Peter Maurin's Enduring Vision
What better time than now to recommit to Peter's vision of a society in which it is easier for people to be good?
What better way to mark this Presidential Inauguration Week than to double down on Peter Maurin’s alternative vision for a “society in which it is easier for people to be good”?
In today’s edition, we have two pieces on Peter Maurin, co-founder—or founder, if Dorothy had her way—of the Catholic Worker.
4 Enduring Lessons from Peter Maurin: Here’s a talk Paul Magno gave at the 1997 Dorothy Day Centenary Conference at Marquette University. Paul Magno has been involved with the Catholic Worker movement since 1981, and has held positions with Noviolence International, Witness for Peace, and the Peter Maurin Center, among others. In 2019, Paul won the Pax Christi Metro DC Peacemaker of the Year award.
The Day I Met Peter Maurin: Our second piece is a hilarious account of the day a young Stanley Vishnewsi (himself a pillar of the early Catholic Worker) met Peter Maurin. Full of vivid detail, it’s a good counterpoint to Paul’s more intellectual piece.
Speaking of intellectual analyses of Peter’s thought, if you have some extra time in the next few days, take an hour or so to read the late Marc Ellis’s wonderful essay on Peter’s life and thought, “Peter Maurin: To Bring the Social Order to Christ.” We’d print it here, but at 20+ pages, it’s too long. You can read it at CatholicWorker.org, though.
—Jerry
4 Enduring Lessons from Peter Maurin
by Paul Magno
addressing the 1997 Dorothy Day Centenary Conference at Marquette University
“Engaging with Peter Maurin’s thought is essential for those involved in the Catholic Worker movement. His legacy must remain a living one—not only for the vitality of our movement but for the renewal of the Church and the transformation of society.”
Peter Maurin is an important but highly underappreciated voice from our past and for our future. Our society does not have a clue who he was or what he had to say, which is a pity—especially in our current moment of contentious discourse on the direction of society, ponderous moralizing, and tremendous spiritual and intellectual barrenness. America, for what it’s worth, could use a Peter Maurin. However, he is barely known even among the social or political radicals—both secular and religious—who ought to be better informed. Among Catholics, his name should at least be recognizable, yet it remains obscure. Scholars and workers alike are oblivious to Peter Maurin, and they are much diminished for it.
I am also concerned that he has become something of a relic or curiosity within the Catholic Worker movement itself. Some admirable work is being done with his “back to the land” idea, and while I recognize that, I will not dwell on it here.
However, I seldom see Maurin cited authoritatively to the extent that Dorothy Day is, or as frequently as the Scriptures are. In our discussions, we often hear statements like, “Dorothy said this…” or “Dorothy would not agree…” or “The Gospel calls us to…” or “Jesus said that…” But how often do we hear, “Peter said…” or “Peter Maurin would have advocated this”? Much less often.
1. The Intellectual Author of the Catholic Worker Movement
One is tempted, especially in an academic setting such as this conference at Marquette, to identify the Catholic Worker movement exclusively or predominantly with Dorothy Day—or with whatever version of Dorothy we might be partial to. Some speak only of her piety, or only of her devotion to the poor, or only of her loyalty to the Church, or only of her radicalism, or only of her fire-and-brimstone denunciation of the “filthy, rotten system.” Dorothy Day defies easy categorization, and the movement’s origins and identity likewise resist simplistic presentation.
It is impossible to ignore the significance of Peter Maurin as the intellectual architect of the Catholic Worker movement. Dorothy Day amplified his program through the newspaper and other forums for years while he was alive, and she continued to uphold his agenda and purpose for many years after his death. It was Peter who educated Dorothy as a Catholic and significantly influenced her intellectual growth. Her insistence on “Peter’s Program” was not mere deference to compensate for being a woman, a convert, or a social radical. Her habitual affirmation of his ideas was too enduring and pervasive to dismiss. If we cherish Dorothy Day and respect her wisdom, we must trust her judgment in embracing the program Peter Maurin called the Catholic Worker movement to follow.
In reviewing Dorothy Day’s writings, particularly in the 1940s and 1950s, we see that she frequently emphasized Peter’s name and the agenda he promulgated. Over time, the focus of The Catholic Worker newspaper shifted more toward Maurin’s vision. For instance, while the 1930s saw extensive reporting on labor activism, later decades featured deeper reflection on the meaning of work.
