Does
the Pope Love the Rich?
By
Joseph E. Mulligan, S.J.
By
Joseph E. Mulligan, S.J.
While rejoicing over Pope Francis’
clear and constant emphasis on the Church’s “preferential option for the poor,”
presented movingly in his Apostolic Exhortation Joy of the Gospel, some of us who have been trying to make that
option for decades may be a bit troubled when we wonder how this message is
coming across to our friends and relatives who are clearly not “poor” in any
material sense of the word. Whether they consider themselves upper-middle or
upper-upper class, they may be feeling left out of the pope’s circle of
concern, as if he is excluding them from his pastoral outreach.
Jesus’ wealthy contemporaries may
have had similar doubts about his love for them. However, in reality he wanted
their hearts to be filled with love and their lives filled with meaning. But in
order for the rich to experience this gift, they had to empty themselves of
superfluous possessions and wealth, getting free of those inordinate
attachments which enslave us.
Jesus invited people to come to him
with little baggage: “sell all that you own and distribute the money to the
poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me” (Luke 18:22).
Joining his community of disciples, they would share resources equally and
satisfactorily for all.
That he really
loved the rich is stated explicitly in Mark’s version of Jesus’ encounter with
the rich man: “Jesus, looking at him, loved him” (Mark 10:21); he then invited
the rich man to sell his possessions, give the money to the poor, and join
Jesus’ community of sharing.
Similarly, Pope
Francis’ love for the rich moves him to invite them to a more just way of life
which includes a more authentic kind of fulfillment: “The great danger in
today’s world, pervaded as it is by consumerism, is the desolation and anguish
born of a complacent yet covetous heart, the feverish pursuit of frivolous
pleasures, and a blunted conscience. Whenever our interior life becomes caught
up in its own interests and concerns, there is no longer room for others, no
place for the poor. God’s voice is no longer heard, the quiet joy of his love
is no longer felt, and the desire to do good fades. This is a very real danger
for believers too” (Joy of the Gospel, 2).
Francis empathizes
with the inner anguish and pain of the comfortable, a malaise born of a
covetous heart with its concomitant feverish lust for superficial pleasures.
The pope’s
invitation knows no class boundaries: “I invite all Christians, everywhere, at
this very moment, to a renewed personal encounter with Jesus Christ, or at
least an openness to letting him encounter them; I ask all of you to do this
unfailingly each day. No one should think that this invitation is not meant for
him or her….” (3). This personal encounter will be the seed of real conversion
to Jesus, and the renewed Christian will then see how to live in greater
harmony with the gospel way of life.
Thanks to this
encounter, “we are liberated from our narrowness and self-absorption” as we “let
God bring us beyond ourselves in order to attain the fullest truth of our
being” (8). No person is a self-absorbed
island; when we try to live as one, the loneliness hurts, no matter how much
luxury and wealth we have on our island. “If we wish to lead a dignified and
fulfilling life, we have to reach out to others and seek their good” (9).
The pope affirms
clearly that the Church must “go forth to everyone without exception.” He then
adds: “But to whom should she go first? When we read the Gospel we find a clear
indication: not so much our friends and wealthy neighbours, but above all the poor
and the sick, those who are usually despised and overlooked, “those who cannot
repay you” (Luke 14:14).
“There can be no
room for doubt or for explanations which weaken so clear a message.” Quoting
his predecessor, Francis notes that today and always “the poor are the
privileged recipients of the Gospel.” Francis explains: “the fact that it is
freely preached to them is a sign of the kingdom that Jesus came to establish.
We have to state, without mincing words, that there is an inseparable bond
between our faith and the poor. May we never abandon them” (48).
We begin to notice
something different in Francis’ proclamation of the option for the poor. The
current pope, probably because of his personal knowledge of poverty as a Latin
American, speaks powerfully from the heart in solidarity with the poor; service
to the needy and the struggle for justice are gut issues with him. Thus he
gives them a major, privileged place in his teaching. “I want a Church which is
poor and for the poor” (198).
