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So, instead of violently prying the hard-earned cash from your grasp, perhaps we could reflect on how wealth as a blessing can be utilised in relation to the poor. In short, if we have been blessed, how should we treat the poor?
Recently, there was an incident that took place in another country, famous as the Land of the Free. At present, the southern border has been breached by economic refugees, all desperate for a better life. The Governor of a state besieged by these illegal migrants decided to send 50 aliens in a jet-plane to Martha’s Vineyard—a supposedly self-declared sanctuary island. The reaction to this so-called political ploy was not only explosive but revealing. In fact, the same reactions to these migrants being bussed away from the border states were detected in other similar sanctuary cities.
Politics is always dirty but away from taking sides, the reactions possibly expose a chink in the armour of those who claim to care for the poor. After all they proudly declared themselves to be sanctuary communities and cities.
Their responses can be understood if we consider a condition known as addiction to love. It is a craving for the feelings associated with falling in love. Those who have been in love know that being in love evokes a kind of warm fuzzy feeling that can be therapeutic. It feels good to love and to be loved.
You may have heard of this phenomenon called “disaster tourism”. An example we are familiar with is known as “rubber necking”. Imagine E3 near Kempas where there is a massive pileup of cars. The side of the highway with no incident or mishap is also jammed because necks are craning and straining to see how badly smashed the cars are or better, to read the number plates so that you can buy 4D. That is just voyeurism. What disaster tourism does for some is to give the opportunity to virtue signal—a kind of moral grandstanding that one is there just after a calamity in the thick of where the action is.
To love the poor, it demands more than “virtue signalling”. According to James Bartholomew, the journalist who popularised the term, “Saying the right thing violently on Twitter is much easier than real kindness”. To love the poor, requires more than just proclaiming that we have a place for them “theoretically”. To learn how to love the poor, turn to the most relevant and recent example: St Teresa of Calcutta. She embraced the poor where they were. In short, it means getting our hands dirty, not because the poor are dirty, but rather getting down on our knees to serve the poor.
If we idolise the poor, it is easy to keep them at arm’s length. We create a category in our head that there is a group for whom we need to champion that easily we lose sight of where they are. We group them into a generic whole so that we can easily handle them and in that way, we can feel good about ourselves.
Over the years, Sunday schools throughout the various parishes have tried to conscientise children on the reality of the poor. One way of doing it is to organise the catechism children to visit the poor. Have you ever noticed that come Christmas time, so many companies and corporations are falling over themselves trying to achieve their quota of CSR? However, it is observed that when children are brought to the homes of the aged or to orphanages, many of them will group or gather amongst themselves because they do not know what to do or how to behave with those not of their social status or standing.
Maybe awkwardness is a reflexion of the reality that poverty is too profound for any individual to handle. We may never have adequate resources needed to feed all the poor in the world. In fact, not in a million years will we be able to solve structural poverty. Why? Whatever framework we may come up with to overcome poverty, soon enough other forms of exploitations will emerge from whatever loopholes there are in the structure. Think of the Telcos who participated in soliciting donations. Can you imagine the cut they took for each Ringgit a person donates? As high as 30%. So much for CSR.
The point here is not fixing poverty as if we hold the answer to abolishing it. Instead, what is necessary for our salvation is to take more than a topical interest in poverty. When we reduce poverty to an ideology, it is easy to shy away from being personal and when we are not able to be intimate, the tendency is to virtue signal, that is, express pious sentiments to indicate how good we have been.
In the Gospel, the story revolves around Dives, who is sadly unnamed, and a man, who is starving outside the gate, named Lazarus. It was not a story of a stratum of people, that is, the poor class. If anything, the contrary is more condemning because Dives is not a personal name per se. In Latin, Dives means “rich” and it can easily be translated generically as the “rich class”. In other words, this story is personal in the sense that this specific Dives could have befriended not THE poor as a class but this particular poor man, Lazarus.
The saints routinely model for us their own interactions with individual poor people, not just the poor as a stratum of society. Mother Teresa was saintly because she held and helped so many dying lepers. For her, everyone was important as an individual. In short, her hands, feet and blue-lined cotton-white sari habit were soiled simply because she routinely engaged poor persons.
The way for St Teresa of Calcutta to love the poor was to love Jesus Christ. She and her sisters spend an hour before the Blessed Sacrament every morning before they go out to serve the poor. The more we love Jesus personally, the more we can see Him in individual poor persons. “I was hungry and you gave me food. I was thirsty and you gave me a drink. I was naked and you clothed me… etc”. There is no other way for us to love the poor except personally. Loving the poor ideological can only take us so far. It is when Jesus becomes Whom we love with our heart and soul that we will willingly walk that extra mile even for the poor man or woman who can be ungrateful and who does not deserve our care and concern.
The Gospel of Dives and Lazarus shows us that real contact with an individual poor keeps our love grounded and honest. It makes our love for Jesus Christ more authentic. It is good to take a keen interest in the current issues surrounding poverty but it is infinitely better to befriend, love and serve a poor person because he or she may be the only passport that opens the gates of heaven for your entrance into eternal life.