2. A Substantial Critique of Modern Society and an Alternative Vision
Peter Maurin spoke and wrote during the 1930s and 1940s, a time of great social upheaval due to the Great Depression and World War II. As these crises engulfed society, Peter warned—often in vain—against turning to large institutional solutions. Nevertheless, society gravitated toward what Dorothy Day later called “Holy Mother State.” Peter’s warnings against dependency on mass institutions were prescient then, and they remain relevant today.
His critiques resonate in our time. In the 1990s, American society began to tire of “Big Brother,” yet the political right quickly co-opted a shallow version of Maurin’s insights. Today, politicians may echo Peter’s statement that “the Federal Government was never intended to solve men’s economic problems,” and voices lament the separation of Church and State. Yet few will add his crucial insight: “But it has not separated the State from business.”
Peter diagnosed the dangers of a society in which “the bank account is the standard of values,” warning that the ruling class “cares only for money, not for culture.” Though he wrote these words in the 1930s, they remain strikingly relevant in today’s economic climate.
On the issue of lending money at interest, Peter drew from the ethics of the “prophets of Israel and the Fathers of the Church.” He saw usury as an economic and moral peril that perpetuates greed and undermines ethical restraint. “Living off the sweat of someone else’s brow,” he argued, damages our ability to live virtuously.
Peter understood that materialism—whether in the form of wealth accumulation, industrial capitalism, or state power—takes spiritual possession of us. If we are captivated by mass production, omnipotent government, or financial success, we become blind to the spiritual benefits of manual labor, holy poverty, and prayer. This is the holistic nature of his vision: a fundamentally simple yet profound contribution to the common good.
Even America does not have to decay and perish for its sins. Peter Maurin showed us how to build “a new society in the shell of the old,” and he confidently proclaimed this vision to anyone who would listen. If we intellectuals and activists take his lessons to heart, we can offer a similar gift to society, the Church, and the world.
3. A Call to Intellectual Formation and Clarification of Thought
The Easy Essays were not just a method of teaching but a means of indoctrination—concise summaries of ideas designed to inculcate themselves into our intellects. Their simplicity made them memorable, but their content was far from simplistic. Peter wanted us not only to learn his essays but to understand the broader intellectual tradition behind them.
Dorothy Day emphasized that “clarification of thought” was the first point in the Catholic Worker program. Roundtable discussions, the newspaper, and educational efforts were central to the movement. Sustaining Peter’s legacy requires a return to serious study of his ideas—through the Easy Essays, the books he recommended, and his summaries of great thinkers like Jacques Maritain, Nikolai Berdyaev, and Hilaire Belloc.
If we study and discuss these works, we will strengthen our ability to “bring the social order to Christ” and “build a new society in the shell of the old.”
4. His Manner of Practicing Catholicism
Peter Maurin was deeply engaged with his religious tradition, understanding both its spiritual and social implications. He applied Catholic social teachings to modern problems, demonstrating deep devotion and loyalty to the Church—but he rarely spoke in terms of obedience or orthodoxy.
He lived what he preached. Dorothy Day recalled that he never had a second coat, often gave away his bed, never had his own desk, and always “ate what was set before him.” He brought in the destitute from Union Square and the Bowery, initiating the first Catholic Worker hospitality efforts.
His commitment was not about shaming others or posturing but about simple, faithful adherence to Christ’s call. His acts of mercy, poverty, and labor were fundamentally devotional—offered to God in prayer and service to others.
This is the core of Peter Maurin’s Catholicism: a practice rooted in love and sacrifice, rather than in demands for order, orthodoxy, or inclusion. His vision for the Mass encapsulates this beautifully:
The life of Christ was a life of sacrifice.
The life of a Christian must be a life of sacrifice.
We cannot imitate the sacrifice of Christ on Calvary
By trying to get all we can.
We can only imitate the sacrifice of Christ on Calvary
By trying to give all we can.
Conclusion
Engaging with Peter Maurin’s thought is essential for those involved in the Catholic Worker movement. We must not dismiss him as too quaint or simplistic. His legacy must remain a living one—not only for the vitality of our movement but for the renewal of the Church and the transformation of society.
Interest doesn’t interest me, but principle does interest me.
Modern man maintains that enlightened self-interest
is the way to see that society governs itself
But the self-interest is no longer enlightened and
no one is remembering principle
When interest becomes the only principle
What we get is a selfish society
The Day I Met Peter Maurin
by Stanley Vishnewski
from Wings of the Dawn by Stanley Vishnewsi and reprinted in The Catholic Worker, May 1976
“When he had concluded a statement, he would stop talking and lean forward with his finger pointed at me. I, of course, said nothing. I didn’t know what to say. It was a new experience, for me, to have an adult treat me as an intellectual equal.”
