European Editorial: Poverty and the Christian perspective
Why Poverty? is a question that European radio, TV and web broadcasters
have been asking as part of a continent wide debate on what defines poverty and what
can be done to improve the lives of the poor – in rich countries as well as in the
least developed nations. In the seventh editorial of this series, Philippa Hitchen
reflects on the Church’s specific contribution to the discussion:
Listen:
“It’s all
about right relationships,” a wise Franciscan friar said to me once, many years ago.
“About understanding our place in the ecosystem of life. About realising our dependency,
not only on God, but on each other and on all of His creation.” Over the past two
decades our understanding of poverty has moved away from the ‘less than $1 a day’
concept, coined by the World Bank in 1990 to describe those facing a daily struggle
for survival. Today, as the Millennium Development Goals remind us, it’s less about
dollars and cents in people’s pockets and more about access to education and health
care, about providing clean water and protecting the environment, about fighting ignorance,
promoting gender equality and increasing participation in the political process. As
we look beyond the 2015 deadline for halving the number of people living in poverty,
it’s also increasingly about access to on-line information: according to Cardinal
Turkson, president of the Pontifical Justice and Peace Council, the most urgent need
that people in Congo talk about today is poor communication networks. A lack of all
these things keeps people locked in a downward spiral of deprivation, humiliation
and lack of control over their lives.
While it took decades for secular institutions
and financial organisations to wake up to the errors of the ‘top down’, ‘one size
fits all’ approach to international development, the Church has long been spearheading
a social doctrine based on empowerment, inter-connectedness and a holistic vision
of human dignity for all. What else do countless men and women religious do in the
remotest parts of the globe through education, sanitation, healthcare or income generation
programmes that help people help themselves, rather than relying on handouts from
the West? While these frontline sisters and friars have been putting God’s love
into action in a myriad of practical ways, popes and other Church leaders of the past
century have developed the principles of social justice in their contemporary contexts:
think of British Cardinal Henry Manning’s mediation in the London dock strike of 1889,
followed by Leo XIII’s encyclical Rerum Novarum two years later, the Justice
and Peace Council’s 1986 document on international debt, prefiguring the Drop the
Debt campaign, or Pope Benedict’s recent encyclical Caritas in Veritate challenging
governments, banks and big companies about the root causes of poverty today.
But
why does this rich and articulated teaching on human dignity and global solidarity
still struggle to make its voice heard? Why is the social doctrine of the Church still
described as its best kept (or wilfully neglected) secret? Why was Irish rocker Bono
back in the Vatican recently urging Cardinal Turkson to do more to raise the Church’s
profile in the anti poverty campaign? Partly because, as people of faith, we prefer
to quietly get on with the job and leave the high profile rhetoric to politicans and
pop stars. Because we tend to be wary of working alongside anyone who might challenge
our way of doings things. Because there are those who don’t see justice and
peace as an integral part of the Catholic faith – why else would social doctrine courses
still be optional in some seminaries? And because, if we take the Gospel message seriously,
it means radically challenging our own lives and relationships, not just with
family and friends, but with those on other side of the world too. It means finding
better ways of investing our time, energy and money, changing our relationships
in business, in politics, in economic partnerships.
Are we able this Advent
season, to follow the model of St Francis and put self-interest or self righteousness
aside? To give – not just to church collections or charity donations – but to give
ourselves in service to others, as God came into the world to give Himself for us?
That’s a gift that really might make a difference this Christmas.