Question 4.84
4.84 How would you describe the nature of Cor unum, the dicastery to which you devoted several years of your life, in its fight against all sorts of poverty? Furthermore, why do you speak so often about the close relation between God and the poor?
The Gospel is not a slogan. The same goes for our activity to relieve people’s suffering; it is not a matter of talking or holding forth, but of working humbly and having a deep respect for the poor. For example, I remember being disgusted when I heard the advertising slogan of a Catholic charitable organization, which was almost insulting to the poor: “Let us fight for zero poverty”. . . Not one saint -and God alone knows the tremendous number of saints of charity that the Church has brought forth in two thousand years-ever dared to speak that way about poverty and poor people.
Jesus himself had no pretention of this sort. This slogan respects neither the Gospel nor Christ. Ever since the Old Testament, God has been with the poor; and Sacred Scripture unceasingly acclaims “the poor of Yahweh”. A poor person feels dependent on God; this bond is the foundation of his spirituality. The world has not favored him, but all his hope, his sole light, is in God. The exhortation of Psalm 107 is particularly significant: “Let them thank the Lord for his merciful love, for his wonderful works to the sons of men! For he satisfies him who is thirsty, and the hungry he fills with good things. Some sat in darkness and in gloom, prisoners in affliction and in irons. … But [God] raises up the needy out of affliction, and makes their families like flocks.”
Poverty is a biblical value confirmed by Christ, who emphatically exclaims:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 5:3). Saint Paul also says that “our Lord Jesus Christ,. . . though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich” (2 Cor 8:9).
Yes, poverty is a Christian value. The poor person is someone who knows that, by himself, he cannot live. He needs God and other people in order to be, flourish, and grow. On the contrary, rich people expect nothing of anyone. They can provide for their needs without calling either on their neighbors or on God. In this sense, wealth can lead to great sadness and true human loneliness or to terrible spiritual poverty. If in order to eat and care for himself, a man must turn to someone else, this necessarily results in a great enlargement of his heart. This is why the poor are closest to God and live in great solidarity with one another; they draw from this divine source the ability to be attentive to others.
The Church must not fight against poverty but, rather, wage a battle against destitution, especially material and spiritual destitution. It is critical to make a commitment so that all men might have the minimum they require in order to live. From the earliest centuries in her history, the Church has sought to transform hearts so as to push back the frontiers of destitution. Gaudium et spes invites us to fight against different kinds of destitution, not against poverty: “The spirit of poverty and charity is the glory and witness of the Church of Christ” (88).
There is a fundamental distinction between destitution and poverty. Francis, in his yearly Lenten message in 2014, distinguishes between moral destitution, spiritual destitution, and material destitution. The pope says that spiritual destitution is still the most serious because man is cut off from his natural source, which is God. Thus he writes that “we experience. . . spiritual destitution. . . 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.” In contrast, material destitution leads in fact to a subhuman sort of life that is the source of great suffering. It seems that there are no prospects left.
But we do not have the right to confuse destitution and poverty, because in doing so we would seriously be going against the Gospel. Recall what Christ told us:
“The poor you always have with you, but you do not always have me” (Jn 12:8). Those who want to eradicate poverty make the Son of God a liar. They are mistaken and lying.
The pope wanted to espouse what Saint Francis called “Lady Poverty”. The Poverello of Assisi recommended to his friars that they wear poor habits, live by their own work to support the community, and never claim a salary as something due. He asked them to acquire no material goods but rather to be in every place “pilgrims and strangers in this world, serving the Lord in humility”. Saint Francis of Assisi wanted to be poor because Christ chose poverty. If he calls poverty a royal virtue, it is because it shone brilliantly in the life of Jesus, the King of kings and Lord of lords, and in the life of his mother, Mary of Nazareth. Let us not forget the magnificent, heartfelt cry of our pope when he declared to journalists from all over the world on March 16, 2013, at the dawn of his pontificate: “Oh, how I wish for a Church that is poor and for the poor!”
Similarly, I often think about the vow of poverty taken by religious; does our world still know that the men and women who pronounce it do so in order to be as close as possible to Christ? The Son wanted to be poor so as to show us the best path by which we can return to God. The “zero poverty” program liquidates and physically eliminates the vows of religious and priests. … I know that not all priests necessarily take a vow of absolute poverty. But I firmly believe, in contemplating Christ, that the priesthood is linked to poverty. The priest is a man of God, a man of prayer and humility, a contemplative who seeks to help his brethren to penetrate the mystery of the love of God. To be a priest is to behave as Jesus did, to have nothing, to desire nothing, and to belong to God alone: “Mihi vivere Christus est et mori lucrum” (For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain) (Phil 1:21).
As president of the Pontifical Council Cor unum, I devoted my days to fighting against destitution, particularly on the most distressing fronts in the world. This was a demanding struggle to bring first aid to those who no longer had anything: no food or clothing or medications. In my prayer, I often think of the destitution of loneliness and of those who have no human consideration.
Mankind has never been so rich, yet it reaches astounding heights of moral and spiritual destitution because of the poverty of our interpersonal relationships and the globalization of indifference. In the fight against destitution, there is one fundamental dimension, which consists of restoring to man his vocation as a child of God and his joy in belonging to the family of God. If we do not include the religious aspect, we fall into a kind of philanthropy or secular humanitarian activity that forgets the Gospel. There you have the distinction between Christian charity and the activity of civil organizations; the difference is Christ!
The Son of God loves the poor; others intend to eradicate them. What a lying, unrealistic, almost tyrannical utopia! I always marvel when Gaudium et spes declares: “The spirit of poverty and charity is the glory and witness of the Church of Christ” (GS 88).
We must be precise in our choice of words. The language of the UN and of its agencies, who want to suppress poverty, which they confuse with destitution, is not that of the Church of Christ. The Son of God did not come to speak to the poor in ideological slogans! The Church must banish these slogans from her language. For they have stupefied and destroyed peoples who were trying to remain free in conscience.