Compassion is genuine activism for the poor

Published in Cumberland Times-News Wednesday, October 19, 2011.

"Christ tells of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:30-37), who showers mercy on one victimized by thievery and lawlessness. The Samaritan shares his wealth to help, directly where the need is. This genuine activism springs from heartfelt concern and charity."

My Sept. 29 letter (‘Hey, lady! Can you spare me a penny?’) suggests, tongue-in-cheek, that Bill O’Reilly and the president should try panhandling, to test reasonableness of a one percent national sales tax. In response, Adam Robinette (“Just what is an ‘eccentricity,’ anyway?” Oct. 6) defends lifestyles of the homeless and insists that we all should freely hand our cash over to beggars to spend as they wish.

I relate examples of two real panhandlers to illustrate that we should be wary of folks who appeal to our sympathies with intent to part us from our hard-earned cash, and then spend it in questionable ways.

Mr. Robinette points out that beggars threaten us less than armed robbers do. I believe, in the cases of O’Reilly’s suggested tax and the president’s socialistic jobs bill, any initiative to persuade hard-working Americans to forfeit more cash to fund expansive government spending is tantamount to robbery.

Mr. Robinette says Christians should not judge – particularly when giving to beggars for needs unknown.

Jesus does tell us, “Judge not” (Matthew 7:1), in the context that we should not condemn others (as Mr. Robinette does Christians), because we always have work to do on our own souls.

Jesus also advises us to be “wise as serpents” (Matthew 10:16) and discern foes who would deceive and entangle us in ungodliness (Matthew 10:17).

Christians should give alms, discretely and heroically, as the poor widow does (Mark 12:41-44); but as Mr. Robinette admits, money in their hands does not empower beggars to improve their lot. In fact, I believe it can promote disordered lifestyles and, therefore, is not a kindhearted gift.

Similarly, socialism – blatant in the president’s proposal to tax the rich to aid the poor -- is not Christ-like.

Christ brings us God’s help, particularly in hardship (Romans 5:1-11). God’s heavenly aid comforts, guides and provides for us, according to our needs (Matthew 6:25-34); of course, we must do our part to help ourselves.

Socialism presumes we are helpless, and hopeless. It forcibly takes from one and hands to others. It is thievery and lawlessness.

Compassion, on the other hand, in its urge to redeem, exemplifies true love. Christ tells of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:30-37), who showers mercy on one victimized by thievery and lawlessness. The Samaritan shares his wealth to help, directly where the need is. This genuine activism springs from heartfelt concern and charity.

Moreover, through Christ’s apostle Paul, we see that community flourishes when we contribute our God given skills for the common good (1 Corinthians 12:3-14, 20, 27) and when we lovingly share resources -- wisely, as needed, and all for the glory of God (Acts 4:32-37). This is no testament to socialism (or communism), but an example of a generous, faith-filled community.

Jesus required his followers to sell their possessions and give to the poor (Matthew 19:21), not as a command to sustain the poor, but to teach his disciples to shed attachments that would detract from their devotion to his ministry: Exhorting sinners to repent, reform and return to God.

Many religious communities today rely on contributions from benefactors, and require members to embrace poverty. Worldly orthodox Christians, though, as opposed to Christian (or atheist) socialists, believe we each own our earnings, the fruits of our labors, and -- other than taxes levied to build a stable, secure and prosperous nation -- we hold the right to determine how to save, spend or share our resources.

Neither Mr. Robinette, nor the president, has authority to tell us how to help the poor, who will always be with us (Mark 14:7).

About John Mattingly of Mount Savage, Maryland

This information clarifies the identify of John Mattingly of Mount Savage, Maryland as he is referenced in History of St. Patrick Catholic Church in Mount Savage, Maryland, compiled by Nancy E. Thoerig and published by the church in 2004.

