ciw-online) is the best-known worker center. One-by-one CIW cajoles a major food outlet to join its Fair Food Program. The outlet agrees to purchase only from Fair Food certified vegetable growers. Those growers, in turn, have agreed to pay a couple pennies more to farm workers for each bushel of, let’s say, picked tomatoes. Burger King, Taco Bell and more are participating. The CIW cajoling, you already suspect, includes national boycotts, demonstrations and more.

There are also unions of farm workers. Farm Labor Organizing Committee (www.floc.com), based in Toledo, Ohio and affiliated with AFL-CIO, has a respectable history. Along the turf where Itliong once tread, is recently formed Familias Unidas por la Justicia (www.familiasunidasjusticia.org), an independent union. It brokered a positive relationship between berry pickers and Sakuma Farms. First though Familias Unidas had to wage a national boycott of Driscoll Berries and Haagen-Dazs ice cream—both of whom purchase from Sakuma Farms.

Our National Park Service has a Cesar Chavez Monument in Keene, California. Johnny Itliong, Larry’s son, and others want the Park Service to expand with perhaps a site in Delano, California and to honor Itliong, Filipino-American farm workers and all those who act for agricultural justice.

Droel’s booklet, What Is Social Justice, can be obtained from National Center for the Laity (PO Box 291102, Chicago, IL 60629; $5)

The Working Catholic: Economic Class, Part IV by William Droel

   Go to the barbershop and get a hold of The Atlantic (June/18). Its cover features a baby in a Yale University outfit. Matthew Stewart contributes a 14-page article that gives fresh perspective to our economic scene. In recent years the class divide has been termed the 99% and the 1%. Years ago it was called bourgeois and proletariat. I’ve also heard it called the upper crust and the working stiffs, or the big shots and the rest of us.

The really rich (You-Can’t Touch-This) are the top, top 1/10%. Amazingly, there are only 160,000 households in this category. They currently hold 22% of U.S. wealth—about the same percentage as they held in the 1930s. Stewart’s story is about the next 9.9%. In dollars, it takes $1.2million net worth to enter the 9.9%. To get midway into that group takes $2.4million and its top echelon has $10million in wealth. If you have over $10million sitting around, you are entering the top, top group.

It is tempting to call this 9.9% group the nouveau riche. Stewart explains, however, that those in the 9.9% do not suddenly come into money. Yet, they are a new aristocracy because they inherit important advantages. Specifically, Stewart with fascinating details says those in the 9.9% inherit a model of stable family life and also inherit enough of what it takes (money, connections and more) to obtain a degree.

Stewart, a Princeton-educated philosopher, goes beyond a straight economic analysis to unpack a difficult dynamic. There is a “difference between a social critique and a personal insult,” he writes. But all of us are prone to reject that difference. We do not possess enough objectivity to leave personalities out of it. And even if we grasp the difference, we feign powerlessness over the social reality. Those in the 9.9% justifiably believe they have done something proper by using the institution of marriage. They see their college degree as evidence of intelligence, persistent study, an encouraging family and more. In other words, the 9.9% (like all of us) make the implicit presumption that blameless (moreover virtuous) actions must add up to a good society. It is hard for all of us to grasp that seemingly innocuous behavior can scatter obstacles around society, causing inequality to harden, mobility to stall and democracy to languish.

This point is all the more difficult to make without getting trapped into identity politics, righteousness, resentful feelings, victim posturing or sloganeering. The trap is disguised within many uttered or unexpressed phrases like, “It is my hard-earned money.” “It is your lazy lifestyle.” “The best people get into the best college.” “Don’t act on your privilege.”

Catholicism has a corresponding concept that recognizes that systems can be unjust, even if individuals are well-meaning and blameless on one level. Catholicism says, for example, that poverty is a social sin or a structural evil. This obviously does not mean that being poor is sinful. Nor does it mean that being rich is sinful. (Catholicism by the way has never had the prosperity gospel notion that being rich is a sign of virtue.) Structural sin means that the original aspirations of an institution or a system have greatly departed from God’s plan. A sinful or unjust institution or system makes it harder for people to be holy—poor people and rich people. By contrast, a healthy institution makes it easier for people to be whole and holy.

Catholicism has no better luck at explaining the “difference between a social critique and a personal insult.” A Catholic homilist, for example, almost never mentions racism or sexism. It would be counterproductive because the congregation immediately goes into default position. Catholicism, which is eager to increase participation in the sacrament of reconciliation, has no ritual for dealing with exclusionary school systems, with an unfair wage structure or with closed housing patterns. Who would confess what to whom? And how do any of us make amends?

