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He became poor,
so that by his poverty you might become rich
(cf. 2 Cor 8:9)
Dear Brothers and
Sisters,
As Lent draws
near, I would like to offer some helpful thoughts on our path of conversion
as individuals and as a community. These insights are inspired by the words
of Saint Paul: "For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that
though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that by his
poverty you might become rich" (2 Cor8:9). The Apostle was
writing to the Christians of Corinth to encourage them to be generous in
helping the faithful in Jerusalem who were in need. What do these words of
Saint Paul mean for us Christians today? What does this invitation to
poverty, a life of evangelical poverty, mean for us today?
1. Christ’s grace
First of all, it
shows us how God works. He does not reveal himself cloaked in worldly power
and wealth but rather in weakness and poverty: "though He was rich,
yet for your sake he became poor …". Christ, the eternal Son of God,
one with the Father in power and glory, chose to be poor; he came amongst
us and drew near to each of us; he set aside his glory and emptied himself
so that he could be like us in all things (cf. Phil 2:7; Heb 4:15).
God’s becoming man is a great mystery! But the reason for all this is his
love, a love which is grace, generosity, a desire to draw near, a love
which does not hesitate to offer itself in sacrifice for the beloved.
Charity, love, is sharing with the one we love in all things. Love makes us
similar, it creates equality, it breaks down walls and eliminates
distances. God did this with us. Indeed, Jesus "worked with human
hands, thought with a human mind, acted by human choice and loved with a
human heart. Born of the Virgin Mary, he truly became one of us, like us in
all things except sin." (Gaudium et Spes, 22).
By making himself
poor, Jesus did not seek poverty for its own sake but, as Saint Paul says
"that by his poverty you might become rich". This is no
mere play on words or a catch phrase. Rather, it sums up God’s logic, the
logic of love, the logic of the incarnation and the cross. God did not let
our salvation drop down from heaven, like someone who gives alms from their
abundance out of a sense of altruism and piety. Christ’s love is different!
When Jesus stepped into the waters of the Jordan and was baptized by John
the Baptist, he did so not because he was in need of repentance, or
conversion; he did it to be
among people who need forgiveness, among us sinners, and to take upon
himself the burden of our sins. In this way he chose to comfort us, to save
us, to free us from our misery. It is striking that the Apostle states that
we were set free, not by Christ’s riches but by his poverty.
Yet Saint Paul is well aware of the "the unsearchable riches of
Christ" (Eph 3:8), that he is "heir of all
things" (Heb 1:2).
So what is this poverty by which
Christ frees us and enriches us? It is his way of loving us, his way of
being our neighbour, just as the Good Samaritan was neighbour to the man
left half dead by the side of the road (cf. Lk 10:25ff).
What gives us true freedom, true salvation and true happiness is the
compassion, tenderness and solidarity of his love. Christ’s poverty which
enriches us is his taking flesh and bearing our weaknesses and sins as an
expression of God’s infinite mercy to us. Christ’s poverty is the greatest
treasure of all: Jesus’ wealth is that of his boundless confidence in God
the Father, his constant trust, his desire always and only to do the
Father’s will and give glory to him. Jesus is rich in the same way as a
child who feels loved and who loves its parents, without doubting their
love and tenderness for an instant. Jesus’ wealth lies in his being the
Son; his unique relationship with the Father is the sovereign
prerogative of this Messiah who is poor. When Jesus asks us to take up his
"yoke which is easy", he asks us to be enriched by his
"poverty which is rich" and his "richness which is
poor", to share his filial and fraternal Spirit, to become sons and
daughters in the Son, brothers and sisters in the firstborn brother
(cf. Rom 8:29).
It has been said that the only
real regret lies in not being a saint (L. Bloy); we could also say that
there is only one real kind of poverty: not living as children of God and
brothers and sisters of Christ.
2. Our witness
We might think that this
"way" of poverty was Jesus’ way, whereas we who come after him
can save the world with the right kind of human resources. This is not the
case. In every time and place God continues to save mankind and the
world through the poverty of Christ, who makes himself poor in
the sacraments, in his word and in his Church, which is a people of the
poor. God’s wealth passes not through our wealth, but invariably and
exclusively through our personal and communal poverty, enlivened by the
Spirit of Christ.
In imitation of our Master, we
Christians are called to confront the poverty of our brothers and sisters,
to touch it, to make it our own and to take practical steps to alleviate
it. Destitution is not the same as poverty:
destitution is poverty without faith, without support, without hope. There
are three types of destitution: material, moral and spiritual. Material
destitution is what is normally called poverty, and affects those
living in conditions opposed to human dignity: those who lack basic rights
and needs such as food, water, hygiene, work and the opportunity to develop
and grow culturally. In response to this destitution, the Church offers her
help, her diakonia, in meeting these needs and binding these
wounds which disfigure the face of humanity. In the poor and outcast we see
Christ’s face; by loving and helping the poor, we love and serve Christ.
Our efforts are also directed to ending violations of human dignity,
discrimination and abuse in the world, for these are so often the cause of
destitution. When power, luxury and money become idols, they take priority
over the need for a fair distribution of wealth. Our consciences thus need
to be converted to justice, equality, simplicity and sharing.
No less a concern is moral
destitution, which consists in slavery to vice and sin. How much pain
is caused in families because one of their members – often a young person -
is in thrall to alcohol, drugs, gambling or pornography! How many people no
longer see meaning in life or prospects for the future, how many have lost
hope! And how many are plunged into this destitution by unjust social
conditions, by unemployment, which takes away their dignity as
breadwinners, and by lack of equal access to education and health care. In
such cases, moral destitution can be considered impending suicide. This
type of destitution, which also causes financial ruin, is invariably linked
to the spiritual destitution which we experience when we
turn away from God and reject his love. If we think we don’t need God who
reaches out to us through Christ, because we believe we can make do on our
own, we are headed for a fall. God alone can truly save and free us.
The Gospel is the real antidote
to spiritual destitution: wherever we go, we are called as Christians to
proclaim the liberating news that forgiveness for sins committed is
possible, that God is greater than our sinfulness, that he freely loves us
at all times and that we were made for communion and eternal life. The Lord
asks us to be joyous heralds of this message of mercy and hope! It is thrilling
to experience the joy of spreading this good news, sharing the treasure
entrusted to us, consoling broken hearts and offering hope to our brothers
and sisters experiencing darkness. It means following and imitating Jesus,
who sought out the poor and sinners as a shepherd lovingly seeks his lost
sheep. In union with Jesus, we can courageously open up new paths of
evangelization and human promotion.
Dear brothers and sisters, may
this Lenten season find the whole Church ready to bear witness to all those
who live in material, moral and spiritual destitution
the Gospel message of the merciful love of God our Father, who is ready to
embrace everyone in Christ. We can do this to the extent that we imitate
Christ who became poor and enriched us by his poverty. Lent is a fitting
time for self-denial; we would do well to ask ourselves what we can give up
in order to help and enrich others by our own poverty. Let us not forget
that real poverty hurts: no self-denial is real without this dimension of
penance. I distrust a charity that costs nothing and does not hurt.
May the Holy
Spirit, through whom we are "as poor, yet making many rich; as having
nothing, and yet possessing everything" (2 Cor 6:10),
sustain us in our resolutions and increase our concern and responsibility
for human destitution, so that we can become merciful and act with mercy.
In expressing this hope, I likewise pray that each individual member of the
faithful and every Church community will undertake a fruitful Lenten
journey. I ask all of you to pray for me. May the Lord bless you and Our
Lady keep you safe.
FRANCISCUS
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