Rich By His Poverty

One of the greatest existent examples of Norman architecture, the cathedral in Monreale, Sicily was begun in 1174 by William II of Sicily. In 1182 the church, dedicated to the Nativity of the Virgin Mary, was complete. The stunning mosaics were added one hundred years later.


For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ: though he was rich, he became poor for your sake, so that you might become rich by his poverty …. For if that desire is present, the gift will be acceptable according to what one may have, not according to what one does not. (2 Cor. 8:9, 12)

St. Paul is raising money to aid the parish in Jerusalem because there is a famine there, adding to the political troubles facing the area which would soon boil over into open revolt against Rome and cause the Romans to tear down the Temple. He’s saying that the Corinthians will get “credit” from God based on what they want to give, even if their actual financial situation does not allow them to be as generous as they would like to be.

It’s always tricky to talk about God giving “credit” to humans. But we understand that impulse because we honor the intention if the person is unable to follow through, through no fault of their own. It’s a different situation if the person promises what they know they cannot deliver, raising hopes that can never be achieved.

God acknowledges–gives “credit”–our faith, our hopes and trust in him, and in our brothers and sisters. So this passage of 2 Corinthians is about more than fundraising. St. Paul is also talking about how we become rich through Christ’s poverty even if we don’t always follow through on being poor in spirit, forgiving as we have been forgiven, sharing our resources with those who have less–less time, less cash, less emotional bandwidth to bear whatever their current situation is. If we WANT to be as forgiving and as poor in spirit, etc. that’s at least a start. It’s something. Even if we don’t always live up to our intentions. But as the famous Easter sermon says,

… the Master is gracious and receives the last, even as the first; he gives rest to him that comes at the eleventh hour, just as to him who has labored from the first. He has mercy upon the last and cares for the first; to the one he gives, and to the other he is gracious. He both honors the work and praises the intention.

Paschal Homily, attributed to St. John Chrysostom

Christ takes off all his clothes in order to wear a towel and wash our feet. He hangs naked on the Cross. Holy Week makes us rich. The point of wealth is to share it. How can we share some of what we are given during Holy Week? Even if we can’t do everything we want to make those riches accessible to ourselves or others, we can at least do something. We can do a little bit more than we did last year. We can be present. We can at least begin to want to intend to receive those riches and then share them with someone else.

What human being could know all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge hidden in Christ and concealed under the poverty of his humanity? … When he assumed our mortality and overcame death, he manifested himself in poverty but he promised riches–though they might be deferred; he did not lose them as if they were taken away from him. How great is the multitude of his sweetness which he hides from those who fear him but which he reveals to those who hope in him!

St. Augustine of Hippo, On the Nativity 194.3

One Goes Hungry While Another Gets Drunk

The cathedral in Monreale, Sicily has many beautiful mosaics of Bible episodes, including this depiction of Noah growing grapes after the flood and getting drunk (Genesis 9:24-25). This was evidently the first time in human history that anyone had gotten drunk and passed out. Noah’s sons are shown covering him with a cloak as he is asleep; his pose is very similar to that as Adam when God put him to sleep and then took a rib to fashion Eve.

When, however, you come together in the same place it is not to eat the supper of the Lord. For in eating each one by preference takes his or her own meal; and one goes hungry while another gets drunk. Don’t you have houses for eating and drinking? Do you despise the church of God and dishonor those who have not? What shall I tell you? Shall I commend you? (1 Cor. 11:20-22)

St. Paul tells the Corinthians several times, “I do not commend you.” There were several practices that the parish was evidently proud of–or at least, practices that several prominent people in the parish were proud of. St. Paul, however, is not proud of these practices and tells the Corinthians exactly what he thinks.

We know that early Christians met for several sorts of community meals. Some were called agapes, or “love feasts,” and were fellowship dinners that began with prayers. People brought food to share with others. People generally brought enough that there would be enough to share with the poor after the dinner or the next day.