It is easy to moralize. It is hard to devise realistic change. Start though with Stewart’s Atlantic article. If a 14-page article is too long for one haircut, ask your barber to loan you the magazine for a couple days.

Droel edits a free newsletter on faith and work; INITIATIVES, PO Box 291102, Chicago, IL 60629.

The Working Catholic: Theology of Work by Bill Droel

It was in post-World War II Poland that a positive turn occurred in the theology of work.

For centuries Catholicism, with some important exceptions, gave pride of place to worldly abandonment, including a degree of disdain for normal work. In the prevailing Catholic understanding a saint-worthy spirituality meant intense contemplation which required a retreat from ordinary workaday obligations. This attitude was derived in part from Hellenistic and Gnostic influences. It was also partially a byproduct of too close an association between the church’s princes and royalty. 

 Poland was in ruins following World War II—industries destroyed, cities demolished. During six years of war, over six million people died. Poland, with a long history of aristocracy, was now receptive to a Marxist ideology of work. In this context Cardinal Stefan Wyszynski (1901-1981) wrote a remarkable retreat manual, Duch Pracy Ludzkiej (The Spirit of People’s Work). This relatively unknown book was translated into English in 1960 and published in Dublin, simply titled Work. In 1995 a New Hampshire publisher released it as All You Who Labor and also as Working Your Way into Heaven. This year it appears again in the United States by way of EWTN Publishing in Alabama, titled Sanctify Your Daily Life.

In recent months several U.S. Catholic bishops have launched a program or campaign to revitalize the church in their area. These efforts focus on under-utilized buildings, a relative shortage of clergy, low participation of young adults in liturgy and insufficient funds to maintain important ministries, especially Catholic grammar schools. Wyszynski approaches the revitalization project differently. Instead of starting with the church’s own internal difficulties, he mulls over the rebuilding society by way of a Christian vision of work. (As an aside: The U.S. publishers of Wyszynski’s book reflect our country’s individualistic self-help culture with titles and subtitles like Your Way and Your Life. The original thrust is more about improving society or perhaps the synergy between social renewal and virtuous Christians.)

 To develop his theme Wyszynski must first heave aside a common but mistaken reading of Genesis that says work is a punishment for original sin. “Even before the fall,” he writes, “people had to work, for they had to dress paradise. Work is therefore the duty of people from the first day of life. It is not the result of original sin; it is not a punishment for disobedience.”

Work is participation in God’s ongoing creation. God’s command in Genesis to “fill the earth and subdue it,” is a call to mobilization, Wyszynski writes. “When God announced the summons He saw the earth as it would become through work. God saw [all of us] who would go through the world in submissive service to Him, adding ever more perfection wrought by His power in work, to what God had made.” 

And then Wyszynski gives brilliant insight into a new theology of work. The perfection of things through work perfects the person doing the work, he details. Embedded in the very process of work itself is a prior plan. Workers can find a set of virtues in the work process, varying with the type of work. Thus good work requires that we follow and respect work’s own strict and binding rules. It takes the practice of various virtues to “bring our will into conformity with the laws and techniques of work,” Wyszynski concludes. All work has an interior spiritual aspect.

Wyszynski’s book includes meditations on several work virtues. Work well-done perfects society and each worker. Good intentions or exquisite management theories do not somehow spiritualize shoddy work, much less exploitation.  

In summary: Work serves as a mirror to our true self and to the real character of society. “Without external work, we could not know ourselves fully,” says Wyszynski. In our work “we discover the good and evil in ourselves” and in itself work is a spirituality.

U.S. Catholicism has challenges. Absent a thorough theology of work that relates to real jobs, to actual family life and to neighborhood sidewalks there will be insufficient attraction between Catholicism and young adults. Repositioning parishes and adopting new pastoral language is not enough. A spirituality of work that is accompanied by methods for social improvement has a chance of displacing our culture’s vacuous sloganeering, its impersonal work environments and its mistreatment of so-called economic losers. Is anyone thinking about a U.S. Catholic theology for work? Does anyone have a pastoral program for young workers?

Droel is the editor of Pope John Paul II’s Gospel of Work (National Center for the Laity, PO Box 291102, Chicago, IL 60629; $5). It continues this consideration of Poland’s contribution to work theology.