Pope Francis has called us to be a Church of and for the Poor. I am happy to report that we are indeed a Church of the poor, if not always for the poor. I write from a French motorway, where we are driving from Our Lady of La Salette in the Alps to Our Lady of Lourdes in the Pyrenees. In between these two poor mountain villages are the rich beach communities of the “Cote d’Azure,” the Orange County of France, the Riviera, where wealthy Parisians have gorgeous second homes above vistas of sparkling blue waters. We are crossing a kind of spiritual desert bereft of pilgrimage shrines, where Our Lady has never come. Or perhaps she has come, only to find that the wealthy have no time for her. It’s not that the well-off don’t want the Blessed Mother (everybody wants their mother). It’s just that the wealthy are so busy managing their wealth that they just don’t have time for her. It is simply a sad fact the Church is dying in the wealthy countries (Europe, North America, Australia, etc). It is among poorer peoples (Southeast Asia, the Carribean, and especially in Africa) that the Church is flourishing. We who are wealthy should take the Lord’s words very seriously: “how hard it is for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God.” It is not impossible for a self-sufficient man to surrender his will to God, but it is very difficult. Whereas the poor man must suffer daily humiliation of poverty, the rich man who would serve God must suffer the daily negation of his will. He must himself create his own spiritual poverty—it will not be given him as it will for the poor man.
That we are a Church of the poor was dramatically evident to me in Paris, where we stayed two days at the convent beside the great basilica of Sacre Coeur. The Holy Eucharist has been exposed for adoration there continuously since 1885. It is the one place in Paris where the poor in spirit can find comfort at any time of the day or night. I went in by day and by night to do my prayers, and whom did I see inside this church? I saw lots of people with dark skin. I saw the city’s serving class, hotel workers, the street cleaners, the waiters and security guards and taxi drivers of the city, that whole Mass of forgotten and invisible immigrant class. Some white people came too, some with expensive hair and chic dress, some with briefcases and high-quality shoes. But we were a minority. We are a church of the poor, already. At least it is they who fill our parishes and shrines, they who still send their children to catechism classes and make their confessions to a priest.
Whether we are a Church for the poor is another question. Do we listen to their requests for simple devotions and access to the sacraments? Do we keep our church doors open to them, to whom so many other doors are closed? It is not the poor who are demanding the Church change her teachings on marriage and abortion and suicide. Is our Church listening to the poor, or is it being driven by the demands of the wealthy? A Church full of money will die, but life and joy are found in a Church of and for the poor.
That we are a Church of the poor was dramatically evident to me in Paris, where we stayed two days at the convent beside the great basilica of Sacre Coeur. The Holy Eucharist has been exposed for adoration there continuously since 1885. It is the one place in Paris where the poor in spirit can find comfort at any time of the day or night. I went in by day and by night to do my prayers, and whom did I see inside this church? I saw lots of people with dark skin. I saw the city’s serving class, hotel workers, the street cleaners, the waiters and security guards and taxi drivers of the city, that whole Mass of forgotten and invisible immigrant class. Some white people came too, some with expensive hair and chic dress, some with briefcases and high-quality shoes. But we were a minority. We are a church of the poor, already. At least it is they who fill our parishes and shrines, they who still send their children to catechism classes and make their confessions to a priest.
Whether we are a Church for the poor is another question. Do we listen to their requests for simple devotions and access to the sacraments? Do we keep our church doors open to them, to whom so many other doors are closed? It is not the poor who are demanding the Church change her teachings on marriage and abortion and suicide. Is our Church listening to the poor, or is it being driven by the demands of the wealthy? A Church full of money will die, but life and joy are found in a Church of and for the poor.
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