Charity for the Whole Man:
Reflections on the Works of Mercy
By Clare Wilson
Remnant Columnist | Idaho
In my graduate school milieu, I have met so many people of good intention, often filled with a burning drive to fulfill the corporal works of mercy. They do not, of course, refer to their actions and goals in so many words, but if I look at what they want to accomplish for others, the intention is clear. They are concerned with the lot of the marginalized and the minority and the homeless and the refugee and the immigrant; they are enthusiastic about teaching in and volunteering for recovery programs, hospitals, and prisons; they mourn pointless deaths by mass shooting or mental-illness-induced suicide and campaign for political movements which they hope will lower such death tolls.
In many ways, they are more generous with their time and energy than the Catholics whom I know. Moreover, their actions are clearly mandated under these Catholic guidelines: feed the hungry; give drink to the thirsty; clothe the naked; shelter the homeless; visit the sick; visit the imprisoned; bury the dead.
I admire my classmates’ commitment to good works. Many of the women in my graduate program are or have been activists for various social causes. A few are recovered addicts who now work selflessly with addiction recovery programs. A few more spent several years working in AmeriCorps or the Jesuit Volunteer Corps to bring physical and psychological care to people to underserved rural areas of the United States. Some campaign for more ethical treatment of prisoners. Several are qualified to teach English as a second language, as a form of support they can offer to struggling immigrants. All of them express real concern and devotion for these various causes.
At the same time, however, when I talk to them about their motivations, I often end up saddened. For most of them, these charitable endeavors emerge solely from a humanitarian and humanist concern—and one that usually only acknowledges the importance of physical needs and material welfare.
In conversations with each other and with me, they often express frustration and even rage at the fact that others don’t share their exact views of what constitutes human worth and advancement. Quite often, the slightest mention of a conservative politician (or other global figure—for some Pope Francis himself is too conservative!) provokes a burst of ferocious, selfrighteous indignation.
People who do not agree with their views on civil rights (especially for women and individuals who have embraced the LGBTQ+ community) are mentioned as if they are the basest scum. These acquaintances of mine discuss family members who do not embrace their world view as if their own relatives are cretins without the capacity for rational thought. Their condescension and anger are enormous, practically palpable in the atmosphere around them when they bring up such topics. I do not think they realize how incredibly off-putting and distasteful this attitude is, how it makes them all the less likely to win over conservative opponents to support their (often admirable) causes.
From such reactions, I have realized with absolute clarity how limited is the view that cares only for material intervention in the lots of unfortunate people around the world, and thus how far short a purely human motivation can fall, perhaps inevitably resulting in disillusionment about what good is actually achievable.
My secular friends fervently believe in the necessity of working for the benefit of other human beings, inspired by a respect for the intrinsic worth of humanity, but they fail to acknowledge that "man shall not live on bread alone" (Matthew IV, iv).
What they and the world have forgotten—and this amnesia leads to their violent anger and drastic polarization—is the fact that the truest form of humanitarianism and even humanism can only be found in acknowledgment of the divine. God made man in His image and likeness. It is from this reality, this imprint of the Creator, that men, women, children, rich and poor, sick and well, strong and weak, majority and minority, free and imprisoned, victim and criminal, derive their worth. For Catholic eyes, which see truth if they are well-formed, every single human person is an opportunity to look upon the reflection of God in the physical world and in daily life.
Thus, every single human person also constitutes a summons to charity and to the difficult but beautiful balance between justice and mercy. This summons remains no matter who the other may be or what his or her beliefs and convictions.
When a person’s world view is limited to the purely corporeal existence and wellbeing of others, the various forms of humanitarian aid can only go so far in answering the needs of underprivileged or vulnerable populations.
Of course, it is true that providing food and shelter and care for basic needs are often the first and most necessary forms of charity, because in the extremes of suffering and deprivation, it is hard for a human person to have the energy and leisure to lift his or her thoughts toward higher things. Once these needs are met, however, it is time to remember that each person has a soul which also needs charity and compassion and nourishment. It is never enough to say, "I have provided for your physical, emotional, and psychological health.
That’s enough. Now go be a successful person." Instead, spiritual health must be considered as well.
I find it interesting, from this point of view, that the creators of Alcoholics Anonymous insisted that recovering alcoholics acknowledge their own helplessness in their struggles with addiction and commit themselves to God for His guidance. AA is one of the most successful recovery programs in the world. Atheists and agnostics may complain extensively about its reliance on God as a source of healing and strength against temptation and relapse, but even they have benefitted (and sometimes have been converted to some form of theistic belief) thanks to their participation in its guidelines.
All this goes to show that in order to be truly charitable and truly assist another human being, we must remember his or her soul. Suppose that you are faced with a homeless person and given the task of rehabilitating him for society. Of course, you would begin with the obvious wants: regular meals, clothes, access to baths and laundry, a place to live, medical care, some form of employment, psychological counseling, etc. In the end, however, is any of this going to be helpful if you do not also give him guidelines for practicing virtue and an intellectual justification for maintaining a good life?
Only in the knowledge of God can any of us find a true reason for perfecting ourselves, especially when that labor
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In India and Nepal, the Catholic Church has had much more success in making converts than other Christian denominations, precisely because Catholic services in these countries still offer basic necessities, healthcare, education, and other temporal goods even when the recipient is non- Catholic and intends to remain so.