The Splendor of Poverty

            I was struck by the seeming inconsistency in this Sunday’s readings. In the first reading, the prophet Malachi foretells the coming of the Lord of Hosts to His temple, “Yes, he is coming, says the Lord of Hosts. But who will endure the day of his coming? And who can stand when he appears? For he is like the refiner’s fire, or like the fuller’s lye.” One gets the sense that he’s going to appear in a ‘blaze of glory.”

                This is repeated in the Responsorial Psalm, “Lift up, O gates, your lintels; reach up, you ancient portals, that the king of glory may come in! Who is this king of glory? The Lord, strong and mighty, the Lord, mighty in battle!” I don’t know what this king of glory looks like, but when he gets here, you’ll know it. He’s a king. He’s glorious. He’s powerful, with a strength so intense that we will not be able to stand in his presence.

                Then, we get the gospel.

                Jesus, a baby unable to walk, an infant unable to speak, carried into the temple by his mother and father, who had to offer the sacrifice designated for the poor. You see the rich, well, they had to offer in sacrifice at the birth of the first son a lamb or a young male calf. Since those who were very poor could not afford to purchase a lamb or a young bull, they got to offer the sacrifice of “a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons.” They were poor. Not just a little bit poor. The Holy Family was very poor.

                How does this make sense? Why are we set up with readings that would be more suited to, oh, say, Jesus’s triumphant entry into Jerusalem and the purification of the temple? Those readings would fit great with that event of his life. Unless, there is a splendor in poverty that we cannot see. Maybe there was something there that, without God’s presence in our life, would be invisible to us.

                It was not invisible to Simeon. Here was a man who had spent his life in the temple. Simeon was used to the presence of God. I’ve often asked myself, “How did he know?” Of all the hundreds of children that would have been brought into the temple in a month or a week, of all the thousands of children that were brought into the temple during his lifetime, how did he know that Jesus was the one? I think it was because he saw the splendor of the king, the majesty and glory of the Lord of Hosts that was invisible to everyone else, hidden within the poverty of the Holy Family. Simeon had learned to see beyond nice clothes, large animals, bands of people in an entourage. Simeon learned to recognize the true presence of the Lord of Hosts in the splendor of poverty.

                What a lesson for us today, as we seek after the next biggest house, the next nicest car, the next fanciest gadget, the next prettiest fashion. There is a beauty in poverty that we can only see when we have drawn close to the Lord. Perhaps we should think of the purity of poverty. The prophet Malachi states that the Lord who comes is like the refiner’s fire. He goes on: “He will sit refining and purifying silver, and he will purify the sons of Levi, refining them like gold or like silver that they may offer due sacrifice to the Lord.”

                I think of the words of Jesus, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” That is from Matthew’s gospel. Many people use that little phrase, “in spirit,” as a way of justifying owning many possessions. “Yes, I have all of these things, but I’m not attached to them, so I’m actually living in poverty of spirit.” Ask them to sell their $50,000 car and buy an old, beat up mini-van, and they’ll give you all kinds of reasons why they can’t do that. Not attached to it, huh? Luke doesn’t make any such provision that could be interpreted as an excuse, “Blessed are you who are poor,” Luke’s gospel says. Not poor in spirit, but poor; Jesus in Luke’s gospel wants us to lack possessions, to be poor.

                Perhaps this poverty in which we see the Holy Family is the fire that refines and purifies us. The sacrifice that is acceptable to the Lord is the foregoing of earthly possessions. Perhaps, by letting go of our earthly possessions, our desire for God is purified and strengthened. Perhaps, in ridding ourselves of earthly measures of happiness, we find pure joy, holy peace, happiness beyond our wildest dreams.

That was Jesus’s challenge to the rich young man, “Go, sell what you have and give it to the poor, and come follow me, then you will be perfect.” In that story of the rich, young man, he approaches Jesus asking what he needs to do to be saved. Jesus tells him to follow the commandments. The rich, young man wants more than that. “I’ve done these things since my youth,” he says to Jesus. “What more do I lack?” That question has echoed within me for years. He’s not really asking about what he needs to do to get to heaven. Jesus answered that question. In all his riches, he still feels like he is lacking something. He isn’t happy, and he wants to know what will make him happy. “Poverty,” Jesus says in essence, “that is what you lack; poverty that will allow you the freedom to be with me.” The rich, young man goes away very sad, because he had many possessions.

                He goes away sad, because he had many possessions.