Lannie Dietle and Michael McKenzie report in their book In Search of the Turkey Foot Road, edited by Nancy E. Thoerig and a 2011 publication of the Mount Savage Historical Society, "Although we are not students of Mattingly genealogy, it seems likely that the John Mattingly who is cited on page 48 of the 1909 "The Catholic red book of Western Maryland" as being the first Catholic settler in the area at the time of the French and Indian War may not be the same John Mattingly who married Onea Arnold in 1797, and may not be the same John Mattingly who patented lots 3373 and 3374 (the present-day Amanda Paul farm) in 1819."

Dietle and McKenzie expound, "Although Mattingly genealogy is peripheral to this study, we note that Thomas A. Stobie of Overland Park Kansas has written on his genealogy website that John Mattingly, born
1773, was the husband of Onea Honor (Arnold) Mattingly who died in 1823, and was the son of Henry Mattingly, born 1751. According to the 1787 Deakins‘ list, a Henry Mattingly owned lots 3366 and 3367, which were along the present-day Bald Knob Road.

"Barry Thoerig reports that a William R. Mattingly had at one time posted information on the RootsWeb website that indicated that John Mattingly was born June 1, 1773 in Allegany County Maryland, and was married to Onea Honor Arnold who was born March 3, 1776 in the same county. William R. Mattingly also reported that John and Onea had a son Sylvester born on December 17, 1817. (The Maryland Historical Trust Inventory of Historic Properties) indicates that Francis and Sylvester Mattingly inherited the present-day Amanda Paul farm from John Mattingly in 1845, and then Sylvester bought out Francis on September 26, 1846. This information on Sylvester Mattingly indicates that William R. Mattingly was researching the same John Mattingly who once owned the present-day Amanda Paul farm. Sylvester and his wife Ellen are buried in the Saint Patrick‘s Catholic Church Cemetery."

The Turkey Foot Road followed, generally, present-day Maryland State Route 36 from the Narrows in Cumberland to Barrelville, and then through Arnold's Settlement (early Mount Savage), on its way from Fort Cumberland to present-day Pittsburgh, Pennsylvannia, and on to Pickawillany  (present-day Piqua, Ohio).

'Hey, lady! Can you spare me a penny?'

Published in Cumberland Times-News Thursday, September 29, 2011.

"If Bill O’Reilly’s idea of a one percent federal retail tax should materialize, then I would see my investments working for the government and not for me."

In the past couple weeks, after finishing our grocery shopping, my brother, sister-in-law and I – exiting the plaza -- have observed a panhandler with a sign that reads “Jobless. Broke. Hungry.”

I always feel compassion, and a sense of “but for the grace of God, there go I,” along with a smattering of skepticism, when I see someone homeless.

My sister-in-law suggested we give the fellow a granola bar she handily retrieved from the car console, “since he says he’s hungry.” My brother reckoned, though, the beggar would prefer cash.

We ultimately decided against any gift. After all, I said, there are places where he could receive food; and we agreed that likely, judging from his plentiful tattoos, he would squander cash.

I recalled the time I encountered a vagrant outside McDonald’s in Sharpsburg. “Lady, can you spare me some change?” he asked. “No,” I replied, “but come inside, and I’ll buy your breakfast.” “Oh, no,” he said. “I don’t eat here.” (Doubtful, then, I thought, he’d buy food with cash.) “Sorry. I can’t help you,” I told him.

My brother, sister-in-law and I postulated that if this beggar had saved the money he spent on eccentricities, he might have that cash, with interest now, for necessities. Of course, it is possible he changed his ways some time ago and simply has hit hard times. Without family or assistance, many more likely would be on the streets today.

Times are exceedingly tough. We all feel the crunch of stagnant or shrinking incomes, escalating expenses, diminishing returns on investments, and frozen or dwindling savings. We all have to make less do more; austerity is the new norm.

“Suze Orman says,” I quoted to my brother and sister-in-law, “saving has to be more fun than spending.” For me, it is. I buy items on sale and use coupons. If it’s not a deal, then there is no deal.