We also know that the Eucharist was celebrated in the context of a festive community meal. The celebration began with the sharing of the Holy Bread, the Body of Christ. The meal followed, during which there might be reading and preaching. The “cup of blessing,” the Blood of Christ, was shared at the conclusion. Although a wealthy church member might host the meal sometimes, these meals were also a “potluck” and people brought food to eat themselves and to share. (We know this from early Christian writings like the Didache and the Apostolic Tradition of St. Hippolytus.)

We are not sure whether St. Paul is criticizing the behavior at either an agape or at the celebration of the Eucharist, although the reference to “the supper of the Lord” suggests that it was probably the Eucharist that he was talking about.

The parish met in the home of a community member. Most Greek and Roman homes were built around a central courtyard; the rooms opened onto the courtyard and guests might circulate between the rooms that were open. Most of the Christians in Corinth were not wealthy so their homes would not be large. Even the homes of wealthy parishioners might not have a single room that was large enough for the whole parish to gather in at one time.

At these parish meals–either agape or Eucharist–the people were probably not all in the same room. The wealthier members were evidently in a grander room while the poorer members were in smaller rooms off to the side. Because they were not in the same room, it was easy for the richer people to eat and drink among themselves–even gorging themselves and getting drunk–and let the poorer members have less to eat and drink.

Even though they had “come together in the same place,” i.e. one house, they were not all in one room. In one room, people were going hungry. In another room, people were getting drunk. St. Paul saw nothing commendable in this. Such behavior despises the Church and dishonors the members gathered in fellowship, in communion. St. Clement of Alexandria wrote,

If a person is wealthy and eats without restraint or is insatiable, he disgraces himself in a special way and does wrong on two accounts. First, he adds to the burden of those who do not have, and second, he lays his own intemperance bare in front of those who do have.

St. Clement of Alexandria, in “Christ the Educator,” 2.13

There is so much other background to what St. Paul is talking about in this passage, we will continue with it next week.

Unpaid Wages Cry to Heaven

Cain kills Abel in the 12th-13th century Byzantine style mosaics of the cathedral in Monreale (Sicily).

Come now, you rich, weep and wail over your impending miseries. Your wealth has rotted away, your clothes have become moth-eaten, your gold and silver have corroded, and that corrosion will be a testimony against you; it will devour your flesh like fire. Behold, the wages you withheld from the workers who harvested your fields are crying aloud and the cries of the harvesters have reached the ears of the Lord of hosts. (James 5:1-4)

Do these words sound familiar? So much early Christian preaching, so many of the Church Fathers, say the same thing in a variety of ways: the money and possessions of the rich have been stolen from the poor and should be returned to their rightful owners. The unpaid wages owed the workers cries to heaven as the blood of Abel cried out to God, demanding justice against his brother-killer Cain. By not paying their workers, the rich do as great an injustice to them as Cain perpetrated against his brother. Economic injustice is as great a crime as murder.

The stolen wealth of the rich will rot away and testify against them on Judgement Day, the epistle tells us. The fine clothes the rich wrap around themselves are already rotten shrouds falling away from the walking corpses of the rich.

Christian care for the poor was fundamental to the life of a Christian community. Julian the Apostate, the emperor who tried to revive pagan worship after the legalization of Christianity, famously complained, “… the impious Galileans [Christians] support not only their own poor but ours as well; all men see that our people [pagans] lack aid from us.” Christians cared for everyone, whatever their beliefs. Anyone in need was one of the least of Christ’s brethren and deserved the care of Christ’s Body, the Church.

Too many modern people do not realize how rich they are compared to the rest of the world. Too many modern people do not appreciate what they have stolen from the poor who are both next door and on the other side of the earth. I’m afraid that many people would repeat Julian’s complaint that the Christians put everyone else to shame in terms of caring for the poor. On Judgement Day, that will probably be the greatest indictment against contemporary Christians.

Read more about the blood of Abel crying out to heaven here. Read Takanori Inoue’s work on The Early Church’s Approach to the Poor in Society and Its Significance to the Church’s Social Engagement Today online here.