                We are called to be purified in poverty. This is radical. No doubt about it. But the more I hang out with Jesus, the more radical I believe Jesus actually is. Spiritual poverty, I think, doesn’t so much mean that we can afford to own riches, so we do, but “aren’t attached to them.” Spiritual poverty, it seems to me, means that we can afford to own riches, but we deliberately choose not to. We satisfy ourselves with simple things that meet our basic needs, and we give the rest to the poor. Spiritual poverty is a deliberate choice to live as the poor, with the poor, and in service to the poor, because Jesus was poor.

                A practical example of this is the recent event involving our van. Last year in March, we paid more than the van was worth to get it fixed. It’s been acting up the last few weeks, and last week, there was literally a stream of fluid running from underneath it. It was coolant. We hoped for a cheap fix. Nope, the estimate put it at over $650.00. Now we had a choice. Get it fixed and continue driving this beat up, old piece of junk that has a broken automatic door. Or, finance a new vehicle. The fact is, we can afford to finance a $25,000 or $30,000 dollar vehicle. We’ve chosen not to. It’s not because we can’t afford to get a new vehicle. We are making a deliberate choice to live out the gospel Beatitude of Poverty of Spirit, offering up driving a really, REALLY nice car to the Lord, so that our desire for Him may be purified.

                People may ask whether God wants us to have nice things. Doesn’t God, who loves us and wants us to be happy, want us to have things that will make us happy? Sure. But this is what we need to understand: the happiness that God wants for us does not depend on material goods. It’s deeper than that, more eternal than that. God wants to give us everything that is good. He is a loving Father who wants to provide for us everything that we need to be happy. At the same time, he as a loving Father may be asking us to give up those things that will lead us to unhappiness. This is a guarantee: what God wants to provide for you will make you infinitely happier than any material thing you can provide for yourself.

                As in all things, there is a balance. Virtue is found in the middle. This call to radical poverty that we find in the gospel is not meant to create a situation where our needs go unmet. Jesus isn’t telling us that we should go hungry, or that we should drive our children around in an unsafe or unreliable vehicle. Jesus isn’t telling us to live in a house in which we are in danger or that doesn’t meet our needs as a family. Not meeting the needs of my family is as much a violation of Poverty of Spirit as ignoring the needs of the poor. We meet our needs (not wants) first, and use the rest in service to the Lord and His poor.

                I have felt for years, that the Lord was calling my family to live a more radical understanding of this lifestyle. Is it easy? Absolutely not. Does it create discomfort? Absolutely yes. Does it mean that we grieve when we want something big and expensive? Yep, that too. Have we lived out this radical call to true poverty of spirit perfectly? Nope. But those painful moments of living out in a “rubber hits the road” kind of way this Beatitude of Poverty of Spirit remind us that really all we need to be happy is Jesus.

All we need to be happy is Jesus, and we can let everything else go.

                As we do this, we are “purified as gold and silver.” Our hunger for heaven gets deeper. Our joy in Jesus gets more profound. Our happiness gets holier. Unlike the rich, young man, who went away sad because he had many possessions, we will be filled with happiness and joy that can only be seen by those like Simeon, who have learned to see the invisible splendor of God, the splendor that is hidden within poverty.

A Turn in The Road

About 5 years ago, I and a friend had stopped riding with a Christian motorcycle ministry group. We were frustrated. The group met monthly, gathering in the basement of a local church and talking about all the ministry opportunities that were available. We were frustrated that it seemed like all they did was talk. We decided to form our own Christian motorcycle ministry, and designed a back patch to be worn whose centerpiece was the Chi-Rho symbol, an ancient symbol of Christ. The story goes that Constantine on the eve of a battle in which his troops were hopelessly outnumbered saw the Chi-Rho symbol in the sky and heard the words, “In this sign conquer.” He instructed his troops to paint the symbol on their shields. They did so, and won the battle the next day. According to the myth, this led to the conversion of Constantine and the legalization of Christianity.  I went so far as to get a tattoo of the Chi-Rho symbol on my arm, surrounded by the words, “IN HOC SIGNO VINCES” (“In this sign conquer”).

Needless to say, that fledgling attempt at forming my own motorcycle ministry didn’t work out.

Longing for fellowship and friendship with other bikers, I met New Breed Clean and Sober Motorcycle Club. I loved these guys. It was 2009, and in order to be a member, I had to have a full year of no alcohol consumption, so I gave up drinking any alcohol at all, and became a hang around. In 2010, I completed that first year of no alcohol use, and I was voted in as a prospect. In 2011, I received my full patch status. I love my New Breed Brothers.