I did make a few bad spending decisions, one wrong investment turn in my younger days, but I don’t expect any more of those.

I never could afford eccentricities; I always had a hefty monthly health insurance bill that still keeps me strapped. But praise God I’ve had health insurance all these years; without it, I’d be poor, possibly homeless.

Suze says health insurance is a must, to build security, along with investing in stocks. Now, that’s where I get nervous. Investing in a mutual fund, with a financial adviser, is what I consider my past wrong turn. I lost too much. Now my certificates of deposit earn a paltry penny (and less) on the dollar.

If Bill O’Reilly’s idea of a one percent federal retail tax should materialize, then I would see my investments working for the government and not for me.

Suze says if we choose solid stocks that pay dividends, then we can earn up to five percent and keep ahead of inflation – if we invest half our holdings for at least a decade, that is!

I’ve done some courageous things, mostly because I’ve had to; but I could never be that brave.

I might continue to consider, and then re-consider, putting a thousand dollars into a dividend fund, but I won’t make any hasty moves. One percent assured in the bank helps to pay my health insurance.

Perhaps Bill O’Reilly, and the president, would do well to panhandle for pennies and see how many they could collect. My guess is even a one percent tax would be too much for most.

My best life lesson I learned in the garden

Published in Cumberland Times-News Wednesday, August 31, 2011.

"The image of that scene remains in my mind’s eye; and even now, I feel the shift in my thinking that took place at that moment: The overwhelmed child grew a step toward becoming the industrious adult."

In my youth, my parents planted a bountiful vegetable garden. It stretched the 120-foot width of our lower lot, and about a third of the depth. A narrow path on either side bordered our neighbors’ yards and gardens, and across the bottom were woods.

Otherwise in that lot, across the road from our front porch, were a red raspberry patch, two Concord grape arbors, a half-dozen sour cherry trees, three German Prune plum trees, a red currant bush, a Yellow Transparent apple tree, a Winter Banana apple tree, a McIntosh graft on an otherwise generic apple tree, another sprawling apple tree that served best to support my suspended wooden swing, two Chinese chestnut trees, and a black walnut tree. The blossoms in spring were spectacular.

Later, my parents planted two Bartlett pear trees. The pears are delicious. The cherry trees broke to smithereens in an ice storm many winters back. The grape arbors, too, came down decades ago. The chestnuts are beautiful trees, though the fruits are wormy. The McIntosh graft is dead. The swing and its tree are long gone. The banana apple provides good shade now for the nearest neighbor, and fodder for the deer.

As my older siblings moved out, and we no longer needed it, my father seeded the garden in clover -- beloved by groundhogs (who always were troublesome in the garden). The lot serves now as a front yard for my 91-year-old mother and me.

In my younger days, we kept busy spring, summer and fall -- planting, weeding, picking, cleaning, seeding, canning and freezing. We had two sets of shelves in the basement, each four feet wide and six feet tall, spaced to fit quart jars. By summer’s end, we filled them with colorful gems of cherry, raspberry and currant preserves, grape juice and jelly, pitted plums and cherries, tomatoes, green beans, beets, pickles and relish, apple butter and applesauce, and peaches we bought by the bushel from a storehouse in Pinto, Maryland.

In addition to beef bought from my mother’s parents, who raised Black Angus and Charolais, our double chest freezer filled with bags of corn, peas and walnuts. The cabbage, potatoes, lettuce, green peppers, peanuts, onions and yellow squash we used during the season.

I learned my best life lesson from Mom in our garden.

The rows seemed to me, as a youngster, to stretch to infinity; and eyeing the length of the garden from my crouched position weeding, I lamented the magnitude of the job.

“Don’t look at what you’ve got yet to do,” my mother said. “Look at what you’ve gotten done. And keep weeding!”

