Just Give It To The Poor

"Just give it to the poor."

Just recently, those were the very words directed at me by a friend. His thoughts, I suppose, are fairly representative of many active Catholics frustrated with the current state of affairs in some U.S. dioceses. Specifically, with fewer "practicing" Catholics and a shrinking availability of clergy, what is to be done with the beautiful houses of worship where marriages were celebrated, babies were baptized, children were confirmed, funerals were prayed, and, most importantly, where Eucharist was shared? His solution? Given that the Body of Christ has chosen to worship together primarily at Christmas and Easter, let’s simply abandon the brick and mortar and give the proceeds to the poor.

Not long after that conversation, I shared those insights with another friend, who happens to be a theologian with a specialty in liturgy. His thoughts?

"Street-corner worship during the months of November through February might get awfully cold."

Needless to say, if one were to travel back in Church history, certain saints took this "sell it all and give it to the poor approach" quite literally. As an example, take the ancient deacon, St. Lawrence. If you will remember, as a result of an edict pronounced by the third-century emperor, Valerian, all bishops, priests, and deacons were to be killed. One of the seven deacons of the Roman Church, Lawrence's fate and martyrdom would come on 10 August 258; but not before he had followed the directions given him by Pope Sixtus II. His mission: to sell Church property and distribute it to the poor. Sometime later, when asked by authorities to hand over that which the emperor truly desired, St. Lawrence brought before them the nameless poor throughout the city; with whom he had divided the treasure. 

In returning to the present day, I ask and wonder...

In today's society, just who are the poor among us?

For academics, economists, and journalists, the answer to that question is a simple one. After explaining poverty through government income tables and other studies, they would proceed to capture the poor through the lens of an HD camera. Their photographs would contain striking images of persons living in less than ideal housing; mothers and fathers unable to feed themselves or their children; as well as individuals who find themselves unemployed and homeless. Hence, for modernity, the definition of poverty centers around the idea of lacking; specifically, that something is missing or absent. 

It is interesting, then, to return to the original premise of my friend: that fewer and fewer people today feel a need to worship God on a regular basis. And given this reality, can it not be said that something is missing and lacking within their lives? Furthermore, with their absence, is not the worshipping assembly somehow diminished, as well? And if all of this is true, might it be possible that our understanding of poverty- and who is impoverished- is entirely wrong? In the end, perhaps it is the so-called rich who are living in poverty; spiritual poverty, that is.

Really?

Really.

While we Americans have been blessed with many gadgets and gizmos, we have also become a culture that has set itself upon a path which cries out that the way forward should include more of the same. And with our eyes so firmly fixated upon things, is it any surprise that even our favorite television shows revolve around individuals trapped beneath ceramic, plastic, and metal junk that has piled up- from floor to ceiling. Yes, the "stuff" of our lives has come to define and own us. Having taken a stranglehold on our nature, in a very real sense, it has become our end. 

But should not our end rest in God?

Weren't we created in His image and likeness?

Weren't we created...

To know Him, to love Him, and to serve Him?

So quietly, as we gather our thoughts...

In our search for the poor, perhaps we needn't look very far.