As American as humble pie

Editor’s Note: The following is from the Jan. 11 issue of the Catholic Anchor, newspaper of the Archdiocese of Anchorage, and was written by James DeCrane, assistant editor.

Yeeeeoooooowwwww!”

My girlfriend of the time ran screaming from the creek and inside the girls’ cabin.

It was the middle of winter, in the mountains, with snow, and we had just finished swimming in the creek.

The swim wasn’t youthful exuberance. Okay, it was a little, but we also swam for a good purpose. Really.

All of us college kids had spent the day putting up insulation in an elderly woman’s house, and we needed to clean off the fiberglass fragments.

We swam in a creek because it was Appalachia, and we were trying to live poverty, while doing social justice work at Nazareth Farm, a Catholic volunteer group in Doddridge County, one of the poorest counties in West Virginia. The Nazareth Farm helps fix or build houses for those in need.

I recalled that trip of several years back, when Bonnie Cler recently shared some of her experiences as a member of the Anchorage Archdiocese Global Solidarity Partnership delegation to the Philippines. Cler spoke of opportunities she had to foster relationships and grow as a Christian.

It was not, however, a chance to relax at a five-star spa in a tropical Pacific-rim resort.

Social justice and community service have always played an important role in my life, which is why, several years ago, I spent part of Christmas break volunteering at the Nazareth Farm.

Once, I remember telling my father that I was thinking of becoming a cop. I didn’t realize it was possible to snort a tea bag through your nose by laughing.

“Sorry, son,” he said, wiping the tea off his shirt. “I picture you more the type to put a flower in the barrel of a gun, rather than wield one.”

Thanks a lot, Dad! Every family has a black sheep; apparently among the DeCranes, I’m the tie-dyed one.

Social justice and community service are important for Catholics -- but it is crucial to remember why. It’s not something we do to feel good, but to fulfill our Catholic duty to care for our brothers and sisters, and to truly understand them and advocate for them, just as we would our own family.

That’s where humility comes in.

Nazareth Farm asked its volunteers to live in poverty, like those we served. Hence the 30-degree bath to get insulation off, or using a bucket of rainwater to flush a toilet.

Tough? Yes.

Humiliating? Yes, but also a chance to really walk in someone else’s shoes. It also helps you realize what’s most meaningful. Unlike an iPod that dies after hours of use, relationships endure.

I look at Christ, our king, who was born in a manger as the ultimate lesson of what’s important. I was touched to see real joy in the eyes of Filipino priest Father Ben Torreto as he talked about Alaskans who traveled to the Philippines and humbled themselves to live like Filipinos in Cotabato.

As a priest on loan to Anchorage from the Philippines, Father Ben knows that relationships are just as important, if not more so, than leaving gifts or providing services. Jesus gave the greatest example of this when he humbled himself to be born of humans, in a barn, in a feeding trough.