By Sarah Callahan
Gray Space Graces
As I write this, I am recovering from an appendectomy. A week ago, life was going on as usual, until it wasn’t. After experiencing a heavy amount of pain, I reluctantly headed into the emergency room to discover that I had acute appendicitis and needed to undergo surgery. The operation went as smooth as it could have, but I still had to spend two nights in the hospital. As I was writhing, healing, resting, and doing my fair share of complaining, I was comforted by many of my family members and friends who stopped by to visit.
I was struck by the fact that their presence was consolation in and of itself. There was nothing they could do to fix the pain, and yet they were there. There was nothing they needed to bring or say, but their simply sitting with me helped me to face the uncomfortableness.
During my time at Saint Louis University, I served in the Campus Ministry Department as a residence hall minister. One of the full-time campus ministers, who rocked at res hall ministry I might add, would tell us that the most integral element was just being there for the mundane, everyday moments, so that when times got tough for students, they could come to you and be comfortable, because you were a familiar face. He called this ministry of presence, “creative loitering.”
As Christians and people of good will, we are called to be present with others, especially in their suffering. When we do, we acknowledge the fact that we are all interdependent. We need one another. In fact, the Catholic Church even has a principal of Catholic Social Teaching dedicated to this idea called solidarity.
As is stated in the Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, “Solidarity is also an authentic moral virtue, not a ‘feeling of vague compassion or shallow distress at the misfortunes of so many people, both near and far. On the contrary, it is a firm and persevering determination to commit oneself to the common good. That is to say to the good of all and of each individual, because we are all really responsible for all.’ Solidarity rises to the rank of fundamental social virtue since it places itself in the sphere of justice. It is a virtue directed par excellence to the common good, and is found in “a commitment to the good of one’s neighbour with the readiness, in the Gospel sense, to ‘lose oneself’ for the sake of the other instead of exploiting him, and to ‘serve him’ instead of oppressing him for one’s own advantage” (193).
When we visit a loved one or a friend when they are sick or going through a tough time, that is a good and beautiful thing to do. Yet, we are called to greater solidarity with, not only those who we love and are close with, but those who we may not call friends. Are we ready to “lose ourselves” for the sake of each one of our neighbors? Where and how do we find ourselves when others are hungry, unhoused, afraid, separated from their families?
We are commissioned to be present with and stand up for each person in our human family. As Pope Francis shared in Fratelli Tutti, “Solidarity means much more than engaging in sporadic acts of generosity. It means thinking and acting in terms of community. It means that the lives of all are prior to the appropriation of goods by a few. It also means combatting the structural causes of poverty, inequality, the lack of work, land and housing, the denial of social and labor rights. It means confronting the destructive effects of the empire of money… Solidarity, understood in its most profound meaning, is a way of making history” (116). So, let’s make history together.
(Sarah Callahan is social media coordinator for the Diocese of Davenport.)
