In Pope Francis's Lenten message*, he writes about poverty and how God works by revealing Himself in the weakness and poverty of Christ, not worldly power and wealth. For Christ emptied himself so that he could be like us in all things. (Philippians 2:7)
The Pope goes on to explain just what that poverty is, that we, as people of faith should emulate:
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.
Through the voluntary act of giving up His will to the Father, Christ became the perfect conduit of God's love. He was, and is, our loving neighbour, just as the Good Samaritan was neighbour to the man left dead by the side of the road.
The question therefore begged: is my faith that strong that I can experience the compassion, tenderness and solidarity of Christ's love to the extent I can live out the wealth of true freedom, true salvation and true happiness? Or do I live out a very real kind of poverty, which is, as the Pope put it: not living as children of God and brothers and sisters of Christ?
If we believe, we are asked to share Christ's filial and fraternal Spirit in what we do to aid our neighbour and save the world. To love as He did.
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.
Pope Francis goes on to make a distinction between poverty and destitution. 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.
The Pope elaborates:
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.
Moral destitution consists in slavery to vice and sin. Or where people no longer see meaning in life or prospects for the future, a hopelessness triggered by unjust social conditions, by unemployment, and by lack of equal access to education and health care. In such cases, moral destitution can be considered impending suicide.
Spiritual destitution is what 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.
To act against material destitution we begin by recognizing Christ's face in the poor and outcast, and by loving and helping them. We seek to end violations of human dignity, discrimination and abuse.
To help the morally and spiritually destitute, we 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.
As Pope Francis goes on to remind us: 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.
At the same time, it serves us well to remember that Lent is not about constricting but lengthening, growing in 'this great season of grace'**.
Father Philip Endean writes: Lent is really about is opening ourselves to someone else, about stretching ourselves, so that we can receive the gift of new life coming from God alone.
In order for this to happen, we need to be in touch with what can transform us, what makes us confront new questions, what stretches our commitment and identity. It is that kind of focus that should characterise Lent. Where am I growing? Where are these questions in my life? Where am I being called to something deeper – something which, precisely as such, I cannot get my head round? What is my equivalent of the desert, of Jesus’s temptations? How can I enter into that place fully, freely, generously?
Let us not fall back on facile answers or standard Lenten practices but seek "to be creative, and develop practices that are less conventionally ‘penitential’". Put some real thought and elbow grease into what are worthy penitential practices.
God's divine purpose is for us to grow and never more so than in the season of Lent. Let us not forget we are, ultimately, an Easter people, and that Lent is a time for us "to be open to the one who calls light out of darkness, brings life out of death."
Make this Lent a time of stretching into poverty, Christ's poverty, and be light and salt to those around you.
* http://www.zenit.org/en/articles/pope-francis-lenten-message-2014
** http://www.thinkingfaith.org/articles/20140304_1.htm
The Pope goes on to explain just what that poverty is, that we, as people of faith should emulate:
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.
Through the voluntary act of giving up His will to the Father, Christ became the perfect conduit of God's love. He was, and is, our loving neighbour, just as the Good Samaritan was neighbour to the man left dead by the side of the road.
The question therefore begged: is my faith that strong that I can experience the compassion, tenderness and solidarity of Christ's love to the extent I can live out the wealth of true freedom, true salvation and true happiness? Or do I live out a very real kind of poverty, which is, as the Pope put it: not living as children of God and brothers and sisters of Christ?
If we believe, we are asked to share Christ's filial and fraternal Spirit in what we do to aid our neighbour and save the world. To love as He did.
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.
Pope Francis goes on to make a distinction between poverty and destitution. 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.
The Pope elaborates:
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.
Moral destitution consists in slavery to vice and sin. Or where people no longer see meaning in life or prospects for the future, a hopelessness triggered by unjust social conditions, by unemployment, and by lack of equal access to education and health care. In such cases, moral destitution can be considered impending suicide.
Spiritual destitution is what 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.
To act against material destitution we begin by recognizing Christ's face in the poor and outcast, and by loving and helping them. We seek to end violations of human dignity, discrimination and abuse.
To help the morally and spiritually destitute, we 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.
As Pope Francis goes on to remind us: 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.
At the same time, it serves us well to remember that Lent is not about constricting but lengthening, growing in 'this great season of grace'**.
Father Philip Endean writes: Lent is really about is opening ourselves to someone else, about stretching ourselves, so that we can receive the gift of new life coming from God alone.
In order for this to happen, we need to be in touch with what can transform us, what makes us confront new questions, what stretches our commitment and identity. It is that kind of focus that should characterise Lent. Where am I growing? Where are these questions in my life? Where am I being called to something deeper – something which, precisely as such, I cannot get my head round? What is my equivalent of the desert, of Jesus’s temptations? How can I enter into that place fully, freely, generously?
Let us not fall back on facile answers or standard Lenten practices but seek "to be creative, and develop practices that are less conventionally ‘penitential’". Put some real thought and elbow grease into what are worthy penitential practices.
God's divine purpose is for us to grow and never more so than in the season of Lent. Let us not forget we are, ultimately, an Easter people, and that Lent is a time for us "to be open to the one who calls light out of darkness, brings life out of death."
Make this Lent a time of stretching into poverty, Christ's poverty, and be light and salt to those around you.
* http://www.zenit.org/en/articles/pope-francis-lenten-message-2014
** http://www.thinkingfaith.org/articles/20140304_1.htm
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