During his
Christmas-Eve homily, our pastor repeated the staggering declaration he'd
unloaded on us during the Thanksgiving-Day mass:
Everything
we have that is in excess of what we must have to meet our needs… belongs to
the poor.
In this
statement, I think some folks might just suspect they hear an echo of the
torch-bearing, mud-faced rabble at their gates. This is not so, however; it was
not a call to societal revolution from the pulpit, but rather a call to
revolution of our comfortable-Americans' tight grip on our wallets when it
comes to seeing to the needy.
Certainly a
hurricane flooding a city (especially when the city isn't Crawford or
Kennebunkport), a pair of skyscrapers brought down by a mangy handful of
cowards, a country stripped bare by tsunami, a village by earthquake or
mudslide… will embolden quite a few of us to open the wallet-strings and roll
up our sleeves.
And so we
must. But – as Jesus Himself said – we will "always have
the poor"; eventually the catastrophes are remedied, the dead buried and
mourned, the displaced rehoused, and so on. But conditions of need and poverty
remain.
I don't know
about you, but thinking about this gets me to squirming in real discomfort.
Beyond my several-times-a-year boxload or bagload of clothing, computers, etc.,
to Goodwill, and the three days I spent earlier this month helping out
(I was paid, not volunteered… and so I squirm more) at the Salvation Army, and
my church-offerings… well, these are all easily done, and low-demand. But it's
been years since I pitched in at the local soup kitchen, for instance.
Indulge the
uncomfortable thought a little longer. Posit a Judgment Day, okay? You can be
agnostic, atheistic, or exempt (however you've rationalized it) the rest of
today. But just for now, posit a moment, after death, when who you are and what
you've done is laid out before you and your creator-judge. How many people in
need will speak up in your defense? How many non-ignored hungry people –
down the street, or across any ocean you can imagine – will say that you
alleviated a credible amount of their desperation? Their children's?
You see why
I squirm?
Well, at
this point a lot of people duck out by slickly sliding over to the
warm-and-fuzzy belief that a loving, benevolent God does not judge, but rather
lives by compassion and forgiveness. Maybe… but I'd rather be prepared for
somewhat less rosy-colored scenarios. Just posit with me on this, okay? And
so... I'm squirming.
Sure,
"Jesus loves me, this I know", and all that – but doesn't he also
love the poor and suffering every bit as much as He loves me, in my
heated/cooled house? Here where there's food in the fridge and cabinets and in
a gift basket on my bed beside me, in fact? (Thanks, Alicia and Levi!) Down the
hall I have hot water within seconds, and a flushing toilet. I can drive to the
hospital or doctor or dentist if something goes wrong, or press 9+1+1 on my
cell phone if I can't drive.
I bet I
could walk down the road for ten or fifteen minutes, and find a sidewalk-spot,
or doorway, where someone will be sleeping tonight, or slept last week. I bet
you could too. How many meals could your brand-new Wii buy? How many nights of
housing would your iPod have bought? Will God's justice – even his fairness – simply
overlook this, once you're laid in the cold earth? Will He simply forget the
desperation of the majority of humankind?
If you're
not squirming now, or at least squawking in objection, your heart has
shut down… or your earbuds have drowned out the sound of its beating. Regardless;
I've set you up now for the second point – corollary or parallel; whatever – to
Father's staggering statement, which he also made during the Christmas-Eve
Mass:
The poor own
Heaven.
Period.
Don't you
remember the Beatitudes from Sunday School? You'll find them in Matthew
5:3-12 and Luke 6:20-22 (and following). Luke records the
very first one as "Blessed are you who are poor, for the kingdom of God is
yours". This may mean, yes, simply that they are assured a Heavenly reward
for all they've suffered here on earth.
But… are you
going to bet all your marbles that this is not quite
literal, and doesn't in fact mean that the poor actually own
Heaven? Don't know about you, sister/brother… but I don't dare.
Yes;
Matthew's parallel (5:3) reads "the poor in spirit". But I
repeat: are you gonna bet everything you have and are on Jesus' words referring
strictly to the spiritually struggling?
If your many
platters of Christmas-feast leftovers are beginning to taste a bit sour in your
gut right about now (they sure are in mine), then His message has not fallen on
deaf ears, or blind eyes.
No comments:
Post a Comment