Scottish Catholic Observer

‘AA CHURCH of the poor’ is a currently fashionable notion and like all such modish ideas it requires to be examined dispassionately and in the light of Catholic teaching. The care of the materially impoverished is undoubtedly one of the basic responsibilities of Christians individually and of the Church as a body. Our Lord was prescriptive on this issue, whether in the parable of Dives and Lazarus or in his recommendation to the young man in Matthew 19: ‘If thou wilt be perfect, go sell what thou hast, and give to the poor.’

Yet, at the same time, when one of His Apostles rebuked Mary for anointing Christ with expensive ointment, saying ‘Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred pence, and given to the poor?’ Our Lord replied ‘the poor you have always with you, but me you have not always.’

That apostle was Judas Iscariot. Was Our Lord contradicting Himself? Not at all. It is just that Catholic teaching on poverty is complex and needs to be analysed carefully.

In the first place, we have to demolish the canard, being mischievously promoted by the secular media, that Catholicism needs to ‘become’ a Church of the poor. It already is and always has been. That suggestion is deeply unjust to countless priests, monks, nuns and laymen on whose charitable activities many millions of poor people depend—and not just in developing countries. The Church’s contribution to relief work, alleviation of poverty, hospitals, clinics, schools and other good works is too enormous and far-flung to enumerate accurately. If the Catholic Church disappeared from the face of the Earth tomorrow, the death rate and distress globally would be appalling.

But unlike secular charities, practising philanthropy from naturalist motives, Catholic charity is directed to the service of God, to seeing Christ in every poor person. Poverty is not a virtue in itself, just an economic category. Where virtue and grace enter the equation is in the operation of charity in God’s name. We must maintain and increase this essential work. If charity is left to the cold philanthropy of secularist NGOs and governments— many with deeply immoral agendas on issues such as population control—God will be isolated from those who need Him most.

The ultimate destination of mankind under the dead hand of secularist philanthropy is the cold inhumanity of the suicide clinic.

But poverty presents more challenges to Catholics than simply alleviating the plight of the poor. Because riches, as Our Lord frequently warned, present possible obstacles to salvation, rich Catholics face a particular challenge. If they have a vocation to the religious life, then the dilemma is simplified: they need only follow Our Lord’s injunction in Matthew 19, dispose of their property and take a vow of poverty. But if they have a family and live in the world, their obligation is not to divest themselves of their wealth but to deploy it to best moral advantage.

Our Lord never condemned personal wealth—He had rich friends as well as poor—but He counselled against the pitfalls it can create.

The same applies to the Church as a body. The routine, moronic demands by secularists for the Church’s treasures to be sold of —a direct echo of Judas—mask a desire to see the Church render itself helpless before the world. Would Michelangelo’s Pieta be better in a Russian oligarch’s safe, or a soulless secular museum, than encouraging devotion among visitors to St Peter’s?

Secularists would like to see the Church strip itself of wealth—thus rendering it incapable of helping the poor in God’s name and leaving that task exclusively to secular charities—and of its status, symbols of power, diplomatic service and everything that allows it to confront the world on equal terms. The ‘pomp’ of the Vatican, the Swiss Guards, and so on are necessary to uphold the Church’s secular status, to enable it to influence the world for good.

A vital area in which it is crucial that a misunderstanding of poverty should not be entertained is the Liturgy.

The Mass should be celebrated as splendidly and beautifully as possible, to give glory to God and elevate the minds of congregations. Clergy who think that donning ‘simple’ vestments is an expression of poverty are missing the point: rich chasubles and copes are not about them, but about offering due worship to God.

Routinely abandoning beautiful vestments is akin to taking the same attitude as Judas when he objected to the lavishing of expensive ointment on Our Lord. As is, in my opinion, any attempt that impoverishes the Liturgy.