Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
God reminds us today, both through the Prophet Amos and through the Son of God, Jesus Christ, that we have a responsibility to care for the poor. That might make us a little uncomfortable, as we have a lot of poor people here in Flint, and caring for them requires a certain amount of resources. Pope St. Paul VI, in his homily for the canonization of St. Juan Macias, a Dominican friar, said, “When we say that Juan Macias was poor, we do not mean the kind of poverty that can never be sought or blessed by God: the poverty which is culpable or due to passive inertia with regard to earning a legitimate sufficiency.” So there is a type of poverty that is, we might say, vicious, because it stems from laziness.
But, there also exists a poverty which does not come from natural sloth, but comes from an inability to care for oneself, as Lazarus in the Gospel was unable to do. His sores meant that he had to keep away from most people, which certainly meant he could not earn a living. Jesus says that he should have been a reminder to the rich man at whose door he rested. But the rich man ignored Lazarus. Even the dogs cared for Lazarus more than the rich man, as the dogs licked the sores to try to clean them.
This type of poverty we have a responsibility to alleviate according to our means. Why? Because God has a special love for those who cannot care for themselves. In Old Testament times, this meant the poor, widows, and orphans, who had no means of familial support but had to rely on the generosity of strangers. In our times, when we have many agencies that care for the poor, be they religious groups or government offices, which can make us think that we don’t have to do anything any more. I think of the exchange between Ebeneezer Scrooge and two men collecting money for the poor:
“At this festive season of the year, Mr. Scrooge…it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the Poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time…”
“Are there no prisons?” asked Scrooge.
“Plenty of prisons,” said the gentleman…
“And the Union workhouses?” demanded Scrooge. “Are they still in operation?”
“They are. Still,” returned the gentleman, “I wish I could say they were not.”
“The Treadmill and the Poor Law are in full vigour, then?” said Scrooge.
“Both very busy, sir.”
[Scrooge said,] “I help to support the establishments I have mentioned: they cost enough: and those who are badly off must go there.”
“Many can’t go there; and many would rather die.”
“If they would rather die,” said Scrooge, “they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.”
Scrooge supported with his taxes prisons for the poor and workhouses for the poor, which often had deplorable conditions themselves, but in the end, felt that the poor should rather die and not burden society so much. How much of Scrooge still remains in our heart?
God calls us to care for the poor because through our care, people learn about the loving concern of our heavenly Father. Those who are not able to work, whether because of a physical limitation, and all too often these days mental handicaps, are still children of our heavenly Father and human beings worthy of respect. Do our actions, the way we treat people who are poor, demonstrate respect or something other treatment?
This is why we annually provide toys for Christmas for low-income families; food for people, especially at St. Mary Oratory on the east side of Flint; the work with the North End Soup Kitchen; and Hope in a Box for Catholic Charities: when we work together, we can do more to help them poor than we could by ourselves. But we try to offer opportunities so that we can live up to our call to care for the poor and imitate our heavenly Father.
Certainly, it can be hard to discern who truly needs assistance, and who tries to scam people. Those who are poor from laziness, or those who try to get money pretending to be poor, certainly have a harsh judgement awaiting them, as it not only affects their own person, but makes many people question assistance to the poor.
But there is also spiritual poverty, which is no less prevalent and no less problematic. St. Teresa of Calcutta once said, “The poverty in the West is a different kind of poverty–it is not only a poverty of loneliness but also of spirituality. There’s a hunger for love, as there is a hunger for God.” You can have a full belly and warm clothes and a house in which to sleep, but if you do not have God, you are still poor, because you lack the treasure buried in the field and the pearl of great price: a loving friendship with God which makes all of life worth living.
[Cameron today you have been accepted into Order of Catechumens. You have acknowledged your spiritual poverty and God wants to make you rich. No, you may not increase in financial stability, but God will pour out all His graces that you need to go to heaven, where no one lacks for any good things. Like all of us baptized, it is only when we recognize our poverty, our need for God, that God fills us with His grace and love. You have cried out to God in your poverty, God has heard you, and God is preparing to give you the best inheritance you could imagine: eternal life in heaven after a life of following Him on earth. When you have God, even if you have nothing, you have it all. When you don’t have God, even if you own everything the world can give you, you have nothing.]
May all of us, then, continue to work to provide for the poor, whether financial or spiritual poverty. May we do so, not begrudgingly, not as a “requirement” that we have to check off, but as an expression of love for our brothers and sisters who lack sufficient resources, be they food, clothing, or the knowledge and love of God. May we not live like the rich, who ignored Lazarus right in front of him, but see each person as a child of God, worthy of dignity, respect, and whatever assistance we can give, even if that is simply prayer.