About six months ago, I was trolling on the internet and found the website for Catholic Cross Bearers Motorcycle Ministry (CCBMM). Their back patch, called “the colors” in the motorcycling world, has as its centerpiece the Chi-Rho symbol. Coincidence number 1.

I read the website, and noticed they didn’t have any presence in Missouri. I briefly toyed with the idea of turning in my New Breed colors and asking to be a member of this Catholic motorcycle group, but I loved the bond of brotherhood I have with New Breed, and I love my New Breed brothers, so I quickly dismissed the idea.

Every-once-in-a-while, the thought would return, but I really wasn’t interested in leaving my brothers. I love my brothers in New Breed. The thought of turning in my New Breed colors and asking to join CCBMM kept getting stronger and stronger, so I stopped looking at the CCBMM Facebook page and put it out of my mind. I even changed my notification settings so that I wouldn’t get notifications when someone from CCBMM posted something. I did not want to leave New Breed and the Brothers I had found there, and I hated that feeling of having a split desire.

The thought would not leave me though. It became the kind of thought that was like a car alarm blaring outside my window. I was able to focus on other things, but I was always aware of it there in the background. Months went by like this, with that thought nagging at me. So a few weeks ago, I decided to take it into prayer.

I prayed pretty hard about it, and the thought just kept returning that this is what God wants me to do. I’ve been telling God that I don’t want to leave my brothers in New Breed. I went to Mass one Saturday morning. The gospel reading for that Saturday was about how some of John the Baptist’s disciples were getting upset that Jesus and his disciples were baptizing, and drawing larger crowds than John. John responded with that well-known response, “He must increase, while I must decrease.” The priest’s homily that day was about how ultimately our will must decrease to allow for the Lord’s work in our lives. We are called to total dedication to the mission of Christ and total submission to his will. Christ must increase, while we must decrease. Coincidence number 2.

I continued to take it to prayer. “Lord, I don’t want to turn in my colors. I love New Breed. But I want to do what you want me to do,” I prayed. One day, while at work, this was on my mind. When I had a brief break at work, I prayed, “Lord, what do you want me to do.” On my Facebook page was a notification that someone had posted from CCBMM. I don’t know why it was there, because, remember, I had turned off the notification settings so that I would stop receiving notifications when anyone from CCBMM posted something. I didn’t want to see what they were posting because I didn’t want to confront that feeling that God was probably asking me to give up New Breed. The notification was someone reposting the daily quote from Pope Francis, which was, “Put on Christ!” The quote went on, but repeated the words, “Put on Christ!” several times. Coincidence number 3.

I continued to pray, asking the Lord for guidance. The mission of Catholic Cross Bearers Motorcycle Ministry is “to bring the love of Jesus to the streets and those imprisoned.” On The Feast of the Baptism of the Lord, the priest’s homily was on the universal call to holiness. He talked about our baptismal call to share in the work of Christ and the challenge to be totally dedicated to his mission on earth. He made special emphasis on the idea of the baptismal garment and being clothed in Christ, covered by Him. What’s more, the first reading from the prophet Isaiah said, “I (the Lord) formed you, and set you as a covenant of the people, a light for the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to bring out prisoners from confinement, and from the dungeon, those who live in darkness.” Those words stood out in 3-D to me, and the words of the CCBMM mission were echoing in my head. Coincidence number 4.

I tried to explain to God that I was the chaplain of New Breed, which is a terrific ministry opportunity. I was happy being his servant in New Breed. “Why,” I asked God, “would You be asking me to give up being Your servant to my brothers? I am happy,” I said, “and able to bring Your presence to these guys.” During my Holy Hour each Tuesday morning, I pray over the Sunday scriptures. The scriptures for that upcoming Sunday were all about being a witness to Christ and his presence in the world. I was praying over them in the adoration chapel and the words from Isaiah in the first reading yelled at me, “It is too little, says the Lord, for you to be my servant.” Instead, Isaiah goes on, we are called in His Church to be a light to the nations. I am not called to be comfortable being his servant in my little surroundings, staying safely within my comfort zone. No, God wants me to reach out to those who don’t know Him, not just be comfortable with a bunch of guys who make it their purpose in recovery to submit themselves to His will. Coincidence number 5.

There in the early Tuesday morning quiet of my “prayer closet” in front of the Blessed Sacrament, I asked, exasperated, “God, are you REALLY calling me to do this?”

That same Tuesday evening, I was driving to the Pregnancy Help Center Board meeting. Who should pull up next to me at a stop light but Fr. Joe Corel, Vocation Director of the Diocese of Jefferson City. On the driver side door of his car was a magnetic sign that said, “God May Be Calling You.” Crap. Coincidence number 6.