If you take the Gospel seriously, then the homily shall consist of two straightforward commands. 1. Love God. 2. Give your money to the Church.
Somehow such mandates, simple as they are, just do not cut it. Of the two, loving God sounds easy because it has been drummed into us since young. Giving your money to the Church that is a little harder to swallow. The Gospel requires a little parsing or excavating so that we may better grasp what God is asking of us.
Firstly, the scenario feels rather offensive considering our informed ethos. It would appear as if Jesus were commending someone who had been dishonest. Imagine, Jesus praising Najib for being such a crafty “Crime Minister”.
The background of the narrative is agrarian. In an agricultural society, cash is not really king. Apologies to Najib! When we speak of a town, there are no “high streets” lined with boutiques, sporting the latest range of Hermes’ Berkin bags or Bvlgari jewellery. Farm produce is the conventional currency which people appreciate most. What is the use of “money” if there is really nothing to buy? This backdrop is the context for the steward’s story.
He is to take charge of the master’s estates and to manage them in respect to the produce that is derived from renting out land. He gets a cut from the transactions with renter farmers. It is a sort of management fee. There are three ways of tenancy. For the usage of the land, the master gets 1. A percentage of the produce. It is like a kind of tithing. 2. Fixed amount regardless of how bountiful or poor the harvest may be and lastly. 3. Cold, hard cash.
In the Gospel, our steward was denounced for wastefulness, not laziness or even dishonesty. Thus he was dismissed due to the lack of accountability. However, he was quick enough to seize the opportunity to quickly work something out for himself. He reduced the debt, meaning that he simply forwent his cut for the contracts made. In a way, he was not “cheating” his master but securing a possibility of a future welcome from those to whom he has done a favour for. As such, the master cannot renege on or back out of the deal because that would constitute "mala fidei". In fact, despite the disadvantage of a reduced collection, the master’s fame would grow as the tenants will be singing the praise of his generosity.
The steward was smart or shrewd in the ways of the world. And this should characterise our relationship with regard to money, riches or possessions. However, when wealth is everything, this kind of insight might be hard to come by. I told one of our golden years aunty that the final destination where she will be going to, she cannot take her possessions with her. She had been lamenting that her phone was not working well. I suggested to her: Give away your money or spend it now. Buy a new phone.
Giving it away is one of the hardest things to do. And it is not on account of selfishness. Just to understand why it is hard, we take a side look at weight loss programmes. Do you realise that it is almost impossible to “lose weight”? Why? We naturally look for the items we have lost. Remember last week’s Lost Drachma? The lady swept clean her house to look for the missing coin. Thus, in wilfully attempting to lose weight, somehow unwittingly or unconsciously, we may be looking for the poundage we have shed. In other words, losing weight is really a losing proposition. If anything, one should desire to gain one’s optimal weight.
The point is that we are inadequate, and in our incompleteness, we tend to hold on to what we have, instead of letting it go. Our natural posture of survival is to “cling”, most especially if we have worked hard to accumulate. No one likes to see the fruit of his hard work squandered. Yet, it remains true that none of our achievements nor any portion of our collected wealth can ever cross with us through the portal of death except our merits before Christ the Lord. As Jesus Himself reminded us, “What gains a man if he wins the world but loses his soul?”.
The first lesson from the Gospel is that the astuteness praised by Jesus is not about being cunning or conniving. Instead, it is a kind of cleverness or a sense that sees the world ALWAYS through the lens of heaven. What should I do in order to gain eternal life?
Secondly, letting go is the beginning of true stewardship. The premise of Pope Francis’ “Laudato si” actually rests on a proper appreciation of stewardship. Passing through this world, that means we are no more than a watchman, an administrator or a “jaga”. We look after God’s creation in this world. Mary, the Mother of Jesus was right in her Magnificat: “He looks upon His servant in her nothingness”. We own nothing and if we do, we hold it in trust for the Lord. Many of our ecological and environmental disasters arise because we have forgotten the fundamental principle that we are no more than custodians. Trustworthiness is a mark of good stewardship.
Finally, the steward’s acumen was making arrangements that once his service was no longer needed by the master, he could secure a place amongst those whom he has helped. When we translate this into a spirituality, it is how we can be astute with regard to God’s abundant blessings and use them in a manner so as to gain a place in heaven. Wealth is never personal even though if feels very much so. It is mine. I own it. I obtain it through hard work. No matter how personal riches feel, it is gifted for sharing. If not, wealth has a way of insinuating itself into a god which is why the Gospel emphasises that a good servant knows who the boss is for he cannot be a servant of two masters. God is the only ruler who deserves our everything. It is good to be clever in the ways of the world but it is better to be wise in the ways of heaven. Better to store our treasures of goodness in heaven than to be dragged down to hell by the possessions we cling to.
Jesus is still on the way to Jerusalem. Along the journey, He seemed to have picked up an entourage which then became a perfect teaching moment for Him. What does it mean to follow Him?
