Rome wasn’t built in a day. And – neither was its church. As the passage from Acts reminds us, building a church means building a community. It takes patience – an investment of time, of energy, of resources. Community building requires trust – not only in the mission, but in the members of the community. But it also takes perseverance – the same determination and steadfastness shown by Barnabas and Paul who retraced their steps again and again, slowly building the community of believers who became the church. Believers are often moved by their faith to build other communities both within and without the larger church to fill a need, to follow the Gospels’ commandment to truly love one another. The Church has many of these communities that serve many different missions. All are united in a central belief in the universality of their shared faith.

Much like Paul and Barnabas, Helen Caldwell Day Riley dedicated her life to building community. She was a convert, like Paul, who found in Catholicism answers to questions she did not know how to ask. Raised non-denominational in the Jim Crow South, Helen struggled with the inherent hypocrisy of Christians who discriminated against her because of race, but yet claimed to love her as one of God’s children. From a young age, she questioned the existence of God, asking her mother, “Does God love colored people? God is white.” Her mother’s response that God is neither black nor white and loves everyone did not satisfy her. She spent her teens and twenties wandering, searching for meaning and purpose. Her road to Damascus moment came when working as a student nurse in New York City in the late 1930s. Tasked with giving last rites to dying infants when a priest was unavailable, she began her journey into faith. Eventually her quest led her to Dorothy Day, who was building her own community on the Bowery – the Catholic Worker. The experience of giving of herself for the benefit of others transformed Helen, much the way Paul was transformed. She dedicated her life to living the Gospel and building community based on its principles.

When life led her to Memphis, Tennessee, the opportunity to do this in a tangible way presented itself. Just before Christmas, 1950, a young mother, unable to afford childcare while she worked, left her children unattended in a dilapidated garage apartment with a kerosene heater for warmth. Somehow, the heater tipped over and the children died a horrific death in the resulting fire. Helen used her weekly newspaper column to bring attention to the plight of this and other poor working mothers, chastising fellow Christians for celebrating the birth of one baby in a manger while others died tragically preventable deaths due to poverty, racism, and indifference. That tragedy haunted Helen, inspiring her to seek a way to love those young mothers, to give of herself to serve them. 

Her occasional columns for the national Catholic Worker newspaper brought her to the attention of other local Catholics who shared her idealistic commitment to the Gospel. The group eventually began planning a Catholic Worker house – an audacious and dangerous venture in heavily Protestant, extremely segregated 1950s Memphis. The mission of the house – to provide childcare and other services to women with children – was rooted in the desperate need that the 1950 Christmas tragedy revealed. Racism, sexism, and even opposition from fellow Catholics did not deter Helen. She and her community persevered. Embodying the spirit of her colorblind faith, she stood arm-in-arm with a young, white, Irish Catholic mother, Alice Hanrahan, to demonstrate to the bishop the house was worthy of his blessing. Her steadfastness, courage, and resolve moved the bishop to give the first donation to rent a building. 

Sustained by a community painstakingly built on faith and the tenets of Catholic social justice, the Blessed Martin House opened in January, 1952. Its location in one of the poorest and most segregated areas of the city made many Catholics uncomfortable, but her role as house manager allowed Helen to more fully live the faith central to her sense of self. Helen believed that  – as the reading from Revelations implies – God is present where people believe he is. That the old order of materialism and selfishness can be replaced with a new one centered on the principles laid out in the Gospels – mercy, compassion, and love. As long as there is even just one person working toward that ideal – of a beloved community – it is preparing the way for the new Jerusalem. The love, mercy, and compassion that underpinned Helen’s Blessed Martin House was her answer to the commandment to love one another as God loves us, for the greater glory. To Helen, her service to the poor of Memphis was a manifestation of God’s love for her.

The perseverance and faith of the community Helen built sustained the Blessed Martin House for four years. Her passionate commitment to the living Gospel ironically brought her into increasing conflict with the hierarchy of the faith that inspired and fulfilled her. Interpreting this as a sign to seek new paths, to build a new community, Helen closed the house in 1956. But the community she built in Memphis did not wither after her departure. Its members shifted their efforts to other social justice missions including labor organizing, civil rights, and other social justice areas. Helen herself continued building community through writing and Catholic action until her death in 2013.

Reflection Questions:

• Where do you see cracks in your community – cracks that can become doorways to faith? 
• How can you be the pebble in your community? Can you be part of the foundation or cause a ripple that causes positive changes in the lives of others? 
• In what ways can you sow love, faith, hope, light, and joy, as the Prayer of St. Francis – a favorite of Helen’s – asks us to do?

Finding and creating opportunities to serve others is the first step in building a beloved community. In 2006, a group of Memphis Catholics searching for that opportunity founded the Dorothy Day House of Hospitality. Its goal was much like that of the Blessed Martin House half a century earlier – assisting families in need regardless of race or denomination. The Dorothy Day House provides transitional housing and other services to area families experiencing houselessness. It currently houses multiple families in three separate properties, supporting them with wraparound services to build financial and emotional stability. Those families, now part of a community, often return to serve others as they were once served. 

As you look at the world – rather than despair at its failures, look for ways to embody and manifest God’s love through service. Seek the cracks – the crevices where pressure can cause a shift, the voids that love can fill, the holes that can become passageways to light. Build foundations and communities for others to build upon. Your actions do not have to be as monumental as a house of hospitality – it can be as small as offering water to a thirsty stranger or donating to a food bank. To paraphrase Robert Kennedy, be the pebble that creates a tiny ripple – a ripple of hope that joins with others to sweep down the mightiest of walls.