Second Meditation, On the Poverty of Jesus Christ in his Birth

You know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, when he was rich, for your sakes became poor.— 2 COR. viii.

FIRST POINT.—From the very moment of his birth Jesus Christ begins to execute his design of living in Poverty. This divine Majesty, this sovereign Creator of the universe, to whom all things belong, might have been born amidst riches and abundance. This condition even seemed to accord best with the dignity of his person, and the object of his mission. For, coming, as he did, upon earth for the purpose of drawing men to himself and subjecting them to his law, what could be supposed more likely to engage them to follow him, than his assuming the splendour and pomp of earthly greatness? This, at least, was the notion entertained by the Jews of their expected Messias: they believed that he would come in all the magnificence of royalty, and would load his followers with temporal gifts. But, how different are ours from the views of God! This Messias, this Desired of nations, comes at last; but he comes in Poverty: his design being thereby to convince mankind of a truth, which he was afterwards to announce in his gospel, namely, that the poor are blessed (Mat. v.).

Example, on an occasion like this, is of more avail than the most eloquent discourse could be. It proves, beyond dispute, the merit and value of poverty, inasmuch as it was the choice of God himself. Nothing can be better calculated to inspire us not only with an esteem, but with a love and relish for that state, than to see it consecrated in the person of our God and Saviour.

Hence, although to embrace a state of actual Poverty by renouncing all worldly possessions, be not commanded, but only recommended, in the gospel, yet, as a Christian, I am strictly and indispensably obliged to be poor in spirit, by being at all times in the disposition to give up into the hands of God all that I enjoy—by considering what I have as lent to me during his good pleasure —and by regarding Poverty, when embraced or submitted to from a motive of religion, as amiable, by the near alliance which it confers to Jesus Christ—honourable, as the state which he chose for himself—and desirable, from the special title which it confers to the kingdom of heaven. Nay, when I consider my close affinity to Jesus Christ, my vocation to that ministry in his Church, which he first committed to those only who forsook all things to follow him, and my peculiar obligation of tending to perfection—I cannot doubt but it is my duty to follow the evangelical counsel of Poverty, so far as to lay aside all solicitude and anxiety for the things of this world—to be quite resigned and content under the privations to which I may be subjected—not to implicate myself in secular affairs for the sake of gain—to prove to the world by my general conduct that I have a real and inward contempt for riches—to exercise great charity to the poor in proportion to my means, and to use what I possess with moderation.

SECOND POINT.—If we examine the circumstances attending the birth of our Infant God, we shall find them all to indicate the most abject Poverty, which ever fell to the lot of a human being. In the range of a large city, not a house is to be found where he can be accommodated at his birth with shelter from the inclemency of the weather. After a fruitless search for this purpose by St. Joseph and his virgin spouse, they are compelled to take refuge in a miserable shed erected for cattle. Here our Poor Master is pleased to be born amongst us. The manger is converted into his cradle; his bed is, at best, but a little straw; and his clothing is made of tattered rags. Being now become like unto us, mortal and passible, how sensible must his infant body be of the privations which it endures! How must it feel the rigour of the winter season, and the want of something more than it has to defend it from the night cold! But no extremity of Poverty and wretchedness can be imagined, to which he is not willing to submit for our sakes.

Oh! what impressive lessons may be drawn from this stable, this straw, and these rags of our Infant Jesus! Were I not otherwise assured to the contrary, could I contemplate my Master in the stable of Bethlehem without believing his state of Poverty and misery to be an implicit command to every one of his disciples to renounce all worldly possessions, as did the primitive Christians? But, whilst I know that this degree of Poverty is not required of me, can I be deaf to the condemnation here pronounced by Jesus Christ against that spirit of avarice, which pervades the world, and from which even his ministers are far from being exempt? What I here behold should teach me the necessity of keeping my soul undefiled by the least taint of this odious vice. It should convince me that no good qualities can possibly redeem so foul a stain in one obliged by his vocation to inculcate to others disinterestedness and Poverty of spirit—that, if I pass for a priest who is fond of money, this total want of resemblance to my Master will justly render me despicable to all: and that, by thus losing the esteem and confidence of those entrusted to my charge, my ministry will be in a great degree fruitless.

