Visits to sister communities always cause me to ask deep questions of myself, to reflect on the world in which we live, and to question, given our world, how am I, and how are we, as Christians, called to live, to respond, and to act.
The characteristics and reality of poverty go far beyond social and economic aspects. “Poverty means death: lack of food and housing, the inability to attend properly to health and education needs, the exploitation of workers, permanent unemployment, the lack of respect for one’s human dignity, and unjust limitations placed on personal freedom in the areas of self-expression, politics, and religion. Poverty is a situation that destroys peoples, families, and individuals; Medellin and Puebla called it ‘institutionalized violence’ (to which must be added the equally unacceptable violence of terrorism and repression).”[1]
Poverty of the Church is meant to be spiritual poverty, in the sense of a readiness to do God’s will. Poverty of the Church also means “solidarity with the poor, along with protest against the conditions under which they suffer.”[3]
I believe that sistering is an integral expression of our commitment as well as the most direct avenue for learning about not only the world, but the faith response of the poor and their holy struggle for liberation. This is a struggle that we are all baptized into. These are the people, who, if we truly believe that “all are welcome here” gather around our Eucharistic table each week for reconciliation, nourishment, and greater communion in the family of God. It is not enough that we merely acknowledge their presence at the table. Indeed, it has never been enough that we merely acknowledge each other at Eucharist. Nor was a friendly wish of “have a nice day”, or “see you next week” ever sufficient. We continue to be reminded of our baptismal responsibilities through the final command with which we always end our Eucharistic celebrations, “Go now to love and serve the Lord and each other.”
It is important to get past the notion that the primary aspect of our sistering is to help those less fortunate. Hopefully, our relationship is not centered to an extreme on the notion of their “dependence” nor on the need for the more “developed” countries and communities to rescue them from their misery. Rather, it is through sistering that we struggle to understand and accept a life of poverty, the poverty of the Church.
Through sistering it is a personal, familial, and communal relationship that we are seeking, both on a human level and on a faith level. Sistering offers us an opportunity to understand one of the principal signs of our times, and a corresponding challenge for us to examine and re-interpret our world and ecclesial situations in the light of the gospel.
“Latin American Christians are experiencing a tense and intense period of solidarity, reflection, and martyrdom.”[4] Through our sistering we not only express our solidarity with them. We are invited into reflection, and indeed, into martyrdom; their physical martyrdom and our own sacrificing of selves in the fashion of our Lord, to be broken and given for the life and liberty of others. Therein we could find our own liberation and salvation as well.
If we claim to be a part of a church that proclaims a “preferential option for the poor” or in the words of John XXIII (address of September 11, 1962) that our church is a “church of the poor” how does our church demonstrate and live out that preferential option for the poor? How do we? How do I?
In his groundbreaking book, The Theology of Liberation, the theologian Gustavo Gutierrez concludes with a final analysis. He states that, “an option for the poor is an option for the God of the kingdom whom Jesus proclaims to us….The ultimate reason for commitment to the poor and oppressed is not to be found in the social analysis we use, or in human compassion, or in any direct experiences we ourselves may have of poverty. These are all doubtless valid motives that play an important part in our commitment. As Christians, however, our commitment is grounded, in the final analysis, in the God of our faith. It is a theocentric, prophetic option that has its roots in the unmerited love of God and is demanded by this love.”[5]
If we understand the Church, and God’s preferential option for the poor, ought we not reflect upon the consequences for our Christian life? And then live accordingly?
God has a partiality for the poor. If we are to proclaim and live out Christian love how can we not aggressively enter into the ministry of Jesus, who shared in, lived out, and exercised that same salvific partiality?
Through our sistering we have made, and we exercise, an “option for the poor.” We have entered into solidarity with their suffering and their pathways of emancipation. Thus, we have become part of the People of God and the Church of the Poor.
