S
sojo
Guest
I’m not so sure one must be a religious to learn about and embrace poverty. When I converted from non-practicing (but very cultural) Jew, I had to give up some strong beliefs and embrace some doctrines that went against the grain. And I was still holding onto 2 very big ones as I approached the final weeks before baptism. Giving up these beliefs I was not even aware I owned was far more painful than I ever would have imagined.Me, too, and something I think I probably cannot understand unless I belong to a religious society and have that sort of support for the truly impoverished (not just possessions, but opinions and beliefs that conflict with and distract from the love of Christ) yet rich beyond measure, life here on earth.
The best I seem to be able to do is to offer everything I have and everything I am up to that cross of Jesus, every day. To be willing to lose it all, everything including my life, if that is what Jesus requires of me.
As a mother dealing with infertility, I had to give up more cherished dreams and beliefs in what being a woman was about. Later, when finally presented with my “miracle” baby against all odds, only to learn he would be born with Down syndrome - more loss that had to be embraced instead of cursed.
Finally, as a mother, I embrace a bit of poverty every time I give up a delicious meal in order to provide for my son, or give him the best, most tasty part, or even go hungry on occasion, or spend a rare day off doing some childish thing instead of something for myself. So many Masses that went by in a blur, not hearing a word, just trying to keep him entertained and as a late convert, this was very painful - I “needed” the peace and healing of Mass! Driving a long ways for a fun outing and having to leave when the leg brace malfunctioned, or the rental wheelchairs were sold out, or they served nothing he could tolerate and we ran out of his special foods.
Learning to gracefully give up one’s own pleasure, comfort, sleep, desires and occasionally good health… enduring stares, or pitiful glances, or disdain (why on EARTH did that woman not get an amnio and abort… she’s clearly old enough to qualify for an amnio)… are these not all forms of poverty and mortification?
Many new moms would trade a fortune for a solid 8 hours of sleep and a decent meal SITTING DOWN. I believe this, too, is a taste of poverty. Its a matter of resent it or embrace it.
In the disability world we say that parents of disabled kids either get “better or bitter.” It is a choice each one makes for himself.
So all this talk about obedience and poverty and what is truly meant by it is very important, I think. And if this sad story of Fr. Corapi has brought some of us to contemplate these things, I think it is a very lovely gift and opportunity that our Lord has lovingly extended to us.