St. Vincent de Paul - Feast September 27th - From his letters

Even though the poor are often rough and unrefined, we must not judge them from external appearances nor from the mental gifts they seem to have received.  On the contrary, if you consider the poor in the light of faith, then you will observe that they are taking the place of the Son of God who chose to be poor.  Although in his passion he almost lost the appearance of a man and was considered a fool by the Gentiles and a stumbling block by the Jews, he showed them that his mission was to preach to the poor:  He sent me to preach the good news to the poor.  We also ought to have this same spirit and imitate Christ's actions, that is, we must take care of the poor, console them, help them, support their cause.

Since Christ willed to be poor, he chose for himself disciples who were poor.  He made himself the servant of the poor and shared their poverty.  He went so far as to say that he would consider every deed which either helps or harms the poor as done for or against himself.  Since God surely loves the poor, he also loves those who love the poor.  For when one person holds another dear, he also includes in his affection anyone who loves or serves the one he loves.  That is why we hope that God will love us for the sake of the poor.  So when we visit the poor and needy, we try to be understanding where they are concerned.  We sympathize with them so fully that we can echo Paul's words:  I have become all things to all men.  Therefore, we must try to be stirred by our neighbors' worries and distress.  We must beg God to pour into our hearts and sentiments of pity and compassion and to fill them again and again with these dispositions.

It is our duty to prefer the service of the poor to everything else and to offer such service as quickly as possible.  If a needy person requires medicine or other help during prayer time, do whatever has to be done with peace of mind.  Offer the deed to God as your prayer.  Do not become upset or feel guilty because you interrupted your prayer to serve the poor.  God is not neglected if you leave him for such service.  One of God's works is merely to leave interrupted so that another can be carried out.  So when you leave prayer to serve some poor person, remember that this very service is performed for God.  Charity is certainly greater than any rule.  Moreover, all rules must lead to charity.  Since she is a noble mistress, we must do whatever she commends.  With renewed devotion, then, we must serve the poor, especially outcasts and beggars.  They have been given to us as our masters and patrons. 

The Morality of the Lifeboat

The Lifeboat Scenario.  It's a favorite device in high school ethics discussions or introductory courses in philosophy in undergraduate school.  Let's set the scene:  Imagine you find yourself in a lifeboat adrift at sea, days away from being rescued.  You are with five other people, but there is only enough food and water to keep four people alive in time to be rescued.  Your companions are a priest, a doctor, a prostitute, and an elderly woman.  The instructor then asks the loaded question:  whom do you sacrifice so that the others may survive?

The exercise, of course, demands that we suspend disbelief in the scenario itself where all sorts of outcomes of success are possible given modern technology, chance happenings, and the like. 

Needless to say, a variety of answers are possible, or even preferred by whomever is leading this discussion.  The situation ethicist would see this scenario to state that ethical judgments are relative since normal ethical rules don't apply here.  To them, someone has to die in order that others may live, and it makes no real difference who goes overboard.

Other brands of relativists would suggest that there is relative worth in the persons in question:  why not sacrifice the prostitute or the elderly woman since their worth is no doubt less than the others in the lifeboat?  This position relativizes the worth of the human person based upon utility to society (the elderly woman) or the moral condition of the person in question (the prostitute or the priest, depending on your biases).

For the Christian, two valid responses would be possible.  The first is that you voluntarily sacrifice yourself so that the others may live.  This response is akin to the choice Maximillian Kolbe made in Auschwitz.  It is the sainly response of perfect Christian love.  The other valid Christian response is to refuse to make a choice.  Everyone will remain in the lifeboat and we throw no one overboard.  This response would fulfill the Socratic dictum:  it is better to suffer an injustice than to commit an injustice.  It also recognizes the fact that a person's worth is not dependent upon their moral character or their worth to society, but rather it is an inherent quality stemming from the very nature of the human person.  All possess intrinsic worth and dignity because we are made in God's image and likeness, redeemed in Christ, and called to holiness by the Holy Spirit. 

Before we walk away smugly because we chose rightly in the hypothetical scenario, let us consider the fact that each election cycle the lifeboat scenario plays itself out, and sadly we Christians quickly become situation ethicists and relativists of various stripes. 