Putting action for
justice at the center of evangelization should not be surprising, since we
follow the Lord who said that he had come “to proclaim good news to the poor,
freedom to captives” (Luke 4: 18) and that he would be found and loved in the
hungry, thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, and the prisoner (Matthew
25: 35-36). Indeed, our eternal life with Christ depends on our “option” for
these needy ones. Francis comments: “God’s word teaches that our brothers and
sisters are the prolongation of the incarnation for each of us: ‘As you did it
to one of these, the least of my brethren, you did it to me’” (Matthew 25:40)
(179).
Where does this
leave most of us, who are comfortable if not filthy rich? Simply, we are called
to join the Church’s commitment to share substantively with the victims of
society and to collaborate fully with social and political struggles to change
the unjust structures of society. “Each individual Christian and every
community is called to be an instrument of God for the liberation and promotion
of the poor, and for enabling them to be fully a part of society” (187).
But how can we love
the suffering members of Christ’s Body if we don’t even know them up
close? If we never look beyond the
expressway canyons or the gates (virtual or real) of our suburbs, we will never
see those 25% of U.S. children living in poverty, or the homeless, or the
elderly abandoned. To know them as real
individuals is the first step to becoming friends with them. We owe it to
ourselves as intelligent beings to take the blinders off and to really
understand reality.
The bishop of Rome
cautions us against falling into the temptation “to be that kind of Christian
who keeps the Lord’s wounds at arm’s length. Yet Jesus wants us to touch human
misery, to touch the suffering flesh of others. He hopes that we will stop
looking for those personal or communal niches which shelter us from the
maelstrom of human misfortune and instead enter into the reality of other
people’s lives and know the power of tenderness. Whenever we do so, our lives
become wonderfully complicated and we experience intensely what it is to be a people,
to be part of a people” (270).
This transformation
is truly for our own good: “We do not live better when we flee, hide, refuse to
share, stop giving and lock ourselves up in own comforts” (272). Rather, “we
achieve fulfilment when we break down walls and our heart is filled with faces
and names!” (274)
In a section
entitled “Some Challenges of Today’s World,” the pope gives a penetrating
analysis of the unjust economic system in which we live. While recognizing some
modern advances, he reminds us “that the majority of our contemporaries are
barely living from day to day, with dire consequences” (52). This is due to
economic structures: “just as the commandment ‘Thou shalt not kill’ sets a
clear limit in order to safeguard the value of human life, today we also have
to say ‘thou shalt not’ to an economy of exclusion and inequality. Such an
economy kills” (53). Here we get a sense of the broad range of “right to life”
issues which are the burning pastoral passion of this pope.
“Human beings are themselves considered
consumer goods to be used and then discarded.” The danger of being used and
then thrown away is a life-and-death matter for millions of poor people; but it
can also cause deep anxiety and self-doubt in professionals and business
managers who are anything less than the owner of the company, especially as
they advance through mid-life.
After denying
“trickle-down theories which assume that economic growth, encouraged by a free
market, will inevitably succeed in bringing about greater justice and
inclusiveness in the world (54),” Francis then focuses on the spiritual
sickness of those who are caught up in this system: “To sustain a lifestyle
which excludes others, or to sustain enthusiasm for that selfish ideal, a
globalization of indifference has developed. Almost without being aware of it,
we end up being incapable of feeling compassion at the outcry of the poor,
weeping for other people’s pain, and feeling a need to help them, as though all
this were someone else’s responsibility and not our own. The culture of
prosperity deadens us; we are thrilled if the market offers us something new to
purchase.”
Think of the
frenzied excitement which accompanies each unveiling of a new phone, pad, or
tablet. “In the meantime all those lives stunted for lack of opportunity seem a
mere spectacle; they fail to move us.” Isn’t this incapacity for empathy, this
childish self-absorption, this impotence to love, a real deprivation of the
human spirit?
