A classic of faith-based activism―updated for a new generation. Why was Daniel Berrigan wanted by the FBI? Why did Robert Coles harbor a fugitive? Listen in to the conversations between these two great teachers as they struggle with what it means to put your faith to the test. Discover how their story of challenging the status quo during a time of great political, religious, and social change is just as applicable to our lives today. Thirty years ago, at the height of U.S. involvement in the Vietnam War, Daniel Berrigan, a Jesuit priest, was wanted by the FBI for his nonviolent protest activities. He hid in the house of Robert Coles, who would later win the Pulitzer Prize. The two began a dialogue that encompasses a fascinating range of topics, from war, psychology, and violence, to social institutions, compassion, activism, and family life. With this expanded, anniversary edition of a classic, new generations of readers can examine for themselves how spirituality is not only for ourselves, but often demands action and personal risk in the public arena. New to this edition, Robert Coles offers historical perspective on this turbulent time and assesses the progress of faith-based activism in the years since. Daniel Berrigan challenges today’s activists in a new afterword. Finally, a glossary of terms helps to clarify the key people, places, and movements that are often the subject of the Coles/Berrigan conversations.
Robert Coles is a professor of psychiatry and medical humanities at the Harvard Medical School, a research psychiatrist for the Harvard University Health Services, and the James Agee Professor of Social Ethics at Harvard College.
This book chronicles the conversations between Father Daniel Berrigan and his friend Robert Coles, a psychiatrist in whose house Berrigan hid while he was underground, running from the FBI. As per usual, Berrigan speaks of many things, and his thoughts were as interesting for me to read as they had been interesting for Coles to listen to.
One thing that left an impression on me is that the priest treated the underground as a metaphor for death, and nonviolent life outside of the law, which was a definition of the underground as he saw it, was life outside of death for him. By living outside of death he did not mean escaping mortality, but fighting against the idea that people are born to die, which makes men agree to go to war, for instance. He believed that the will of God is for us to live, not to die. He did not want any child to be born into this world to bear arms, to obey those who were sending young men to death, and to kill innocent people. He did not want the churches to support any of this, clerics to remain silent about it, and congregations to defend it. He saw it as the right order of things' being destroyed, which condemned the poor people of America and the world to live in hopelessness.
While in hiding, Berrigan hoped that his and his brother's resistance, although narrowed to the issues of the Vietnam conflict, would help people all over the world. It was a revelation for me, though, that he wanted his protest to be less "anguished and ambiguous." I had been left with the impression that he was confident in his way of protesting by going to prison, but it turned out that he preferred to be free, to clothe the naked, feed the hungry, and house the homeless, but the times were such that he was outlawed from the community.
According to Berrigan, he would not have napalmed the draft files at Catonsville if the government had achieved peace in Vietnam. Had the government kept any of its promises, he would have chosen to go to prison instead of going underground and giving the FBI a difficult time. As peace became more distant than ever, though, drowned in the blood of the innocent people of Vietnam, people like him, who had no weapons and no riches, became a threat to the masters of the kingdom of death.
He wondered who he was and what he was doing every day. He understood that for those who were in power it was difficult to understand what people like him wanted – they came after him with guns, but he wanted to demonstrate how violent the world was. He realized that he knew what the Black Panthers and the student protesters meant when they said that the violence came from the other side, that many of those who said that they were for law and order were actually not. Notably, he did not criticize the Weather Underground harshly for their violent methods. He thought that their violence reflected the violence of society and that they had embraced this violence after struggling to be nonviolent. I would have to disagree with him this time. The Weathermen did not try to be nonviolent – they were aggressive from the beginning.
Regarding Americans' thinking about social change, he said that it was childish and raised false hopes because Americand applied the experiences that they had drawn from technology and believed that since they had done so much so quickly in the fields of mechanics and science, they could do the same thing to each other. However, as Berrigan points out, this was not how people were – neither in America nor in Vietnam – so the"spiritual dismantling of the American empire" would take many years, if not lifetimes.
GEOGRAPHY OF FAITH has many more interesting thoughts, but I consider it inferior to Berrigan's other narratives. The conversations between him and Coles lack the depth that I wanted them to have. If you are familiar with Berrigan's works, you will not find much new here. This book is still worth reading, though.
Very thoughtful conversation by two broadly read men whose educations and training led both to very interesting places in their professional and personal lives. Also helpful is to look back in retrospect to see where Berrigan's vision has borne fruit.
Don't let the lack of cover art fool you, this was a really refreshing read. Calling this book and the conversations within "thought-provoking" feels a bit cheap, but bringing together the minds of a radical priest and a skeptical psychiatrist, we were bound for invigorating dialogue from the start. The title didn't necessarily nail down the content of the book. Daniel Berrigan was the immediate draw here, for his radical action spawned by his faith in Jesus, he drew a ton from Bonhoeffer in the ways in which he sought out living for God. The higher academia issues they dealt with were very manageable and for once it felt like I could join in the conversation at any moment.
Definitely felt like in modern terms this would have been a podcast people would eat up. It was a dialogue style read, which is a bit odd in retrospect of this is the sort of stuff I could knock out in an hour by listening to, but they did not have the privilege of this technology in the 1970s. Probably will avoid reading these sorts of exchanges in the future, if I can.
This was a book on the social modern moment exiting the 60s and entering into the turbulent 70s, requiring the reader to internalize and beg the question: What is faithful action? Berrigan delves into recognizing the place Jesus inhabits in the day to day issues found throughout the human struggle.
I could pick Catonsville Nine, and the Collected Poems, but this book of conversations between old friends Robert Cole and Dan Berrigan has a warmth I love. Fr. Dan stood at the door everytime I tried bowing out of the Church, as if to say "Why are you leaving?" I never had a good enough answer, because of him.
I enjoyed listening to Berrigan talk about socio-religious issues and to hear about his experiences as a protester/fugitive/prisoner. I could've used less Coles in the conversation (I felt he dominated too much of the book.)
When I was deciding whether to buy this book, I read a review that said there was too much Robert Coles and not enough Daniel Berrigan. In fact, I think this to be a very useful discussion to which both make valuable contributions. I highly recommend it!
It occurred while Daniel Berrigan was on the run from federal authorities, who eventually caught and imprisoned him. He lived a marvelous life living to just shy of his 95th birthday. He is one of my heroes.
Near the end: Coles: You are almost infinitely more optimistic than I am. Sadly, with 50 years of hindsight, Coles appears to have been right!