The door opened. An old man came in. He wore a shabby, ill-fitting suit and heavy bob-nailed shoes. His pockets bulged with newspapers and pamphlets. I remember how the hob-nails in his shoes clattered against the wooden floor, as he went past us without speaking. I had the impression that he did not see us.
“That’s Peter Maurin,” Mary Sheehan said. “He writes the Easy Essays for the paper. He lives up in Harlem.”
I looked at the doorway through which the man had gone. I had thought that he was some “tramp” who had come in looking for something to eat.
Mary Sheehan must have sensed what I was thinking. “Peter doesn’t care how he looks,” she said. “He always has his nose stuck in a book. But what a brain he has. He knows everything about history. He could make a lot of money as a teacher.”
The envelopes were all addressed. I got up to leave. “Where are you going?” Mary Sheehan asked.
“Home,” I said.
She looked surprised. “Don’t you want to eat with us? It’s almost five o’clock.”
“But. . . “I stammered.
“Oh, don’t be bashful,” Mary said. “Margaret expects you to stay for supper. There’s no sense going now. We will be eating in a few minutes.”
I sat down. Out in the kitchen I could hear plates being set down on the round table. Then there was silence. I looked at Mary. She smiled back. Margaret came to the doorway. “It is ready.”
I stepped aside to let Mary go ahead of me and then followed her into the kitchen. Peter Maurin was already sitting at the table. He was reading a pamphlet. Mary sat down next to him.
“Sit here,” Margaret told me. “I’ll put the food out.” I noticed that there was an extra plate at the table. Margaret must have read my thoughts. “That’s the Christ plate. We always set an extra place for anyone who comes.”
I had not yet been introduced to Peter but he did not wait for an introduction. At that moment his face became alive and animated. He pointed his finger at me and said, “In the first centuries of Christianity the poor were fed, clothed and sheltered at a personal sacrifice and the Pagans said about the Christians: ‘See how they love each other.”‘
“Today,” he continued, “the poor are fed, clothed and sheltered by the politicians at the expense of the taxpayers.
“And because the poor are no longer fed, clothed, and sheltered at a personal sacrifice but at the expense of the taxpayers, Pagans say about the Christians: ‘See how they pass the buck.”‘
Peter spoke in a rhythmical sing-song. At that time I did not realize that he was reciting one of his own Easy Essays, but I had the feeling that he was quoting from something that had already been written. When he finished, he stared at me as if waiting for me to comment on what he had just said.
Margaret saved me from my embarrassment by asking Peter to say Grace. I bowed my head until it almost touched the plate. The meal consisted of meatballs, mashed potatoes, string beans, mushrooms, gravy, coffee, bread, butter and more slabs of apple pie.
“Someone gave us the food.” Margaret said. “We have to finish everything up or else it will spoil.”
Peter restrained from talking during the meal. Mary and Margaret did most of the talking. I just listened. During the course of the meal Margaret told Peter that I was a Lithuanian.
Peter put his fork down and looked at me through a pair of glasses which were perched precariously on the edge of his nose. “So, you are a Lithuanian,” he said. “The Third Order of St. Francis was strong for many years in Lithuania.”
I was impressed by Peter’s remarks. He was the first person I had met, away from the Lithuanian community, who knew anything about my own culture. Most people didn’t even know where Lithuania was on the map.
“My people come from the country,” I said. “They were Lithuanian peasants.”
“I am a French peasant,” Peter said. “I was born on a farm in the Southern part of France. My family owned the farm for 1,500 years, since the time of St. Augustine. We had seven cows, some sheep and a mare. We used oxen to plow the fields. We raised most of the food we ate. My father worked the land until he was ninety years old.”
Peter had moved his chair in order to be closer to me. Margaret and Mary cleared the table and began to wash the dishes. Peter talked as though addressing an audience. He raised his voice slightly. He mentioned names of saints I had never heard of before.
Peter said, “In the Catholic Worker we must try to have the voluntary poverty of St. Francis, the charity of St. Vincent de Paul, the intellectual approach of St. Dominic, the easy conversations about things that matter of St. Philip Neri, the manual labor of St. Benedict.”
As Peter talked, he rocked back and forth in his chair. Every once in a while, to emphasize a point, he would lean over and tap me on the knee. The wrinkles on his face seemed to move up and down as he kept talking.
