The Riches of Christ Outshine Earthly Gain

Pearl: Though our Lord Jesus was rich, he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich. 2 Corinthians 8:9 

Our scripture readings today, either implicitly or explicitly, lead us to reflect on what it means to be poor.  However, as Christians, it’s important we understand that the word “poor” can have different meanings when placed in the context of the message being presented in Scripture.  Our first reading is a message against greed and focuses on those who take advantage of and cheat others who are poor in a worldly sense.  Those who struggle to have the basic necessities of life.  Our responsorial Psalm continues to focus on these lowly ones; however, in contrast, it is a “Praise of God’s Loving Care of the Poor.”  Our gospel acclamation leads us to examine the meaning of the word “poor” from a spiritual sense, saying, “Though our Lord Jesus was rich, he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich.”  

When we hear a scripture such as this, we might ask ourselves, “How could Jesus, as God, ever be poor, in any sense?”  But when we think about how much he gave up for us, and how much he humbled himself, to come to earth and live as a human.  How he gave himself up to death to save us from our sins and adopt each of us into his family.  When we spend some time in deep thought and prayer over this, the reality of his self-inflicted poverty, his sacrifice for us, and his obedience to God the Father, becomes crystal clear.  It becomes clear that it’s not just a story to make us feel good, not just a historical fact, but is the ultimate act of love that changed the world forever. 

Last Sunday, in our reading from the second chapter of Philippians, we heard another scriptural account of why Jesus became poor in order to make us rich.  It says, “Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped.  Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross.”   

Jesus endured all of this for one overarching reason.  He did it so that we could have a relationship with him.  Not just a bunch of knowledge and facts about who Jesus is and what he teaches, but knowing HIM, personally.   

Otherwise, what’s the point?  If our knowledge of Jesus, who he is and all he has done, just resides in our mind and never settles in our heart, we’re lost.  We’re just playing an academic game.   

I have a question that some of you who are a little older may know the answer to.  In the old Baltimore Catechism, what’s the answer to the question, “Why did God make you?”  The answer is God made me to know Him, to love Him, and to serve Him in this world, and to be happy with Him forever in heaven.  Yes! To know him, not just know about him!  As we all know, really getting to know someone and building a relationship with them takes a lot more time and effort than just hanging out for an hour a week.  So the time we spend with Jesus and the relationship that we develop with him by spending time here in Mass, or in prayer, or listening to him in silence, or reading scripture, must be more important than anything else we do in life, because our eternal life depends on it.   

Of course, the enemy and the busyness and difficulties of life are constantly trying to distract us and encourage us to focus on our here and now needs instead of Jesus.  But Jesus is here in the tabernacle right now!  He’s here every day, and he wants us to come and spend time with him because he wants us to know him.  He wants to give us, his brothers and sisters, rest and peace, no matter our circumstances or what the world tells us.  In life, we all have highs and lows in our relationship with the Lord, and that’s okay; he understands, he knows us better than we know ourselves, but the trend of that relationship should always be upward, toward the Lord, toward heaven. 

In the gospel today, Jesus tells us the Parable of the Dishonest Steward.  A man who squandered his Master’s property and was caught red-handed.  Knowing he would lose his position, he developed a scheme that he hoped would put him in the good graces of those who were in debt to his Master and possibly even repair his relationship with his Master as well.  He went to each of them, asked how much they owed, and wrote them a new promissory note for a much lower value.  This seemed to me to be just another way that he was taking advantage of his Master, so I was really surprised when the Master commended the dishonest steward for acting prudently.  However, after doing a little more research, I found that the Steward only reduced their debt by the amount that would have been his personal profit or commission on the debt.  Thereby, retrieving for his Master the actual amount they owed him. 

To me, the funny thing about this parable is how the Dishonest Steward responded when the reality that he was going to lose his job set in.  He said, “What shall I do?  I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg.”  Everything changes when we get caught, doesn’t it?  Our pride, our arrogance, and our self-importance all fade away when facing the consequences of our sin.  

I had a unique experience that relates to this during diaconate formation.  We did a Street Retreat for 4 days and 3 nights in Austin.  During this retreat, we had to live on the streets of Austin as homeless people.  No money, no change of clothes, nothing but the clothes on our backs and a copy of our ID.  To eat, we either had to find a soup kitchen or beg for money.  This may have been the most humbling experience of my life.  You see, in my pridefulness, I can be very self-reliant.  I don’t like to ask for help, and I would have to be near death and starving before I would beg.  However, we were asked to do this to gain a better understanding and grow in empathy for those who are truly homeless.  So, I stood at the corner of Ben White Blvd and IH 35 in Austin holding a sign that said, “Hungry – Please Help.”  For me, this was physically painful and humiliating.  During that retreat, I got a glimpse of the pain and desperation of the homeless as I lived a few days like them and with them.  On a happier note, I raised enough money for dinner and breakfast the next day.  I also learned that while some of the homeless may suffer from addictions or mental illness, there are also those who, if not for the grace of God, could be me.  One common thing I did learn from talking to a lot of homeless people that weekend is that many were Christians who placed their total trust in God for their daily needs.  I envied that about them and prayed that my trust in God would one day be as strong. 

Later in today’s gospel, Jesus touches on this point of “Trust in God.”  He talks about “Dishonest Wealth” and in his explanation of what it means to be trustworthy, he closed by saying, “No servant can serve two masters. He will either hate one and love the other or be devoted to one and despise the other.  You cannot serve both God and mammon.”  I didn’t know this, but I learned that the term “Dishonest Wealth” in this scripture means “Mammon of Iniquity,” and the word Mammon is translated as “That in which one trusts.”  So the questions I think all of us should spend some time reflecting on this week are: Who do I trust more than anyone or anything else?  Is it Jesus?  If not, why and what should I do to change that?   

 Jesus, I trust in You!   Amen!