Money has “dominion
over ourselves and our societies,” while “the primacy of the human person” is
denied. Our economy lacks “a truly human purpose” (55). The rich who are
dominated by the idolatry of money are in just as much need of liberation as
those who are materially deprived and exploited by that idol.
Those who feel they
are prospering within this system are closing their eyes to the destructive
forces driven by the lust for profit – harmful forces which threaten the rich
and their heirs as well as everyone else. “The thirst for power and possessions
knows no limits. In this system, which tends to devour everything which stands
in the way of increased profits, whatever is fragile, like the environment, is
defenseless before the interests of a deified market, which become the only
rule” (56).
So, does this pope
love the rich? “The Pope loves everyone, rich and poor alike, but he is obliged
in the name of Christ to remind all that the rich must help, respect and
promote the poor. I exhort you to generous solidarity and to the return of
economics and finance to an ethical approach which favours human beings” (58).
Francis offers the
rich true happiness, which comes as a side effect when we break out of the
shell of self-absorption, get into close contact with the vast majority of
humankind, let our hearts be broken by their pain, fall in love with them,
commit ourselves to reach out to them as members of our community, and struggle
to change the unjust structures which cause their suffering. This is the Cross
of true love, and self-transcending love is the Christian secret to a meaningful
and joyful life.
Neither the pope
nor (I think) Jesus expects us to undergo a total transformation overnight. But
as we come to know Jesus in the gospels and hear his call, we are converted
progressively. Francis asks us to take that important first step which shows
our sincerity in wanting to follow Jesus: “Let us try a little harder to take
the first step and to become involved” (24).
Francis urges us to
read the bible, “in the presence of God,” asking: “Lord, what does this text
say to me? What is it about my life that you want to change by this
text?” This good shepherd shows his
pastoral love for all, rich and poor, by acknowledging the chains which bind
all of us and by calmly counseling us to open ourselves gradually to the
prompting of the Spirit: God “always invites us to take a step forward, but
does not demand a full response if we are not yet ready. He simply asks that we
sincerely look at our life and present ourselves honestly before him, and that
we be willing to continue to grow, asking from him what we ourselves cannot as
yet achieve” (153).
A Christian’s
family responsibilities may not permit him/her to take literally Jesus’ counsel
to “sell all that you own and distribute the money to the poor” (Luke 18:22);
but perhaps the family could reduce its unnecessary consumption in order to be
able to share more money or food with those in need (tithing?), or it could
open a spare room to a person who has fallen into homelessness, or members
could devote time to helping at a Catholic Worker or other soup kitchen.
At the same time,
they might consider joining or starting a Peace and Justice Committee in their
parish, or working for the most socially-conscious candidate in the next
election, or visiting prisoners and demanding respect for their human rights.
Once we come to
know real people in any of these situations, we will see that they are human
beings “just like us” and we will be moved to work in solidarity with them
either through service projects or efforts for social change. We will not only
be “willing to continue to grow,” as the pope said, but we will be powerfully
moved to do so.
Francis later returned to
his explanation of how he loves the well-off: “If anyone feels offended by my
words, I would respond that I speak them with affection and with the best of
intentions, quite apart from any personal interest or political ideology. My
words are not those of a foe or an opponent. I am interested only in helping
those who are in thrall to an individualistic, indifferent and self-centred
mentality to be freed from those unworthy chains and to attain a way of living
and thinking which is more humane, noble and fruitful, and which will bring
dignity to their presence on this earth” (208).END
The author, a Jesuit from Detroit, works with Christian Base Communities and with people with disabilities in Nicaragua.
PS In 2004 I jotted down some musings about the new pope who might succeed the ailing John Paul II. These flights of fancy were included in a 2008 article on a Village Voice blog:
Dreaming About the Pope: Reflections on Benedict XVI's Visit to New York
http://blogs.villagevoice.com/runninscared/2008/04/dreaming_of_the.php
