Care for the Poor is Not a Christian Virtue

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‘Tis the season for tax cuts on Capitol Hill, and as a result, it is also the season for reminders that Christians are required by scripture to show a preferential option for the poor. Take, for example, Brennan Breed’s excellent essay arguing that the Bible mandates collective responsibility for the poor, rather than only individual responsibility. Or the dozen Christians arrested this week in a Senate office building for reading scripture passages about God’s concern for the poor. Given these examples, one would think that care for the poor is a Christian virtue. However, care for the poor is not a Christian virtue; being poor is.

The Hebrew scriptures are full of commands that the people of Israel care for the poor, and Jesus is certainly concerned with the wellbeing of the poor as well. But Jesus goes farther. He tells the rich young ruler that it is good to follow the laws of Moses, laws which require concern for the poor, but following the law is not enough. Instead, Jesus tells him, you must give away everything you own to the poor and follow me. That is, the way of Christ is the way of poverty, simplicity, and detachment, not just donating a few cans to the food bank or voting for the party that is marginally less plutocratic.

Likewise, when Jesus said “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God,” what he meant was, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.” He did not mean, “Blessed are you when you genuinely worry about the poor and give a generous yet reasonable proportion of your income to charity.” Nor did he mean, “Blessed are you when your government taxes you to provide essential services to the poor.” Both of those statements are certainly better than their alternatives, but they don’t sound like Jesus. Instead, Jesus recognized that our blessing is our relationship with God, a relationship that is best entered from a place of emptiness and need rather than abundance and independence.

Of course, we have a collective responsibility to care for the poor, but that does not alter our profound need to disconnect ourselves from a culture that celebrates the birth of an impoverished God-man with conspicuous overconsumption. Poverty is a virtue because the alternative, the love of money from which we all suffer, is so corrosive. Of course, most of us do not think that we actually love money, but if this were true then the idea of giving away all we have to the poor would not be so bizarre.

Indeed, our desperation for money is so endemic that we rarely notice it. Writing in the Washington Post, Michael Gerson discussed the impeding tax cuts, arguing “…compassionate conservatives (the few of us who remain) view healthy, sustained economic growth as a moral achievement — justly rewarding effort and enterprise and allowing society to be more generous to those in genuine need.” Gerson’s thinking perfectly reflects the way we think about money in our own lives and in our society. We want more of it so that we can help others, and, of course, keep a well-earned bit for ourselves. But this is not the New Testament message. Jesus does not want us to help the poor while keeping ourselves comfortable and apart. He asks us to trust that the treasures he offers are better than those that our society offers. He asks us to believe that the heavenly 401K is a good deal better than our employer’s.

Jesus was a radical. If we want to follow Jesus, we do not get to give some portion of our lives to God and hold some portion back. Nor do we get to give some fraction of our money to the poor and hold some back for our security and comfort, especially as long as there are those without. Admittedly, this is terrifying. Poverty is frightening, and I am not willing to go there yet. But my fear is tremendous failing caused by my lack of faith. I, like the rich young ruler, am quite fond of my comfort and I am unwilling to part with it. Yet, until I do, I, like the rich young ruler, am not truly following Jesus Christ.

Brian Snyder is an Assistant Professor of Environmental Science at Louisiana State University and a member of First United Methodist Church in Baton Rouge, La.