The Poor


I had a conversation with a good friend of mine some time ago that has haunted me ever since. He recounted the words of a well-known Catholic apologist who was once asked by a Protestant, whether, if he were to die today, he could be assured that he would go to heaven. The Catholic’s answer was a textbook one. He said “yes”, explaining that if he had recently gone to confession and was unaware of any mortal sin, then indeed, he could be assured of his own salvation. At first, this answer seemed fine to me. It wasn’t until my friend really pushed the question, that I realized how short-sighted the answer actually was. In a sense of course, the Catholic apologist was right, but in another sense, something profound was missing.

The Gospel of Matthew contains a teaching of Jesus that I’ve recently begun to see in a whole new light. In Matthew 25:31-46, Jesus recounts a pretty shocking tale:

When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate them from one another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will place the sheep at his right hand, but the goats at the left. Then the King will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, O blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me. Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see thee hungry and feed thee, or thirsty and give thee a drink? And when did we see thee a stranger and welcome thee, or naked and clothe thee? And when did we see thee sick or in prison and visit thee? And the King will answer them, ‘Truly I say to you, as you did it to the least of these, my brethren, you did it to me.’ Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘Depart from me you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to thee?’ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it not to the least of these, you did it not to me.’ And they will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.

Now, here’s the rub. Why was it–ultimately–that the goats were cast off into the eternal fire? Was it because they did not care for a poor, the sick, the naked, and imprisoned? Perhaps. However, was it possible that if those same goats had responded to God by saying, “Lord we didn’t know that was you, please have mercy on us!” that they would have suffered the same fate? I firmly believe that the goats are not cast off merely because of their unjust actions, but because they refused to acknowledge their wrongdoing and ultimately throw themselves on God’s mercy. Instead, they take their cue from Adam and Eve, actually blaming God for hiding himself! The Fundamental question is this: are there sins that we commit daily (possibly even very serious ones) that we have no idea that we’re committing? Frankly, the goats didn’t realize they were sinning; and you and I likely commit far worse sins than these. If this is the case, what have we to fall back on during the day of judgement?

My problem with the Catholic apologist’s answer (as was the problem of a well-known Orthodox priest whose name escapes me at the moment) is that it relies solely on what we do. At the end of the day, we can have hope of salvation if we are willing to throw ourselves on God’s mercy. We do as much as we can, of course. We should confess our sins as often as possible. But if stand before the throne of Almighty on the last day and he happens to call to mind severe sins that we were unaware of when we committed them, what will be our response? Will it be, “Well, I went to confession, how was I supposed to know that was a sin?” Or will we simply cry out “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner”?

carol4.jpgReflecting on 1 Corinthians 11, the thought of St. John Chrysostom, and the life of Blessed Mother Theresa of Calcutta, my friend and mentor Tim Gray recently said to me that “the art of seeing the body of Jesus in the bread should train us in the art of seeing the body of Jesus in the poor.” Profound, no? This reminded me of one of Chrysostom’s homilies; a reflection on Matthew 25:

Would you honor the body of Christ? Do not despise his nakedness; do not honor him here in church clothed in silk vestments and then pass him by unclothed and frozen outside. Remember that he who said, “This is my Body”, and made good his words, also said, “You saw me hungry and gave me no food”, and, “in so far as you did it not to one of these, you did it not to me”. In the first sense the body of Christ does not need clothing but worship from a pure heart. In the second sense it does need clothing and all the care we can give it.We must learn to be discerning Christians and to honor Christ in the way in which he wants to be honored. It is only right that honor given to anyone should take the form most acceptable to the recipient not to the giver. Peter thought he was honoring the Lord when he tried to stop him washing his feet, but this was far from being genuine homage. So give God the honor he asks for, that is give your money generously to the poor. God has no need of golden vessels but of golden hearts.I am not saying you should not give golden altar vessels and so on, but I am insisting that nothing can take the place of almsgiving. The Lord will not refuse to accept the first kind of gift but he prefers the second, and quite naturally, because in the first case only the donor benefits, in the second case the poor gets the benefit. The gift of a chalice may be ostentatious; almsgiving is pure benevolence.What is the use of loading Christ’s table with gold cups while he himself is starving? Feed the hungry and then if you have any money left over, spend it on the altar table. Will you make a cup of gold and without a cup of water? What use is it to adorn the altar with cloth of gold hangings and deny Christ a coat for his back! What would that profit you? Tell me: if you saw someone starving and refused to give him any food but instead spent your money on adorning the altar with gold, would he thank you? Would he not rather be outraged? Or if you saw someone in rags and stiff with cold and then did not give him clothing but set up golden columns in his honor, would he not say that he was being made a fool of and insulted?Consider that Christ is that tramp who comes in need of a night’s lodging. You turn him away and then start laying rugs on the floor, draping the walls, hanging lamps on silver chains on the columns. Meanwhile the tramp is locked up in prison and you never give him a glance. Well again I am not condemning munificence in these matters. Make your house beautiful by all means but also look after the poor, or rather look after the poor first. No one was ever condemned for not adorning his house, but those who neglect the poor were threatened with hellfire for all eternity and a life of torment with devils. Adorn your house if you will, but do not forget your brother in distress. He is a temple of infinitely greater value.