In reading Henri Nouwen’s book ¡Gracias! I was struck by the first two sentences of his January 20th, 1982 entry: “Can we truly live with the poor? Although I live with them and share their life to some extent, I am far from poor.” The following is my own journal reflection that came from his.
El 18 de septiembre de 2009
Can I truly live with the poor without being poor? I am far from being poor and never will be able to personally experience the same reality. I do a great disservice to myself and to those I work and interact with if I try to pretend otherwise. I will always have those who can care for me, and resources that are unavailable to others. What I can do is acknowledge the privileges and wealth that I have, that are part of my reality. I can be honest. And I can not let these privileges stop me from loving. I can not let my privileges be excuses for creating distance instead of contact. I will never truly know the daily reality and burden of what it means to be poor. But I can still love. I can enter into relationship with openness and honesty and allow myself to be converted, to be challenged by those whose reality I will never fully understand but whom I can accompany none the less.
Living simply does not make me poor. To choose to live simply is not to pretend to be poor. It is a choice made to free oneself to better be in relationship. Maybe for one person she can better be in relationship with hot water, air conditioning, or electricity. But she should also be aware she has something profound to learn about love from those who have relationships and love without these amenities. Mother Theresa said “the less we have, the more we can give,” and I find this truth in my choice to live among those who have “little” as far tangible goods and services. It also reminds me of Sister Peggy (she taught my Liberation Theology course in El Salvador) who said that when the poor give it is a very different kind of gift because it is from their substance, not their excess. When I offer something, it is always what is extra, but the poor often offer all they have, at their own personal cost and sacrifice. This is the kind of love that Jesus calls us to, in really loving our brothers and sisters as our self.
Living with the poor, surrounded by poverty, does not make me poor. And that’s fine. Poverty is not the goal or mission of life; love is. I am free to love in new and profound ways when I enter into the reality of poverty. I am trying to tear down barriers, one brick at a time, to catch glimpses of my brothers and sisters on the other side. Each act I take to simplify my life can be another brick. Each time I choose the other instead of myself can be a brick. Each time I move out of my comfort zone into the unknown can be a brick. Each time I stretch myself to love, to listen, to really see someone can be another brick. And maybe together, removing one brick at a time, we will one day stand face to face without any barriers and smile at our true self reflected in the other, naked as the day we were born and full of the same joy and curiosity in exploring this new world together. Maybe this is what the kin-dom of God is like.