by Jason WildeHow I would love a church that is poor and for the poor. I remember reading this quote from Pope Francis’ speech back in 2013, days after he was named as the next successor of Peter to the Catholic Church. At the time, I don't think I got it, or even agreed with it. Our family had always been privileged to be part of large megaparishes that were always in need of more space, and the consistent message before each capital campaign was that our population would continue growing beyond capacity unless we did something to expand. And so, in my mind, it didn't make sense to be a poor church when we already had to show up 20 minutes early for Mass so that we could secure a seat. Two years later, my wife and I sat in a dark basilica in Asia that didn't even turn on the electricity until seconds before the entrance hymn. This church was visually impressive, and yet it didn't have much. It was a poor church. Still, they ran a much needed soup kitchen for the poor in the courtyard just outside the open walls. And when I say poor, I mean that this may have been the first time that I actually saw not just poverty, but real destitution. How could this church that barely kept lights on afford to serve in such a generous manner? Fast forward two more years, and we had just returned from a mission trip where we physically encountered, ministered, and served the poorest people I have ever befriended. We came home to our parish and were on fire to keep serving. The response was depressing. After meeting with various secretaries in the parish office, we were simply told "we don't let families do this sort of thing. Your kids are free to contribute to a rice bowl donation box, though!" The revelation that my church was incapable of allowing its own parishioners to actually encounter the poor brought me back to this quote from Pope Francis, but now it had a completely different meaning. I was focused so much on the 'poor church' part that I had completely missed that it should be 'for the poor'. It was like putting the cart before the horse. Without an attitude of service and encounter that is preferentially for the poor, we cannot begin to understand why we should be poor ourselves. 'For the poor', didn't just simply mean obligatory tithing, but "embracing all, those who are weak, vulnerable, and most in need (who) deserve preferential concern" (USCCB, Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship, 2017). I kind of felt like Jesus must have when He entered the temple at Jerusalem and saw all kinds of markets and money changers who made profits from God's temple, and yet, there were still poor and vulnerable children of God who could only afford to give a few coins, their "whole livelihood" (Lk 21:4). Now, many will point out that the Catholic Church is one of the most charitable institutions in the world, and yes, it is an important caretaker of the poor in so many ways: schools, hospitals, homes, and soup kitchens among the short list of charities. But, can we in good conscious say that our church at the parish level is 'for the poor'? Or is it merely an institution that spends resources to care for the poor? The Church...is not a relief organization, an enterprise or an NGO, but a community of people..." What exactly does this mean to be 'for the poor'? Let's start by not focusing so much on merely on those with a lack of adequate financial resources and broaden the definition to "a more profound kind of deprivation, a denial of full participation in the economic, social, and political life of society" (USCCB, Economic Justice for All, 1986). When our family lived in rural Costa Rica, we befriended quite a few people who had migrated from Nicaragua but did not have official documentation of their place of origin. Because of this, the Church did not recognize their status, politically and sacramentally. Some couples had lived in the same house for years but could not be married, while others could not even be baptized because the requirement for this sacrament was a birth certificate (which they did not carry with them to Costa Rica). As a result of this and other social ills that had been set up, it was difficult to encourage a Nicaraguan to attend Mass because they felt denigrated by locals. It was common to find a separate congregation of people who did not feel welcome and would stand outside the back wall of the church during Mass. Some who did come inside would be visibly outcast. In this community, there was grave sacramental poverty that resulted from deprivation of full participation in the social life of this society. The Church, both lay and clergy, was not on their side; there was no preference given to these poor, and so this is an example of the Church not working for the poor. While we could serve the physical needs of this segregated community, we were prohibited from fulfilling their sacramental needs, and this in turn prevented them from participating fully in the community. Turning back to Pope Francis' definition, we felt kind of like an NGO. I was reminded of this kind of poverty earlier this year when churches were forced to close because of COVID-19 concerns. It was somehow spiritually fulfilling for my family to live in solidarity with these friends who could never receive sacraments. We gained blessing by living "poor in spirit" (Mt 5:3). But, as churches slowly reopened or found ways around local ordinances, we began to notice the same path of segregation from our community. My wife, because of two long and painful years with the after-effects of cancer, is in multiple 'at-risk' categories, and so we discerned and were told by multiple doctors to just stay home. We actually received a call from our parish in the first few weeks of closure asking how everything was going, and at the time, we really had no complaints, spiritually or physically. But, after a few weeks, life moved on for most of the Church, and slowly we began reading and hearing statements in our local Catholic media, social media, and parish communications that denounced local orders to prevent the spread of the virus. Clergy were often seen without masks and telling people that it was more important to risk one's life than to miss sacraments (never mind that it usually isn't one's own life at risk). This, in turn, evolved into a spirit of defiance among the lay community who would encourage in-person only events with no practical protection against virus spread. Even worse for my children’s spiritual health, we have not been able to attend to their formative sacramental needs that have been in-person only because “children are not at-risk". We have been told that we are endangering the health, minds, and souls of our children for staying at home since early March. If we even dare to speak up, it is quickly refuted with “well, I’m not at risk”, “masks are a political issue”, or “our freedom is more important.” And so, the pandemic rages on. When I play back the various judgments, accusations, and assertions made about my own family for not attending Sunday Mass or any other parish event over the past months, none of them help me to feel safe enough to walk into a church. We are now part of a