When he had concluded a statement, he would stop talking and lean forward with his finger pointed at me. I, of course, said nothing. I didn’t know what to say. It was a new experience, for me, to have an adult treat me as an intellectual equal.
Later, I learned more about Peter’s methods of conducting discussions. He had expected me to make some comment on what he was saying. He had wanted me to state what was on my mind. Once I had commented on what he had just said he would then have proceeded to carry on the conversation from there.
Peter would never dominate a conversation. He believed that a person had a right to finish a statement without being interrupted. He would never answer a question directly. “I am not a question box,” he would say, “I am a chatter box.”
I finally asked the question that was on my mind. “What is the purpose of The Catholic Worker?”
To this day I do not know what color his eyes were, but I know that he looked at me more intently than anybody had ever looked at me before. Peter leaped up from his chair. He looked down at me.
“The purpose of the Catholic Worker,” he said, “is to create a society where it will, be easier for men to be good. A society where each person will consider himself to be his brother’s keeper. A society where each one will try to serve And to be the least. God wants us to be our brother’s keeper. He wants us to feed the hungry at a personal sacrifice. He wants us to clothe the naked at a personal sacrifice. He wants us to shelter the homeless. To serve man for God’s sake, that is what God wants us to do!”
I was fascinated by Peter’s flow of language and his learning. I was impressed by what he was saying. I had never met a man who talked as he did. I glanced around the room. Mary was playing with the cat who was named Social Justice. Margaret was holding her baby. I looked at the window and realized it was getting dark. But Peter was just warming up to his subject. I could sense that he was interested in me.
“We need enthusiasm.” Peter said. “Nothing can be accomplished in the work of social reconstruction without enthusiasm.”
I was happy to hear Peter say this. I realized that the only talent I had to offer was enthusiasm, enthusiasm and still more enthusiasm!
About us. Roundtable covers the Catholic Worker Movement. This week’s Roundtable was produced by Jerry Windley-Daoust and Renée Roden. Art by Monica Welch at DovetailInk. Roundtable is an independent publication not associated with the New York Catholic Worker or The Catholic Worker newspaper. Send inquiries to roundtable@catholicworker.org.
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I think I met and spent a day with Stanley Vishnewsky when I was living at the Catholic Worker in the 1970s. I wish I had known then what a wonderful writer he was, and how much depth he had to share. I may have had the same misconception of who he was that he had had of Peter Maurin. I saw him as a relatively old man with a strong accent. The same misconception goes for Dorothy Day. I knew her, lived with her, and had no idea of the riches of insight, knowledge and wisdom stored up inside her.
I don't think Stanley even mentioned Peter Maurin's name, that Sunday we spent together. But maybe we did what was on Stanley's heart - we went to a Lithuanian festival at his Lithuanian church in Brooklyn. I was his guest. I learned from him that Lithuania was indeed a country, with a language of its own, a thriving cuisine and culture.
Little by little during my time on First Street, I learned little tidbits of information about Peter Maurin. As I start to appreciate his insights, which inspired Dorothy so deeply, I find myself wondering what he would advocate doing about the world we are waking up to with our newly reinstated President. What would he ask us to do about all the undocumented immigrants dreading possible deportation? I can imagine he would say, offer hospitality. A room in your home, a place at your table. Is this what the Catholic Worker is doing now? I hope so, and intend to find out and help in any way I can. It is hard to know how to help from where I live. I left NYC decades ago and live in Germany. But I want to see on my next visit back, how the Catholic Worker is making it easier to be good in a time when it's harder and harder to be good.
I’m still relatively new to Peter Maurin (although I read many of the Easy Essays in college), and I admit that I recoil in frustration and hopelessness when I read him saying things that I associate with MAGA — dismantling safety-net institutions so that “Christians” can get the credit for helping people. (Although today I think it’s more because of the “lack of separation between state and business”)
I was grateful to read in the first piece a short acknowledgment of how the political right co-opted Maurin’s stance against large institutional solutions. I would love to read something that fleshes that out a bit more. During a time when US infrastructure is being dismantled, are CWs supposed to celebrate it? just sit back and accept it? keep focusing on alternatives while the need for those alternatives spikes so dramatically that we can’t possibly keep up??
I’m also curious about CW’s connections with asset-based community development, since some of these statements about institutions also reminded me a bit of John McKnight and ABCD. Again, I love the work of this newsletter and look forward to reading more!