I said, “Ok God, I want to be your servant and a servant of the Church. If this is truly what you want, I will do it. I don’t want to leave New Breed MC. I love those guys. So if you want me to be your servant by joining CCBMM, I will. It’s just hard for me.”

On Wednesday, the very next day, I attended the funeral of Joe Viet, long time parishioner and living saint of St. Andrew Parish in Holts Summit. Mnsgr. Higley’s homily was a beautiful reflection on the challenge that Joe presented to us in his life. He was a true servant of the Church, dedicating himself to loving his neighbor, everyone he met. He would go out of his way and consistently make personal sacrifices because he loved Jesus so much. If he wasn’t found in prayer, he was found in service, and this is what made him such a good leader within the community. Joe’s life challenges us all, Mnsgr. Higley preached, to be true servants of the Church in everything that we do, and in every situation in which we find ourselves. Joe’s life challenges us to put all that we have and all that we are to the service of Christ and His Holy Church. Coincidence number 7.

I started praying about the mission of the Catholic Cross Bearers, to take the message of Jesus to the streets and those imprisoned. I thought, God, I wouldn’t even know where to begin. After praying this, I went to Mass on Saturday morning, and saw an old friend that I hadn’t seen in years. He told me that he was in town because of a REC weekend. REC stands for Residents Encounter Christ, and is a prison ministry. I laughed out loud. Literally. I started laughing. My friend looked at me funny. I hugged him and told him I would be in touch. Coincidence number 8.

At one point during all of this, I called the president of my New Breed charter to talk to him about what I was thinking. He said 2 things. First, he wanted me to do what I think would make me happy. Second, he said, being the only member of CCBMM in Missouri, and trying to get a chapter started is incredibly hard, and he was concerned I would be disappointed if it failed. I took these things to prayer. That Sunday, again, the responsorial psalm proclaimed, “…to do Your will, o God, is my delight…” The interesting thing is, the version at mass that was used paraphrased these words, “Doing that (God’s will) is what has made me happy.” Then Mnsgr. Higley’s homily focused on a verse of the first reading that wasn’t included in the normal scriptures. The reading for that Sunday was about how we are to proclaim God to the nations, and be his witness to the world. The verse that was missing was this, “Though I thought I had toiled in vain, for nothing and for naught spent my strength, Yet my right is with the LORD, my recompense is with my God.” Mnsgr. Higley talked about how Isaiah, in this verse, felt like a complete failure. He focused on how, while Isaiah felt this way, Isaiah continued to be faithful to the mission he was given. Mnsgr. Higley talked about that famous quote from Mother Therese, “God doesn’t ask us to be successful. He asks us to be faithful.” Coincidence number 9.

A priest once said to me, “There are no coincidences. Only God-incidences.”

I believe that. The way the readings were aligned and the words that spoke to me from them, the events, like the similarity of the ministry patches, the Facebook notification I shouldn’t have gotten, Fr. Joe Corel with his car sign and saint Joe Viet’s funeral and Mnsgr. Higley’s beautiful reflection on that Man of the Church, and then him preaching on a verse of the reading that wasn't even supposed to be included, and it speaking directly to my questions...God is speaking to me His will. There are no coincidences, only God-incidences.

I knew what I had to do, but was loathe to do it, and delayed as much as I could. Then came the readings for the next Sunday. Jesus called Peter, Andrew, James and John, and “immediately they left their boat and their father and followed him.” No more excuses, God said to me. So Sunday morning I took my colors to the president of my charter, and am no longer a member of New Breed Clean and Sober Motorcycle Club.

Turning in my New Breed colors is incredibly hard. I really love those guys. New Breed Motorcycle Club is a Clean and Sober club. The majority of the guys in the Club are working some sort of program for recovery. A fundamental principle of recovery is that our will has run riot, and so in order to be truly happy and healthy, we must submit our will to The Will of our Higher Power, as we understand it. The 3^rd Step Prayer from the Big Book of AA goes like this:

God, I offer myself to Thee-
To build with me
and to do with me as Thou wilt.
Relieve me of the bondage of self,
that I may better do Thy will.
Take away my difficulties,
that victory over them may bear witness
to those I would help of Thy Power,
Thy Love, and Thy Way of life.
May I do Thy will always!