For Christians of a liberal persuasion, care and concern for the poor and social justice are important values.  They are right to call for a preferential option for the poor in our decisions on the common good, and they champion respect for immigrants, minority groups, and others on the margins.  However, the unborn are cast out of the political lifeboat, even though the humanity of the unborn is beyond dispute.  The unborn are cast aside for political expedience under the banner of a woman's right to choose.  The life of one is cast aside for the demands of another. 

On the other hand, Christians of a conservative persuasion are right to defend the rights of the unborn and to oppose assisted suicide and other threats to human life.  However, in doing so they often succumb to the political pressures of their party of choice in marginalizing immigrants, defending a capital punishment system that is without merit, and join the march toward the next dubious war.  Sadly some left leaning Christians also follow those drumbeats of war and still cling to the death penalty.

In reflecting on the lifeboat scenario, our goal is not to endorse one candidate or party over another.  It is rather designed to remind the Christian community of the consistent ethic of life that led us to the conclusion we made in the hypothetical lifeboat scenario.  We cannot relativize the value and dignity of any human person for political expedience.  We should be challenging both parties and all candidates to protect, defend, and respect all human life, in the words of Pope John Paul II.

This consistent ethic of life transcends the political and calls us to something far deeper.  It is in imitation of the Lord Jesus who called us to welcome the stranger, challenged us to care for the poor, defended the woman caught in adultery from execution, and bid us to suffer the little children to come to him.  Political storms will rock the lifeboat and test our resolve in caring for every human being, but Jesus is present in the storm as he is present within each human person.  The storm will abate when we realize the false choices presented to us in the political realm and instead we choose to protect everyone without question.   

Caring for the Body of Christ

Note:  The following is a homily by St. John Chrysostom.  John came from the region of Cappadocia in modern day Turkey.  He spent his formative days in the Christian community that lived in caves and worshipped in small cave churches:  simple, egalitarian, poor.  He later became Patriarch of Constantinople and its large, opulent church buildings.  John chaffed at such ostentation and segregation that took place in the huge church structures of the eastern capital of the Roman Empire.  The following sermon refects his understanding of the Church of the poor, the Church to which we are called to be by the Second Vatican Council.

Do you want to honor Christ's body?  Then do not scorn him in his nakedness, nor honor him here in the church with silken garments while neglecting him outside where he is cold and naked.  For he who said: "This is my body," and made it so by his words, and also said:  "You saw me hungry and did not feed me", and "inasmuch as you did not do it for one of these, the least of my brothers, you did not do it for me."  What we do here in the church requires a pure heart, not special garments; what we do outside requires great dedication.

Let us learn, therefore, to be men of wisdom and to honor Christ as he desires.  For a person being honored finds greatest pleasure in the honor he desires, not in the honor we think best.  Peter thought he was honoring Christ when he refused to let him wash his feet; for what Peter wanted was not truly an honor, quite the opposite!  Give him the honor prescribed in his law by giving your riches to the poor.  For God does not want golden vessels but golden hearts.

Now, in saying this I am not forbidding you to make such gifts; I am only demanding that along with such gifts and before them you give alms.  He accepts the former, but he is much more pleased with the latter.  In the former only the giver profits; in the latter, the recipient does too.  A gift to the church may be taken as a form of ostentation, but an alms is pure kindness. 

Of what use is it to weigh down Christ's table with golden cups, when he himself is dying of hunger?  First, fill him when he is hungry; then use the means you have left to adorn his table.  Will you have a golden cup made but not give a cup of water?  What is the use of providing the table with cloths woven of god thread, and not providing Christ himself with the clothes he needs?  What profit is there in that?  Tell me:  If you were to see him lacking the necessary food but were to leave him in that state and merely surround his table with gold, would he be grateful to you or rather would he not be angry?  What if you were to see him clad in worn-out rags and stiff from the cold, and were to forget about clothing him and instead were to set up golden columns for him, saying that you were doing it in his honor?  Would he not think he was being mocked and greatly insulted?

Apply this also to Christ when he comes along the roads as a pilgrim, looking for shelter.  You do not take him in as your guest, but you decorate your floor and walls and the capitals of the pillars.  You provide silver chains for the lamps, but you cannot bear even to look at him as he lies chained in prison.  Once again, I am not forbidding you to supply these adornments; I am urging you to provide these other things as well, and indeed to provide them first.  No one has ever been accused for not providing ornaments, but for those who neglect their neighbor a hell awaits with an inextinguishable fire and torment in the company of the demons.  Do not, therefore, adorn the church and ignore your brother, for he is the most precious temple of all.