Love Is Still a Strategy

What if tenderness is the most radical act we have left?

Dorothy Day ranked him alongside St. Francis and Benedict.

Pope Francis said his writings helped him through his spiritual crisis and taught him the true meaning of the gospel.

But most people today have never heard his name.

He had no followers. No fame. He died alone in the desert.

And yet: a century later, I and thousands of others have his name inscribed on our hearts: 

Charles de Foucauld, the restless man who showed us that tenderness is the most radical act we have.

A Restless Soul

Charles was born into French nobility and orphaned young. He inherited wealth, but not direction. He was expelled from school, failed at military life — twice — and buried his grief in sex, wine, and distraction.

But while exploring North Africa, he watched Muslim men drop to their knees to pray in the open desert.

It shook something loose in him.

Years later he would write,“The moment I saw the faith of Muslims, I knew God was real.”

A Long, Hidden Conversion

He gave away everything and joined a Trappist monastery. Then he gave that up too.

Still restless, he moved to Nazareth, where he lived for years in a toolshed behind a convent, cleaning floors and praying in silence.

He called it “the spirituality of Nazareth” — a hidden life of ordinary love.

A Brother in the Desert

Eventually he returned to the desert — not as a soldier or missionary, but as a brother.

He lived among the Tuareg in southern Algeria, refusing to preach or impose his values. He shared in their poverty. Learned their language. Compiled their first dictionary. Translated their poetry. Fought French colonialism. Paid the ransom for enslaved children. Raised one child as his own. Gave his possessions away — again and again.

He said:“It is not necessary to teach others, only to live among them… and be present to them in love.”

A Death Like His Life

He built a hermitage with extra rooms, hoping others would join him. No one ever did.

Still, he stayed.

During World War I, when violence spilled into the desert, he refused to leave his neighbors. In 1916, he was killed during a raid — an anonymous death in a forgotten corner of the world.

But the Tuareg buried him with honor, as one of their own.

A Saint for Our Time

Charles de Foucauld was canonized in 2022. But long before that, his life had already become a beacon — for Dorothy Day, for Pope Francis, and for thousands of others quietly seeking another way.

Not louder. Not harsher. Not more control.

Just deeper. Truer. More tender.

What if love really is still a strategy?

Not a soft answer. Not a sentimental escape.

But a bold refusal to dehumanize. A fierce commitment to presence. A daily, unspectacular faithfulness in the direction of kinship.

What if holiness looks like this:

• Sitting with neighbors you don’t understand.

• Giving away what you don’t need.

• Translating what no one else will.

• Letting the heartbreak of the world turn you into someone more human, not less.

  
  

Charles did not change the world through power. He let love remake him — and then gave that love away.

Maybe we can too.

Want to walk in his footsteps?

Join us for a masterclass with Fr. Lenny Tighe, who has spent 50 years helping people embody the spirituality of Charles de Foucauld in ordinary life.

Whether you’re burned out, overwhelmed, or aching for a different kind of faithfulness, this class is for you.

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This is how the world begins to heal.

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Cameron Bellm is a Seattle-based spiritual writer, speaker, and retreat guide. After completing her PhD in Russian literature, she traded the academic life for the contemplative life, combining her love for language with a deeply-rooted spirituality. Her work can be found at the intersection of mysticism and activism, linking ancient spiritual practice with modern social engagement. Cameron's work has been featured in America Magazine, National Catholic Reporter, Jesuit Media Lab, and more. Her first book, The Sacrament of Paying Attention: How Writers, Artists, and Mystics can Lead Us into Sacred Human Communion, will be published in 2026. When her nose isn't in a book and her feet aren't softly padding through a library, you can find her marveling at the ferns, salmonberries, and spruce trees along a Seattle trail.