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Pax Christi USA, 1972–2022: The evolving Catholic peace movement in the United States

Written for the American Catholic Studies Journal, vol. 133, no. 4 (Winter 2022). Pax Christi USA, 1972–2022: The evolving Catholic peace movement in the United States Judy Coode Judy Coode is the incoming communications director for Pax Christi USA. Since 2016, she served as the project coordinator of the Catholic Nonviolence Initiative, a project of Pax Christi International; she previously worked 20 years with the Maryknoll Office for Global Concerns. For further comment please contact the author: jlcoode@gmail.com. In early August 2022, more than 300 people gathered at a hotel in Northern Virginia to celebrate 50 years of Pax Christi USA and Catholic peacemaking in the United States. The weekend included workshops on the Doctrine of Discovery, the U.S. military budget, justice for Palestinians, the nuclear weapons treaty, and Thomas Merton, to name only a few. The conference space was decorated with peace cranes, doz...
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Breaking bread, the crust of companionship

 I was grateful to be asked by the Dorothy Day Guild to write this reflection on how Dorothy Day has affected my work. It was published in the June 2023 issue of the Guild’s newsletter. Breaking bread, the crust of companionship Communications director for Pax Christi USA  Judy Coode  reflects on the persistent presence of Dorothy Day in her life. From her Facebook page after college where she immediately placed a signature quote to her office now in Washington D.C. 20 years later, Dorothy is a staple in her efforts to fight “this filthy, rotten system.” It’s 2007. I’m creating an account on Facebook, the social media platform that recently opened itself to people who are not active university students. (At this point, it has been almost 20 years since I graduated from college.) I fill in the contact information—not everything, but some basics—and add a profile photo. My personal page offers a space to include a favorite quote. I know exactly which one I will use. I do n...
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A look back at 2003, a time of war and protest

I wrote this. It's posted on the Pax Christi USA website here.  My life in late 2002/early 2003 was full-on anti-war demonstrating. Constantly. Every weekend. It was exhausting. Not sure if it made an iota of difference, and I'm not sure anti-war activities will look like this again. Twenty years ago, March 2003, the United States attacked Iraq, an offensive military action based on fraudulent information, fomented by a need for revenge and grievance, and cheered by those who made themselves wealthy in the arms trade. March 19, 2003 prayer service in Lafayette Park, which began with about 100 and grew to 200 during a demonstration in front of the White House. After the service 26 people climbed over police barricades and offered themselves for arrest in witness against what they considered an unjust, immoral and illegal war. Photos are Iraqis taken by Voices in the Wilderness. Scott Wright is on left, Judith Kelly on the right. (c) Rick Reinhard / Impact Digitals 2003 Throughou...
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A poem for Ash Wednesday

  On my way You said return to me so here I am skin and bones held together with memories and a little bit of duct tape. I am bringing the worst of me, consider yourself warned— the furrowed brow, the achy back, the slew of judgments, a pocket full of assumptions, the track of negativity that runs laps in my head. I am bringing it all because you said return to me, edits not required, so return I will. And not all of it will be bad. Some of it will be lovely. I will bring a wagon full of nostalgia, a melody that won’t let me go, a million stories that start with the words, “Oh it was beautiful!” I will bring a mended heart, a glass half-full, two lungs, out of breath from dancing too long, and dreams that taste like honey. I will bring my whole messy human self because I know, I just know, deep in my bones, that you are already running to meet me. There are no cuts on this team. You said you’d take it all, so here I come. Me and all my humanity. We are on my way. Poem by Rev. Sara...
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The gentle strength of nonviolent witness

Originally published on the Pax Christi International Peace Stories blog, May 8, 2021 On January 6, [2021] many watched in horror as thousands of people stormed the U.S. Capitol in Washington, D.C. in a furious, chaotic, and deeply misguided attempt to nullify the November 2020 election of Joe Biden as president of the United States. The insurrectionists broke windows and furniture, swarmed offices, menaced members of Congress and their staff, stole property and inflicted a sense of terror on those who work in and near the U.S. Capitol. In the aftermath, five people were dead, at least 140 injured, and unknown more were traumatized. The January 6 attack was violent: in attitude, language, action, and result. Rather than stabilizing our democracy it has painfully accelerated social divisions. The United States has a history and culture of nonviolent demonstrations, most of which are peaceful. As the nation’s seat of power, Washington, D.C. is accustomed to protestors, both ...
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West End boys

When I was growing up, a bunch of boys lived in our neighborhood: my brothers Joe and Phillip were part of a pack that included Ricky Ray; Donny and Jimmy Loftus; Timmy Nave (who was the only bilingual one of the group because his parents were deaf and he used ASL); Billy, Joey and Paul Breen (whose fourth brother, John, was too young to join the play); and the star of N. Wilson Boulevard, Kurt Page. For a brief time, Kurt was famous, at least in Nashville and the SEC football world: in the early 1980s,  he was the quarterback for Vanderbilt University  (still holds the record for most yards passed). My Kurt Page scrapbook is around here somewhere. All or some combination of these boys, along with my father, often played basketball and baseball together, and some of them (not our father) played with their Johnny West and Geronimo action figures. (Remind me to tell the story of when I and my Barbie doll were invited to join the activity; it was the scene of my first feminist ou...
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Childhood rambles

This article appeared today in the Health section of the Washington Post. Made me smile remembering how we were allowed to roam around our neighborhood without too much interference. I don't think I ever went too far, maybe a half a mile from home at most, but it probably would have been OK if I'd gone farther. I don't remember being asked about my wanderings -- maybe I was asked where I went, and it was never a big deal. I was just in Brussels for 10 days; on Saturday and Sunday (Aug. 14-15) I wandered around a bit, and decided to try different streets just for the hell of it, just to see where they would go. It made me think about how my father used to do that too, sometimes, when he was driving long distances -- just take another route to see what it would be like. Related: One thing I despise since the rise of the GPS is people's absolute dependence on the little suckers. They can be super helpful, certainly, but there comes a point where it is ridiculous to get ad...
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