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Read our latest feature on the penitential season of Lent.

Dorothy Day doesn’t fit in any boxes. Today she would be considered a “social justice Catholic,” and she would also be considered orthodox in her beliefs.

In Bishop Thomas J. Olmsted’s May 17, 2007 Jesus Caritas column, he wrote of Day:

“She lived as though the truth were true;” this is how Dorothy Day was once described by someone who admired the way she put into practice what she taught and believed. Deeply moved by Jesus’ words (Mt 25:40), “Whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me,” she fed the hungry and assisted the poor in a heroically loving fashion. With the help of the Holy Spirit, Dorothy developed a perfected ability to place her gifts of journalism, practicality and charity at the service of the least ones of America. Dorothy Day became a woman of virtue.

With all that said, I really didn’t expect to lead off this issue’s Lenten feature with Dorothy Day. When I was assigned the prayer and fasting story, I thought about what often happens to Catholics, including myself, during Lent. I remember one year in college, I must have given up everything but breathing. No TV, no meat, no sweets, no soda pop, no movies. At the end of the 40 days, I’d made it. But I completely missed the point. I’d gotten caught up in the ritual, but missed the meaning.

So, I thought, let me talk to some “professional Catholics” and see what insight they can offer. So I thought first of the Poor Clares of Perpetual Adoration. Talk about professionals — these women spend their lives in adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, and, I found out, fast several days a week, year-round.

But then I thought this might turn off some “social justice Catholics” (I don’t like the term, you know. But it’s often used by some Catholics who subscribe to Catholic social teaching, but not so much to other teachings. A truly orthodox Catholic is a social justice Catholic.)

Anyway, so I asked one of my more progressive Catholic friends if he could suggest anyone who could speak about prayer and fasting from that perspective.

“Well, Dorothy Day.”

“Thanks man. That’s a great idea. Only thing is she died in 1980. Would make an tough interview.”

But then I remembered a story Rebecca Bostic wrote about Patrick Jordan, the managing editor of Commonweal magazine, who recently edited a book of Dorothy Day’s writings. He stopped by All Saints Catholic Newman Center last month on a book tour.

So I got in touch with him and, sure enough, I had a source for Dorothy Day.

“Dorothy was well aware of Jesus’ example of prayer and fasting, and also His admonition that certain things required we fast and pray,” he told me. “To cast out certain demons (whether it be war, violence, or madness in our present social context), prayer and fasting were the tools He gave us.”

I started thinking more about it. I wanted to write an article that appealed to all Catholics, traditional and progressive. When you seek to be fully Catholic, it’s a challenge. We seem to drift one way or another. But Dorothy Day was the perfect person to introduce prayer and fasting.

My interviews with Our Lady of Joy parishioner Heidi Stamp, Poor Clare Sister Marie St. Paul and Deacon Craig Hintze from St. Mary Parish in Chandler were equally thought-provoking for me. With a 17-month-old son, I took extra notes when Stamp talked about her kids.

I also quoted Sr. Marie St. Paul several times in conversation before the article was even in print.

What if I fail in my Lenten sacrifice?

“It’s good because it’s humbling,” she said. “You set your goals, but then you can get caught up in the goal and the success. But when you fail, it’s a grace too because you realize your dependence on our Lord. And you try again.”

Deacon Hintze’s exhortation to say little prayers throughout the day also struck a chord for me.

“When you think of it, say ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I love you,’” he said. Simple and profound.

But what pulled it all together for me was Dorothy Day. She’s a Catholic journalist, so I’m already very interested in her life. But she’s also a person who put her prayer into action. Thinking about her life helped me enter deeper into the season of Lent.

The days I fasted, the poor were constantly on my mind. I felt an appreciation for how good my life is. “I get to eat at dinner tonight,” I told myself. “I get to eat tomorrow. There’s a lot of people who don’t have that choice.”

I found myself, as Deacon Hintze suggested, saying little prayers throughout the day — because my hunger reminded me. My hunger reminded me of my dependence on God.

Sr. Marie St. Paul told me, “The detachment focuses you on Him. You can leave behind the less important, the distraction.” There is so much distraction, but as I fasted last week, the volume was turned down. The things of the world were muted, and, through prayer, I saw God was present .

As Patrick Jordan told me:

“The fasting and prayer go together, and in prayer there is really joy,” he said. “We shouldn’t get bogged down in ritual. Still, the ritual is meant to be a vehicle to increase our love of God and one another. Let’s hope we can live up to that.”

So, before the issue appeared in anyone’s mail box, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I couldn’t stop talking about it (my wife could attest). So my goal was to write an article that helped Catholics moved deeper into this penitential season. And, by God’s grace, it already helped one Catholic do just that. Me. What a blessing it is to be a Catholic journalist.