Saturday of the First Week of Advent

O people of Zion, who dwell in Jerusalem,
no more will you weep;
He will be gracious to you when you cry out,
as soon as he hears he will answer you.
The Lord will give you the bread you need
and the water for which you thirst.

As a Franciscan I often meditate on the poverty of Jesus and the poverty of “God’s poor,” the anawim. They were the devout poor such as we find in the Gospel according to Saint Luke: Mary, Joseph, Zechariah and Elizabeth. The anawim must rely on the Lord for they have no other protector. The rich and powerful ignore their plight as disasters – natural and man-made – continually sweep over them.

But the Bible was created by scholars and scribes, not by impoverished people. People who are scrapping from day to day for food and shelter don’t have the leisure to write great literature like today’s readings from Isaiah and Matthew. If it takes a village to raise a child it takes a city to write Isaiah or Genesis, and that city must include many writers, readers, and critics who have the time and energy to discuss such matters. 

The ancient Biblical writers faced the same spiritual challenge that we face today. Despite their  relative comfort, they had to see that “essential poverty” which lies beneath all the structures we have built to protect us from catastrophe. If I have a job today and the economy is providing for my needs and those around me, I may find it very difficult to realize this could all collapse before the day is out. After all, I have made every effort to avoid that possibility, and so has the nation in which I live. I have a job, a bank account, insurance, credit and hundreds of other security systems to keep life predictable and stable. What can go wrong? 

But things do go wrong. Disease, accidents, crime, obsessive-compulsive behaviors, recessions, droughts, famines, wars. If I don't see impending poverty on television I can take a drive into town. But I don’t want to think about it!

Our religion, rooted in memories of poverty and prosperity, reminds us of our essential helplessness. Everything is gift; everything comes from God. One’s talents, ambitions, creativity and energy are poor paddles in a roaring cataract of economic, political and military violence. An atheist might call prosperity “Good Luck” but only a fool would say, “I earned it.” 

He will be gracious to you when you cry out,
as soon as he hears he will answer you.
The Lord will give you the bread you need
and the water for which you thirst.