The other day I entered a theological reflection with a friend of mine on the topic of poverty. We have dinner together once a week, and more often than not, he has a theological question for me. These are great discussions, as he has often done is homework!
By the end of our discussion he expressed the following desire: I wish the church was more clear on teaching this. So, with those thoughts in mind, he is a bit of our reflection.
We first started by noticing how Jesus grew up: a Jewish peasant. Being Jewish meant he had a long theological / cultural history, but was a minority in the Roman Empire. It is interesting to think about the fact that many people of a Roman cultural standpoint considered Jewish Monotheism as a atheist. The Roman Empire was an agricultural based community with North Africa being the bread bowl for the Empire. Like many agriculturally based communities (especially of the ancient world) there were very few at the top and a whole lot of people in the peasant category. I should mention that "peasant" is actually a technical term. To be a peasant, one has to live in a power relationship with an urban area that is demanding goods. Furthermore, what we would categorize a peasant actually had many categories/levels: some of these appear in the Gospel stories. For instance: notice that when Jesus is walking the beach of the Sea of Galilee he calls two brothers to follow him who are working with their father on a boat, and two brothers who are throwing nets from the shore. Some of Jesus' fishermen followers were from two different classes. Have you noticed that Jesus (and his father Joseph) were builders (often translated as carpenters). This means they were part of a landless class of people who were making their lives as Artisans. The third group at the bottom would be the Expendables: i.e. unskilled day laborers, etc. So the bottom levels of society in Jesus' day would be the Peasants (who have land - or at least some control over their land); the Artisans (builders, potters, etc. who have lost their land [maybe they were the 2nd Son and didn't inherit?] but are able to scrape a living in a similar fashion as the Peasant class); and then lastly the Expendables.
There is some scriptural hinting that part of the issue between Jesus and his family is that the family wanted Jesus to set-up shop as a spiritual healer in a town in the Galilee. This would increase the status of the family (and likely the community) and move the family up the ladder of the Peasant hierarchy (think in terms of getting the better paying job and moving to the better neighborhood in town). This wouldn't be just a Jesus impact, but an entire community impact. Yet Jesus decides to forgo this live style for one of a wondering teacher/healer prophet as he heads toward Jerusalem.
It is also interesting to note how the larger church community quickly changes some of Jesus' instructions. Look for instance at what he instructs the disciples to wear as they set out on their mission traveling two by two. Look how the instructions change regarding foot wear and staffs and cloaks, etc. Then look at how the Sermon on the Mount has changed from Luke to Matthew: "Blessed are the Poor" vs. "Blessed are the Poor
in spirit." Already the church community has seen things as a little too radical.
Does all this emphasis on the poor equate with a special holiness in being poor?
The delight (and problem) with language and culture is that we have ways of explaining things that we couldn't last week or last year or 1,000 years ago. Our cultural understanding improves. One of the things that I think many church leaders (and social scientists) are clear about is that there is nothing redeeming about abject poverty. Of course, I should say what looks like abject poverty in the United States differs from place to place, and doesn't look like abject poverty in Guatemala. So, there is nothing redeeming about poverty. At the same time, there is nothing redeeming about wealth. In fact, from a spiritual standpoint (no matter which religious tradition you come from) wealth brings lots of traps. But there is something about
voluntary poverty.
Voluntary poverty implies a choice, that one could choose to not be poor. The implied choice is that one has chosen to live in a similar manner, but one could choose otherwise. This, I think, is where the historic Church has praised those who have taken a vow of poverty. In deciding to live their lives alongside those whom the larger society has seen as the most vulnerable or forgotten they, too, put their trust in God. Somehow the process opens these people up to a way to be humble, trusting and vulnerable. I think that is the part that becomes (or has the chance to become) holy about the lifestyle.
Choosing to live simply can do the same thing.
Seeing myself as a small part of something far greater than my self, humbles me. It helps to keep my "problems" in perspective. But I find, it also impacts my life-style. I find myself asking questions like: Do I really have the right to consume so much x, y or z that I use it all up? One of the reasons I like boating and living on the water is that it constantly puts me in touch with larger forces than myself. If nothing else, it sure keeps me humble.
Blessed be,
Joel