segregated community not very different from the one I described in Costa Rica. Sherry Weddell presents a comprehensive review of the reasons why Catholics leave the church in her book Forming Intentional Disciples. In particular, 71% of Catholics who have migrated to a Protestant church say it is because “My spiritual needs were not being met” (pg 16). Even more shocking, however, is that pastors and leaders had many other reasons why their flock was abandoning the Catholic faith, but not this reason actually given by those who have left. “It is all too easy to project our own passionately held theological and ecclesial convictions upon people who are motivated by entirely different questions and concerns,” Weddell asserts. This is the Church not being 'for the poor', but instead judging the poor. In many ways, I can draw similarities between how I feel and the countless victims of sexual abuse who have had their trust in the Catholic Church shaken or completely shattered. In no way is my suffering anywhere close to those who have had their personal dignity stolen from them in such a way. But, this mistrust that I feel about how our shepherds care for the life of my family is real. Even worse, it doesn’t just end at the highest level of leadership - it seeps far deeper into my parish and lay community who have assumed the same attitudes of judgement and apathy for the lives of the excluded people. When this is all over, it may take time before many participate in parish activities, knowing that they refused to sacrifice for a time to save lives. I may not attend another healing ministry night knowing that, in the face of a dangerous pandemic, they would not try to heal our community in the most important and sacrificial way - by limiting its spread. How can I trust that, when this is all over and my family is vaccinated, my fellow parishioners will actually take the vaccine and, if they feel sick at any time in the future, will refrain from community events in the case that my wife’s immune system does not build antibodies? We need a movement of people who know we need each other, who have a sense of responsibility to others and to the world. We need to proclaim that being kind, having faith, and working for the common good are great life goals that need courage and vigor; while glib superficiality and the mockery of ethics have done us no good.” Our family has been very blessed in this time of isolation. We are certainly better off than someone who is confined to a retirement dorm or who has no partner to support them. Our family has actually grown much closer in this time, and yet we do still feel the need to “speak for the voiceless, to defend the defenseless” (USCCB, ibid) for those with no family. So, what can a community, parish, or diocese do to support those who are isolated by this pandemic or any other condition? How do we be a church ‘for the poor’? Find the OutcastPope Francis’ first papal trip was to Lampedusa, the Mediterranean island where refugees fleeing Syria and surrounding regions would claim asylum. His decision to travel here was unexpected for many, even in the Vatican, but it was the starting point for the Pope’s campaign to position our church as one for the outcast - not just during a pandemic, but at any time there are unreached populations at the fringes of our communities. To follow this calling is to circumsize our hearts and be stiff-necked no longer for the Lord “who has no favorites, accepts no bribes, who executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and loves the resident alien, giving them food and clothing.” (Dt 10:17-18) You have to go to the edges of existence if you want to see the world as it is. I’ve always thought that the world looks clearer from the periphery, but in these last seven years as Pope, it has really hit home. You have to make for the margins to find a new future.” (Let us Dream) EncounterYes, missing in-person Mass is spiritually dangerous. Yes, being at home for extended periods of time causes stress and health concerns. But for many, the alternative is much less temporal. We cannot know the reasons or conditions that force people to excluded themselves from our parishes and communities until we stop yelling, judging, and try to listen. Pope Francis calls this a ‘Culture of Encounter’. Whether it is Catholic to Protestant converts or mothers in the abortion debate, we tend to forget or make assumptions about those who are most affected. Listen for the cries of the poor and excluded and you will be brought closer to God. Often, you will find that their concerns and trials are real and can be met with true mercy. What the Lord asks of us today is a culture of service, not a throwaway culture. But we can’t serve others unless we let their reality speak to us. To go there, you have to open your eyes and let the suffering around you touch you, so that you hear the Spirit of God speaking to you from the margins.” (Let us Dream) Enough of ‘Be not afraid’!Many poor, neglected, and invisible populations live in fear, and it is this fear that is often countered by a supernatural faith and grace that allows them to live closer to God than any of us sitting in our churches and prayer groups. When Joseph attempted to return to Judea from Egypt, “he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, (and) he was afraid to go back there,” (Mt 2:22) returning instead to Nazareth, a place foretold by the prophets. The Lord uses even our fears as a grace to teach and direct us where He desires. On the short drive to the hospital, I drive by at least three signs and marquees in front of churches proclaiming some form of ‘Be not afraid’. But, to tell someone about the dangers of fear or not having faith while at the same time doing little to gain trust that you care for their life is not helpful, and honestly, feels hypocritical. When Peter “saw how strong the wind was he became frightened; and, beginning to sink, cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’” But, Jesus didn’t just yell back, ‘Don’t be afraid...keep swimming!’ No, “immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and caught him” (Mt 14:30,31). Maybe, as a church, we should be stretching out our hand more and preaching ‘be not afraid’ less. Be creative The creativity of the Christian needs to show forth in opening up new horizons, opening windows, opening transcendence towards God and towards people, and in creating new ways of being at home.” Thankfully, our family has been able to receive communion in our home because I was previously trained as an extraordinary minister of the Eucharist. But, this is a grace that many who are isolated do not have the luxury of participating in. This is a problem that has been solved in many creative ways across the world, but not with equally effective results simply because every parish has different needs, concerns, and limitations. In addition to encounter and listening to those in need, solutions require a bit of creativity. Maybe this means a drive through Mass; maybe it involves dedicated clergy who themselves stay isolated except to safely minister to the homebound; maybe it even means ‘contactless communion’.
