“When we began the Catholic Worker, we first thought of it as a headquarters for the paper, a place for round-table discussions, for learning crafts, for studying ways of building up a new social order. But God has made it much more than all this. He has made it a place for the poor. They come early in the morning from their beds in cheap flophouses, from the benches in the park across the street, from the holes and corners of the city. They are the most destitute, the most abandoned.” – Dorothy Day “Poverty Is the Pearl of Great Price”. The Catholic Worker, July-August 1953, 1,7. The Catholic Worker Movement.

Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin, the founders of the Catholic Worker Movement, welcomed everyone who came to them with radical hospitality. They were eager to practice “The Gospel,” which spoke not of Lazarus’ virtues, but only that he had suffered while the rich man had remained ignorant of his existence and pain. The Catholic Worker founders sought to provide what the rich man in the Gospels had not provided to Lazarus—a place of loving personal hospitality and genuine human connection.

Peter Maurin and Dorothy Day taught that personal responsibility was the path to a new social order where goodness would flourish naturally. This meant the daily practice of the corporal works of mercy: feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, clothing the naked, sheltering those without homes, visiting the sick, visiting those in prison, and honoring the dead. It consisted of personal responsibility for the common good—not waiting for institutions to do what we as a community ought to be doing ourselves. This understanding that we are all connected, that we belong to each other, became the foundation of hospitality practiced through works of mercy in Catholic Worker houses.

The founder of the Boise Catholic Worker, a Mennonite convert to Catholicism, envisioned Corpus Christi House as a sanctuary where guests could find respite from both the physical and emotional weight of their struggles. He would turn the lights on at 5am every morning, with coffee brewing and hard-boiled eggs ready. When neighbors saw those lights come on, they knew they could count on a peaceful, welcoming start to their day—a place where they were recognized as part of the Body of Christ.

Today, Corpus Commons continues this Catholic Worker tradition of radical hospitality. Our name itself reflects our belief that everyone who enters our doors is part of our community and deserves to be treated with dignity and respect. We offer food, clothing, and shelter from Boise’s harsh weather. Together—staff, volunteers, and guests alike—we create a community where the practice of mercy transforms us all, teaching us that true personal responsibility means recognizing our shared humanity and caring for one another as family.