The image of that scene remains in my mind’s eye; and even now, I feel the shift in my thinking that took place at that moment: The overwhelmed child grew a step toward becoming the industrious adult.

Still, when jobs are big, I draw on Mom’s wisdom at that moment in the garden. Big jobs require time and persistence. The long view comes into focus with completion of each task along the way. Looking back regularly, to appreciate accomplishments, provides motivation and direction. Then, when the job is complete, the satisfaction that comes with hard work and beautiful results makes the investment and diligence worthwhile.

And, in the end, life is like that.

What I learned in the garden that day is, rather than grumble when faced with a big job, or a small task – or life’s challenges -- I praise God for the place, the time, and the ability to do it. And I thank Him for the garden, the lesson, and Mom.

Catholic lifestyle is countercultural today

Published in Cumberland Times-News Tuesday, July 12, 2011.

"Faith, after all, is a way of life. Church is our springboard into the mystery of God, where we strive to live by His commands and prepare to return to Him in eternity."

Today’s American lifestyle differs drastically from what it was decades ago.

For example, in contrast to the current focus on self-fulfillment and pursuit of all things pleasurable, my parents grew up on hard work, frugality and faith, and so did I.

In my youth, school was my job; I followed the rules and did my best. Weekdays had no room for diversions, and the Saturday (and summer day) rule was no television or playmates before noon.

Work around the house or in the yard and garden took precedence over entertainments, and expenditures on extravagances or pipe dreams were out of the question. Cooking, sewing, piano practice, and reading were encouraged. (My dad and brother did the manly tasks.)

Saturday evenings brought a good scrubbing, and then Mom cleaned and filed my fingernails and gave them a coat of clear polish. Next morning, we dressed in our finest, with hat and white gloves: Sunday was church day.

As I matured and internalized my parents’ training, the habit I valued most was Mass on Sundays and holy days. I never missed, even during times when I strayed in other ways. I credit that faith training with grounding my decisions and helping me discern best paths in my life’s directions – and empowering me to embrace my greatest trials fearlessly.

Faith, after all, is a way of life. Church is our springboard into the mystery of God, where we strive to live by His commands and prepare to return to Him in eternity.

For Christians, adhering to God means embracing Christ’s cross and hoping to share in His resurrection. Jesus says (Mt. 11:28-30): “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me.... For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

“How can life’s burden be easy?” I asked my 91-year-old mother recently, as we read that verse in our evening prayers. Mom answered, “When you do the right thing, it is easy.”

What I learned, growing up Catholic, to be the right thing is countercultural today. Society has turned upside-down.

About seven years ago, confounded by chaos at work, and distressed with intrusions on my peace, I set out to re-connect with the basic tenets of my faith and to expand my understanding, to find other serious Catholics, and to gain a mature contemporary perspective on this beautiful, ancient and complex faith tradition.

While visiting the Grotto of Lourdes in Emmitsburg one day in June 2004, I found a flyer at the back of the glass chapel announcing a weekend retreat at Mount St. Mary’s seminary hosted by (then grotto chaplain) Father Jack Lombardi. The topic was virtues and disciplined desires.

I signed up, and since have been among the hundred or so who regularly attend Father Jack’s weekend retreats. To me, he is a prophet, straightforwardly proclaiming the truths and beauty of the Catholic faith and lifestyle. (Father Jack served at St. Patrick in Cumberland in the early 1990s. He presently is administrator at St. Peter Catholic Church in Hancock and St. Patrick mission in Little Orleans.)

Now, in his first book, “Finding Life’s Balance,” Father Jack (ordained 1988, Archdiocese of Baltimore) shares his own experiences, in the context of Scripture and Catholic orthodoxy, to journey with readers to discover the harmony that an authentic Catholic lifestyle provides in a topsy-turvy world. He calls that place “the ‘radical middle’ between extremes.”

I edited his book, available on CD. For more information, write me at P.O. Box 541, Mount Savage, MD 21545.