Creativity should also go beyond sacramental needs and include other community events that do not allow participating for the homebound or at-risk population. Is the music ministry feeling underutilized this holiday season? Maybe they could go around caroling safely in people’s front lawns! We should even be creatively thinking of ways in which the homebound or at-risk can still safely serve our communities, giving them back the dignity of serving others. But the most dangerous path that has been taken is that of isolating the at-risk and elderly populations in the name of ‘protecting’ them, while in the meantime encouraging everyone else to continue in their daily life without concern, caution, or care for the isolated. We, as a church need to be a two-fold message of solidarity and creative compassion - we need to be taking the spread of COVID-19 seriously as a major risk to our common good, while at the same time, reaching out and caring for the physical and spiritual needs of those who need to be isolated due to pre-existing health conditions. Our family has been very blessed by ministers (across Christian denominations) who have made a point of not just making in-person community events available to watch online, but creating community among those who cannot meet in person. Unfortunately, these efforts vary highly depending on the region of the country, and more often, the leadership examples of pastors, priests, bishops, and cardinals who go out of their way to create such community. Due to the wonderful gift of technology, our family has enjoyed participation in global online prayer meetings, specialized masses for the homebound in other dioceses, and multi-denominational song and praise sessions dedicated to creating a sense of togetherness even in this tough time. We enjoyed having gifts brought to our front porch and even a front yard carol, thanks to friends and family who felt called to bless us. Our family has also participated by sending card of blessings to hospitals and nursing homes as well as attempting to create our own community media campaigns. This has helped us to feel like we are still a part of a greater community and provided our children with a purpose in serving those who are less fortunate. But, these kinds of ministry are in no way normative across our country, nor do they translate into care for all of the poor and excluded in our communities. We must always be willing to go outside the box of normal limitations in order to reach the poor. In moments of crisis you get both good and bad: people reveal themselves as they are. Some spend themselves in the service of those in need, and some get rich off other people’s need. Some move out to meet others— in new and creative ways, without leaving their houses— while some retreat behind defensive armor. The state of our hearts is exposed.” (Let us Dream) Stop the Culture War!Right now, our society is prevented from fruitful conversations about such things as wearing masks, social distancing, and capacity restrictions because these things are all considered as a part of a larger political war. Catholics in particular perceive this pandemic as an example of some attack on our religious liberty, a “narcissism” that makes us the “chief victim” (ibid), resulting in an inability to separate prudent and logical actions to prevent the spread of this virus from this perceived culture war has blinded many from seeing the suffering innocent and from having consistent views on the dignity and sanctity of life. But, our Faith teaches us to “keep away from worldly desires that wage war against the soul. Maintain good conduct among the Gentiles, so that if they speak of you as evildoers, they may observe your good works and glorify God on the day of visitation.” (1 Pet 2:11-12) Some priests and laypeople have given a bad example, losing the sense of solidarity and fraternity with the rest of their brothers and sisters. They turned into a cultural battle what was in truth an effort to ensure the protection of life.” (Let us Dream) Let us instead follow the example of Saint Francis. “Francis did not wage a war of words aimed at imposing doctrines; he simply spread the love of God. He understood that ‘God is love and those who abide in love abide in God’ ( 1 Jn 4:16).” (Fratelli Tutti, 4) Our church should be a bold counterexample to the binary political culture war, and this means that it is OK to pray a socially distant outdoor rosary for the sanctity and dignity of all life while wearing masks! But most importantly, we need to all step back as a Church and recognize what it means to be ‘for the poor’, and only then can we understand what Pope Francis meant when he said he desired a poor church. It means we have to look outside of ourselves and our freedoms in order to recognize and see the poor that are hidden (now intentionally) from our communities, outside of the walls of the church. We need to be creative and serve in a spirit of generosity and compassion for the outcast and neglected, and only then can we start to see our communities grow in Spirit and fullness. You have to ask: Is this drama just about Covid or is it also about what Covid has uncovered? Is this just a virus pandemic and an economic meltdown, or is it about widening our gaze, the way we take in all these human dramas?” (Let us Dream)
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On a MissionTwo passionate parents and their four children are excited to bring His Word to everyone in need while living a life of Gospel poverty as missionaries. They invite you to join them on a journey to encounter our global neighbors that Jesus commands us to love through works of charity and service. Archives
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