His language for discipleship was unvarnished and brutally honest as He placed it in the context of “hatred” for the family. It was harsh which sounds really alien to our ears. But the point is simply that any discipleship which inevitably involves the cross cannot be but brutal and honest. For example, in those halcyon days of missionary outreach, priests, religious brothers and sisters left their homes and countries without ever seeing their motherland again. The hand that is laid to the plough should never look back. Leaving was understood as permanent.
We appeared to have lost that edge. In a way, this development reflects a progressive understanding of human psychology and sociology. We have come to accept that kith and kin are necessary to the spiritual, psychological and physical well-being of a person. But Jesus seemed to think otherwise. A good illustration to assist in understanding this kind of spirit is to appreciate the monastic vocation. The Carthusians live separated from their families and only two days a year can their families visit them. This kind of separation is sacrificially painful but view this in the context of two loves. One is good and the other is better. It is good to have the comfort of familial and friendly relationships. But it is better to belong to God alone. This kind of calling requires the virtues of fortitude and endurance.
Therefore, this calls for a calculation of the cost involved. In any relationship that is consequential, the initial period of the association can be exhilarating. The retinue or the band that tagged along with Jesus must have been thrilled to witness the ease with which He performed many miracles. Just like falling in love for the first time, it can be intoxicating. But over time, when the reality sets in, the rosy picture can take a different hue.
It is only when the going gets tough that the real cost will surface. To endure, we need strength to carry the cross that is laid upon us. Endurance stands on the firm foundation of trust in the Lord. In the 1st Reading, the reason for trusting God is because His ways are never ours. Sadly, in a self-confident world, we seem to be deadly certain that our perspective is the one which is all encompassing. We know and are sure that we are right and our approach is the correct one. In this sense, it does not matter if one were a liberal or a conservative because the relevant question to ask is what happens when one is silenced especially when one is convinced that one’s view is flawless. Ask Henri de Lubac (who later became a Cardinal) or Padre Pio. They were silenced by the Church. They were humiliated but they kept quiet and went about their business. But today anyone censored or muzzled will take to social media to justify his or her position. Nobody is silenced that easily.
The silence of people like Henri de Lubac or Padre Pio requires a lot of trust in the Lord. The “beatitudes” come from this space. When we are hated, persecuted or mistreated in our service of the Church, it is easy to sink into depression. After all, nothing is more painful than betrayal by the very institution we love, trust and serve. In order that we not be overwhelmed by treachery or give in to self-destructive behaviour, we need to believe that God will take care of us. That strength to remain steadfast can only come from deep confidence in God.
There are layers of dying to oneself before arriving at that depth of trust in the Lord. The key here is divestment. In the Gospel, Jesus spoke of possessions. Giving up physical wealth is a good prelude of letting go of our intangible possessions. However, to possess nothing is no guarantee that one trusts in the Lord. Dependence on God takes more than the lack of wealth because one can be poor and yet it does not always translate into faith in Him. In fact, the contrary could be true that one who has nothing tends to want to accumulate.
The post-Resurrection scene by the sea of Tiberias where Jesus prepared fish and bread over fire and invited the fishing Apostles to join Him can teach us a little bit more of what trusting in God is like. Jesus told Peter that a time will come when his hands would be stretched out and a belt fastened on him. Peter would be led to where he would rather not go. Such a docility in allowing the Lord to take charge is far deeper than the lack of possession. The higher we rise in power and prestige, the more intelligent we are with our qualifications, the more wealth we possess, the greater the pain of divestment will be.
The Cross is the price of following Christ. The present notion of a “moralistic therapeutic deity” is not the Christ on the way to Jerusalem. A belief that God exists to make us happy and feel good about ourselves is not the God of Sacred Scriptures. In our age, we seem to have confused consolation with feeling good. Consolation is a peace which can weather all kinds of storms because it keeps the eyes fixed on Jesus whom we follow and on the destination that we are moving to.
Discipleship is always radical in the service of the Lord. I remember an anecdote regarding St Bernadette who was constantly ill and was unable to do manual work. When a complaint was lodged against her, she replied calmly that “her work was to be sick”. She became a saint not because she saw Our Lady. She was raised to the altar of sanctity for her willing acceptance of sickness and suffering. This is not a counsel of “fatal resignation”. The first thing one ought to do when sick is to look for healing and for a cure to one’s ailment. What happens when all avenues have been exhausted? Would one dare to praise God for the vocation to be sick?
The example of Bernadette shows us that there is always a price to be paid. At its most profound it will require that one lays down one’s life. Thus, to follow Jesus, we have to be serious in prioritising Him. He comes first before all else. Secondly, the Cross will always be a part of discipleship. Thirdly, count the cost before we embark on the perilous journey of following Him. Fourthly, it is said that God does not call the qualified but He qualifies the called. In other words, if He calls you, trust Him because He will provide strength for the journey.
It is not that Jesus will not make the journey easier because He is capricious or cruel. Instead, there are powers that are arrayed against His Kingdom. Satan wants to overthrow the Kingdom of Christ and that renders discipleship dangerous. The call to discipleship is total and not merely a token. Thus, those who have followed Him fully will tell you that nothing in this world will ever take the place of the joy and the peace that comes from having fully surrendered their lives to Him.
