25 years ago this week, I attended my first concert. Well, sort of. My mom was pregnant, and I was due to arrive on November 7, 1987. On September 12th of that year, she and my dad had tickets to U2's Joshua Tree show in Philadelphia. After several hours of “Where the Streets Have No Name,” “I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For,” and all the rest, I must have gotten pretty pumped about this whole “being born” thing, because by the 15th, my mom was headed to the hospital. At 6:08 p.m. on 9/17, an extremely premature Kathleen Elizabeth Davis made her grand entrance, blue-faced, and soon after, singing “I Will Follow,” according to my dad (though that detail can be neither confirmed nor denied).
Throughout high school, my lifelong appreciation for U2 skyrocketed to what those who knew me then might deem a bit of an obsession. Concurrent with my intensifying Bono-mania was my increasing awareness of Catholic Social Teaching. Sponsored by the Sisters of Mercy (an LCWR member congregation), Merion Mercy Academy “offers a holistic education which encourages academic and personal excellence...[and] stresses mercy spirituality, global awareness, and social responsibility. Within a nurturing community, Merion Mercy Academy educates leaders: young women who live mercy and seek justice” (from MMA’s mission statement). My theology classes and ministry experiences in high school instilled in me a commitment to social justice as a critical component of living out Gospel values in the world today. My teachers, mentors, and peers empowered me, a young lay woman, to use the gift of education to be a voice for the voiceless in solidarity with people living on the margins.
Our senior year theme for Ministry Team was “A Place at the Table.” This phrase was a perfect articulation of the school’s passion for cherishing the dignity of all God’s children. This week, I had the opportunity as a graduate student to engage the USCCB’s pastoral reflection of the same name. I now recognize the intentionality of the lay and religious women who guided us as they passed on the Church’s call to loving relationship with “the least of these.” The focus on issues of poverty and human dignity showed up consistently in our curriculum across all disciplines. These issues guided our local and global vision as members of the Mercy community. We were taught about the four legs of the table at which God welcomes all people to feast -- individuals and families, community and fath-based organizations, the private sector, and the government -- and their necessary roles in overcoming poverty and respecting the dignity of all human life. These issues were rooted and reflected in our communal prayer and worship; thanks to my Mercy education, I came to realize the dynamic relationship between liturgy and sacrament and justice and service.
Throughout these formative years, my fab four -- those same Irish lads who serenaded me while I kicked in the womb -- provided the soundtrack for my journey. This week, I was reminded of a favorite song of mine, “Yahweh,” from their 2004 album How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb. I will never forget the thrill of watching U2 perform it live in Philadelphia in May of 2005, right before graduation. And as far as rock-out-dance-around-the-house sessions go, my sister and I have this song on our favorites list, to be sure. The lyrics can be found here.
For me, "Yahweh" reveals a deep desire for transformation in God. It is about a call to conversion of self (“Take these shoes and make them fit...Take this shirt and make it clean...Take this soul and make it sing”). It also references interpersonal and communal conversion ("Take these hands and teach them what to carry...don’t make a fist,” “Take this mouth, so quick to criticize...”). Lastly, it calls for the ultimate conversion to the Reign of God (“Take this city. A city should be shining on a hill...”). This is the conversion to which Catholic Social Teaching is pointing.
Bono sings, “What no man can own, no man can take.” This lyric offers hope for the poor, the weak, the oppressed, women, the lgbtq community -- people everywhere striving to find their places at the table. These places are theirs, for we all have been made and are being created continually in the image of God. There is longing in the prayerful refrain, which repeats, “Always pain before a child is born...Why the dark before the dawn?...Still I’m waiting for the dawn.” This reference to the Paschal Mystery acknowledges the Passion and Death of Jesus that inevitably precedes the Resurrection. Hunger, homelessness, inadequate health care and education: this is the passion of our global family. And the deaths caused by social injustice are truly overwhelming. The Church calls its people to be active participants in bringing about resurrection here and now.
