Lord: "We have left everything to follow you!"

Unless you’ve lived or worked in a third world country, we Americans have no idea what real poverty means or feels like. While we do have poverty in America, this is not Calcutta, or Haiti, or southern Mexico, or the garbage dump in India made famous by the Oscar winning movie, Slumdog Millionaire. The “poor” are among us here in the States but overall, abject, gut wrenching poverty is non-existent here. We don’t find people living on garbage dumps or dying in droves on the streets. We have social programs, albeit controversial at times, such as welfare and assistance for low income families and children, which do offer some relief.

The Catholic Church has Catholic Charities, Catholic Relief Services, and the St. Vincent de Paul Society chapters everywhere which bring assistance to those who truly need it. We have compassionate people who give of their time for the sake of others. We must work towards greater justice and alleviate people’s needless suffering as much as possible in this country and elsewhere. Our social justice principal about the “preferential option for the poor” should always be a measure of the worthiness of any program or institution which claims to alleviate poverty and promote right justice.

The Gospel for Mass yesterday is timely here. In this Ordinary Time, the classroom of Christian living, we hear of discipleship. It is a conversation between Peter and Jesus in (Mark 10: 28-31):

“Peter began to say to Jesus, ‘We have given up everything and followed you.’” True, they did. Jesus called them away from their livelihood to be his followers. Of course, that call was not obligatory. They voluntarily ran from their fishing or whatever they were doing, such as collecting taxes in the case of Matthew, and followed Jesus. They listened, sat at his feet, witnessed and heard what he did and said. They obviously found it attractive enough to “give up everything.” A kind of voluntary poverty was embraced by these Apostles but the pull of Jesus must have been extraordinary for them to make such a sacrifice.

What was Jesus’ answer to Peter’s question? “Amen, I say to you, there is no one who has given up house or brothers or sister or mother or father or children or lands for my sake and for the sake of the Gospel who will not receive a hundred times more now in this present age: . . . with persecution, and eternal life in the age to come . . .”

Hmm. What would you say to that? It’s a promise that Peter’s choice and that of anyone who would renounce the normal rights and possessions of every day life might want to hear. I’m not sure how comforting the persecution part is but the cost of discipleship is not all for naught. Rewards do come both in this life and we hope in the next. But, the “what’s in it for me” question may be the initial frustration we can hear in Peter’s voice. On the surface it does seem that Jesus asks a lot of his followers.

But, how centered is my life on the Lord Jesus? I once heard a quote, offered by a Carmelite Nun, which essentially stated, “True disciples of Jesus are very rare.” Does this mean only the poor can be true disciples? It does seem that God has a particular place in his heart for those who suffer, those who are materially poor, for those who are ready to sacrifice, for those who do not count the cost, and for those who embrace life as it comes to them. God has provided indelible models for us to emulate.

St. Francis of Assisi is likely the quintessential embodiment of the Gospel call to detachment. Blessed Mother Teresa and her Christ-like compassion for the poorest of the poor, invited us to see Jesus in the face of the poor, hungry, dying, and especially in the innocent children. St. Francis de Sales, 16th century Bishop of Geneva, Switzerland, once said, “Ask for nothing, refuse nothing; we must simply abandon ourselves into the hands of Providence, without nourishing any other desire but to do whatever God wills.”

Whether it is Francis of Assisi, Mother Teresa, Francis de Sales, Vincent de Paul, or Peter, the lesson on detachment as a condition for discipleship is all too familiar. It remains a daily examination of our conscience every time we ask ourselves: “Do I need this or do I want this?”

Now, there is nothing wrong with a little luxury now and then. We all like nice things, myself included. But is that what we live for? Is that the measure of our self-worth? If I lost my possessions today, could I get on with life? Such an event as loosing a house in a fire is tragic but in the end, its only stuff. Bottom line, the more we have the more we worry about what we have.

I don’t believe the Gospel call to detachment or Jesus’ words to Peter call us to poverty for the sake of poverty. Why would anyone deliberately choose to be poor simply to be poor? Unless you’re compiling some sort of sociological data on the experience and cause of poverty, such a choice would be strange at the least.

As Jesus said to Peter, “. . . for my sake and for the sake of the Gospel . . .” For a greater good; a higher motivation; for the cause of holiness and for the sake of another we might embrace some sense of poverty or simplicity of life. Considering the present state of the world’s economy, many don’t have a choice.

But, if we claim to adopt these values, to be a follower of Christ, while at the same time we hold on tightly to what we have, which in the end holds on to us even more strongly, then Jesus would have never asked Peter or anyone to be his followers. Sell what you have? Maybe in some cases but I’m not advocating we just clear out our living spaces and live on dirt floors. Much conversation can take place over that issue.

Jesus calls us all to conversion of heart and life. It seems to me, that is the bottom line. I was speaking to a brother priest the other day about a man we both know. This man is worth literally millions of dollars. Yet, he is extremely generous with the Church and other causes. He referred to him as, “St. Francis with money.” I found that a wonderful characterization. He doesn’t live in poverty by any means but is able to put his call to Christian generosity in perspective by his Catholic faith. Yet, it’s not only about money.

Unless we remove what is holding on to us be it possessions, sinful habits, my past hurts, constantly seeking the approval of others, or always asking, “What’s in it for me,” can we honestly claim to follow Jesus? A thought to ponder.