It’s kind of ironic really, that to be true to one of the fundamental principles of recovery, principles upon which New Breed Clean and Sober MC are founded, I had to turn in my NBMC colors. I hope that my club brothers can understand this. I want to continue to support my New Breed brothers in everything they do. I love them. Nothing is going to change that. I want to be able still to ride with them when I can, attend and support their activities when I can, just be with them when I can, even if it’s just hanging out for coffee on a Saturday morning. I hope they will still accept me as a friend and supporter of the Club.

The bottom line is I believe with conviction that God is calling me to take up the ministry of CCBMM, to help it become a presence in Missouri.

So here I go on an adventure that I hope is led by the Lord. What attracts me most to riding my motorcycle is the sense of adventure on the open road, where anything could happen. People will say that the journey only makes sense if there is a destination. Those people aren’t real bikers. The destination for me is the road itself. Just to be out there, riding, and seeing what is next in store. I know that if I follow the map laid out for me by the Great Map Maker, I will eventually arrive where I am supposed to be. In faith, I don’t have to see the destination. In faith, all I have to do is follow the road that is before me, one turn at a time. Being a biker is a nearly perfect analogy for this pilgrimage we call life. That’s why I so love this prayer, written by Thomas Merton:

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going.

I do not see the road ahead of me.

I cannot know for certain where it will end.

Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that

I think I am following Your will does not necessarily mean that I am

actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please You

does in fact please You.

And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.

I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.

And I know that if do this You will lead me by the right road

though I may know nothing about it.

Therefore I will trust You always though I may seem to be lost

And in the shadow of death.

I will not fear, for You are ever with me,

and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

All In...

If you've ever played Poker or watched it on TV, there comes a time when the poker player has managed his chips and the cards he was dealt as well as he could, but needs to go "All In." He pushes everything he has into the middle of the table and waits to see how the cards fall. There is no second guessing how much to bet. There is no sense that he can sit back and take it easy. It's one of the few times in the game when you will see a poker player show emotion. He's "All In," not just with his chips and cards, but his heart and soul, too.

That's what Jesus's invitation to Peter, Andrew, James and John is in this weekend's readings. He's calling them to be "All In." They do it. There's all kinds of debate about whether they knew Jesus before the moment of this calling, or if this was their first encounter. Frankly, that doesn't matter to me. Jesus called them, and they left EVERYTHING, their livelihoods, their families, EVERYTHING. They went "All In."

Reminds me of what Jesus said, "No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the Kingdom of God." (Luke 9: 62).

Jesus looks at us, square in the eyes this week, and asks us if we are "All In."

There is nothing worse than doing anything with a divided heart. Indecision, stress, and worry beseige us. Sometimes, when we "look to what was left behind," we experience guilt or shame. Jesus doesn't care what was left behind us. He is calling us to be "All In" kinds of people. That means ALL in. Even the stuff of which we might be ashamed or feel guilty, the mistakes and the sins of our past. We bring it all.

Peter, Andrew, James and John were fishermen. This was a rough job. It was hard work, and these four guys were salt of the earth kind of people. I imagine them out there cussing, drinking, laughing, telling crude jokes. Jesus didn't care. He called them to be all in. They brought all that with them.

Peter, Andrew, James and John were fishermen. This is what they did for their livelihood. It was what they were good at. It's what they knew, and probably all they knew, as the four of them were probably uneducated and illiterate. Jesus didn't care. He called them to be all in. They brought that with them, too. As a matter of fact, that was one of the conditions for following him. "Come with me," Jesus says, "and I will make you fishers of men." He didn't call them to leave it all behind, but to bring it with them so that he could use it. He told them to put it all in, and then let Him deal the cards.

Believe me, when Jesus is dealing your cards, they are stacked in your favor.

Bring what you know, what you do, who you are, Jesus says to us. When we put it all in, He can take all of those things, what we know, what we do, and who we are, and make them useful to His purpose. Transforming things is something at which Jesus excels. Whether it's water from a well, a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish, bread and wine, or our lives, Jesus can change it into something extraordinary. But we have to go all in.

One of my favorite prayers is the morning offering, because it captures that idea of going all in:

Oh Jesus, through the Immaculate Heart of Mary,

I offer you my prayers, works, joys and sufferings

of this day for all intentions of Your Sacred Heart

in union with the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass

throughout the world,

in reparation for my sins,

for the intentions of all our associates,

and in particular for the intentions

of our Holy Father for this month.

 

Can you go all in for Jesus? He is calling you to give Him everything, your work, your family life, your past, present and future...EVERYTHING.

 

I will guarantee that if you make this bet, and let Jesus deal the cards, you won't lose. Do you dare to go all in?