In “Yahweh,” Bono concludes by singing, “Take this heart and make it break.” I am thankful for the Sisters of Mercy whose vision allowed my heart to be broken by the injustices in our world. And as my heart continues to be broken again and again, I remember with gratitude and conviction that solidarity with the poor is not optional. It’s Gospel.
© 2012 Katie Davis
Throughout high school, my lifelong appreciation for U2 skyrocketed to what those who knew me then might deem a bit of an obsession. Concurrent with my intensifying Bono-mania was my increasing awareness of Catholic Social Teaching. Sponsored by the Sisters of Mercy (an LCWR member congregation), Merion Mercy Academy “offers a holistic education which encourages academic and personal excellence...[and] stresses mercy spirituality, global awareness, and social responsibility. Within a nurturing community, Merion Mercy Academy educates leaders: young women who live mercy and seek justice” (from MMA’s mission statement). My theology classes and ministry experiences in high school instilled in me a commitment to social justice as a critical component of living out Gospel values in the world today. My teachers, mentors, and peers empowered me, a young lay woman, to use the gift of education to be a voice for the voiceless in solidarity with people living on the margins.
Our senior year theme for Ministry Team was “A Place at the Table.” This phrase was a perfect articulation of the school’s passion for cherishing the dignity of all God’s children. This week, I had the opportunity as a graduate student to engage the USCCB’s pastoral reflection of the same name. I now recognize the intentionality of the lay and religious women who guided us as they passed on the Church’s call to loving relationship with “the least of these.” The focus on issues of poverty and human dignity showed up consistently in our curriculum across all disciplines. These issues guided our local and global vision as members of the Mercy community. We were taught about the four legs of the table at which God welcomes all people to feast -- individuals and families, community and fath-based organizations, the private sector, and the government -- and their necessary roles in overcoming poverty and respecting the dignity of all human life. These issues were rooted and reflected in our communal prayer and worship; thanks to my Mercy education, I came to realize the dynamic relationship between liturgy and sacrament and justice and service.
Throughout these formative years, my fab four -- those same Irish lads who serenaded me while I kicked in the womb -- provided the soundtrack for my journey. This week, I was reminded of a favorite song of mine, “Yahweh,” from their 2004 album How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb. I will never forget the thrill of watching U2 perform it live in Philadelphia in May of 2005, right before graduation. And as far as rock-out-dance-around-the-house sessions go, my sister and I have this song on our favorites list, to be sure. The lyrics can be found here.
For me, "Yahweh" reveals a deep desire for transformation in God. It is about a call to conversion of self (“Take these shoes and make them fit...Take this shirt and make it clean...Take this soul and make it sing”). It also references interpersonal and communal conversion ("Take these hands and teach them what to carry...don’t make a fist,” “Take this mouth, so quick to criticize...”). Lastly, it calls for the ultimate conversion to the Reign of God (“Take this city. A city should be shining on a hill...”). This is the conversion to which Catholic Social Teaching is pointing.
Bono sings, “What no man can own, no man can take.” This lyric offers hope for the poor, the weak, the oppressed, women, the lgbtq community -- people everywhere striving to find their places at the table. These places are theirs, for we all have been made and are being created continually in the image of God. There is longing in the prayerful refrain, which repeats, “Always pain before a child is born...Why the dark before the dawn?...Still I’m waiting for the dawn.” This reference to the Paschal Mystery acknowledges the Passion and Death of Jesus that inevitably precedes the Resurrection. Hunger, homelessness, inadequate health care and education: this is the passion of our global family. And the deaths caused by social injustice are truly overwhelming. The Church calls its people to be active participants in bringing about resurrection here and now.
In “Yahweh,” Bono concludes by singing, “Take this heart and make it break.” I am thankful for the Sisters of Mercy whose vision allowed my heart to be broken by the injustices in our world. And as my heart continues to be broken again and again, I remember with gratitude and conviction that solidarity with the poor is not optional. It’s Gospel.
© 2012 Katie Davis
