On one recent excursion with another friar, we passed a homeless man at one of the largest intersections here in Albuquerque. Because the traffic was not thick, he had an opportunity to cross two empty lanes at the stoplight to receive a donation from the car in front of us. The friar next to me asked almost rhetorically, “I wonder where he will sleep tonight?” This question was answered on our return to the friary that same evening. Heading south on a throughway, just north of downtown, lined up for two city blocks were ‘shadows of makeshift tents’ dimly lit by the streetlights. One pile of belongings was next to an occupied sleeping bag. The activity of this section of the city was minimal with only one or two street-walkers as it was past nightfall, and it was very cold.
The homeless represent powerlessness. They did not choose their situations. Psychological and material chains prevent many of these women and men from a life of truer freedom. There is another form of poverty, however, and this form of poverty has none of the negative connotations normally associated with the ‘curse of society’ that manifests itself on the corners of busy intersections or on a downtown street at night. St. Francis of Assisi chose to identify with the poor ones, the ‘accursed ones’ of his society. The decision for Francis to deliberately divest himself of things and intentionally maintain that status can only be understood from a radical Christian ideological principle – that of imitating the example of Christ Crucified who became poor for our sakes, and by literally following the counsel of Jesus when he told his followers to take nothing with them on the journey they were commissioned to make in His name.
The counsel of the Vow of Poverty that Francis took to himself, while in hindsight can be understood to have been inspired, is plainly not a universal calling for everyone or every Christian. Rather, it is a path. It is a singular way.It is a means to an end – the growth of the one embracing such a lifestyle, and more specifically, a means to being an instrument of peace. Briefly, as a vocational calling, an attempt will be made to explicate some of the wisdom behind this radical and rather extreme interpretation of following Jesus, especially as it relates to reconciliation and peacemaking.
What do the homeless do by reason of their circumstances in life that Franciscans do by reason of their Christian calling? They beg. The homeless beg for the dire needs of the body; the Franciscans beg for the needs of the body and soul. The homeless beg for mercy's sake while the Franciscans beg for charity's sake. The homeless are driven into a needy state, while the Franciscans choose this state to imitate Christ Crucified and to divest of the material goods and positions of power that become seeds of controversy and greed.
Francis justified begging for his fellow friars by reason of them embracing a state in life that more closely resembled Jesus’ example and Jesus’ instructions. The Franciscan at the door is asking for food in exchange for the opportunity for the hearer to become a charitable giver. The love and peace of God descend upon those who respond to the invitation to give - both through justice and through charity. Justice and charity are exercised in giving to the homeless; and charity and justice are exercised in giving to those who have become poor in the act of imitating Christ.
And what is the beauty in wisdom of this dynamic as it relates to unification and peacemaking? From a state of need, whether through circumstances imposed from the outside or from a radical interpretation of following Jesus, there are no enemies and dualism is eradicated. The layers of our identity for the giver and receiver are peeled back to reveal fragile humans that fundamentally depend upon our sister and brother to make life work.
This is important as it relates to unity, reconciliation, and peace. For, from whom do the homeless hope to find mercy? From whom do Franciscans hope to find charity? They are one in the same. There is no discrimination of others for the homeless person who is seeking mercy; and there is no discrimination of others for the Franciscan who seeks to extend the fundamental request for mercy to an invitation that also includes charity. Does gender of the giver matter to the homeless from whom she or he receives? Does sexual orientation of the generous matter to the homeless from whom she or he receives? What about political identity? What about religious persuasion? No. The mission of the homeless is a just daily search for the means to avoid death. And the supplication of the Franciscan is a just and charitable inquiry to provide an opportunity for all to become more like God the Creator who gives to all, provides for all, and sustains all.
Amidst the political and ideological divisions of our time, amidst the outer layers of our identities that cling to positions of power and impositions upon others, amidst the competitive greed to satiate an insatiable appetite for security and pleasure, it would do well for us to ponder the fragile and needy aspects of our human condition that will invariably and inevitably humble us and place us in a position of need. How many times in the past have we experienced the humiliation of having to require cooperation from an enemy? When we thought of ourselves as so strong, we suddenly found ourselves so weak? Perhaps in this way, we can better understand the words of Scripture that tell us in the person of St. Paul, "It is when I am weak that I am strong." For it is when we stand in our fundamental weakness of need and need of each other that we find the strength to include another in a relationship of unity, reciprocity and love.