Convinced, as I must be, of the necessity of my being poor in spirit, I cannot be too careful in scrutinizing the dispositions of my heart and my general conduct with reference to money and temporal prosperity. Stooping my head this day to go under the humble shed of Bethlehem, and there taking my station beside Jesus in the manger, I should endeavour to conceive a contempt for riches, by meditating on the vanity and instability of the goods of this world, and animating myself to confidence in that kind Providence, who never abandons the care of his faithful servants.—If I study the doctrine of those great and holy men, who in their Poverty have been faithful imitators of my Master, I shall see cause to dread the illusions of the demon of avarice, who often tries to insinuate his poison into the heart of a poor Pastor, by suggesting the idea of the great good which more ample means would enable him to effect: it will teach me that, where self-interest is concerned, excuses are seldom wanting for abandoning the finest projects in favour of religion and charity—that money is of itself a temptation, and that, if God give it to me, without a powerful grace to use it well, I may, and probably shall, abuse it. In short, the maxims of the saints will teach me that, under all privations, I ought not to murmur, but console myself by meditating on the declaration of the Apostle, that they, who will become rich, fall into temptation and into the snare of the devil, and into many unprofitable and hurtful desires, which drown men in destruction and perdition: for covetousness is the root of all evils; which some desiring have erred from the faith, and have entangled themselves in many sorrows (1 Tim. vi.).

THIRD POINT.—Another duty, to which the Poverty, that I behold in the stable of Bethlehem, cannot fail to draw my attention, is the great Gospel precept of charity to the poor. I cannot contemplate the privations of Jesus, without feelings of compassion and sympathy, and a desire to render him all possible relief and comfort. This he has assured me I may do, by exercising charity to his poor members. Nothing but a lively faith can be wanting to make me behold Jesus Christ in every object of distress that meets my eye. So essential in a true Christian is liberality to the poor, that it may be termed the touchstone of solid virtue. No virtue is more necessary or more amiable in a Pastor. On himself it draws down numberless blessings; and to the poor it is a source of abundant relief, for the rich are oftentimes induced by his example to give what they would otherwise withhold, and they readily make him the distributer of their charities. Then, how sweet it is to dry up the tear of the widow, and to become a father to the helpless orphan! He, who rewarded the liberality of Abraham by sending him angels for his guests—who rescued Lot from the flames of Sodom on account of his charity—who recompensed the widow that harboured Elias, by multiplying her oil—and who raised to life the son of the Sunamite woman, for receiving the prophet Eliseus—will not be unmindful of the good Pastor, who feeds the hungry, gives drink to the thirsty, and clothes the naked.

It is of importance that I should here examine, what use I make of the ecclesiastical property which comes into my hands. If what I receive from that source be more than sufficient for my decent maintenance, I cannot doubt, but that I am strictly bound to apply the superfluity either to the relief of the distressed, or to some other charitable or religious purpose; and, in so doing, I ought not to suppose that I have so much the merit of charity as of performing my duty. So generally is the doctrine of St. Bernard on this subject received in the Church, that it would be the greatest rashness not to adhere to it in practice. "Whatever (says that enlightened Father) you receive from the altar, beyond what is necessary for food and clothing, is not your own; and in keeping it, you are guilty of sacrilege." And again: "The naked and the hungry cry out and complain, that what you uselessly squander away is theirs, and is cruelly withheld from them." I know this to be the universal doctrine of the Fathers of the Church; and what once was true in this respect is true still.

CONCLUDING PRAYER.—O God, the Creator of heaven and earth, but whom I here adore under the form of a helpless Infant in a manger! I am sensible, that the state of Poverty which it was thy pleasure to embrace, and from which thou didst never depart, was designed to teach me, that all earthly goods are empty and vain; and that, to be rich for eternity, it is necessary that I should be poor in spirit. Unwilling to forego the joys of thy kingdom and the never-failing riches of thy glory, for all that the world can either give or take away, behold, I now cheerfully commit to thy care, and place at thy disposal, whatever I possess. Henceforth I will only consider myself as the steward of what thou permittest to come into my hands. Grant me the grace not to place my affections upon what thou didst despise; so that, should it please thee, as perhaps it may, to take from me either all or any part of my possessions, I may be disposed to say, with all the resignation and disinterestedness of holy Job: the Lord hath given, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be his name (Job. i.). Nay more; if thou, who knowest the secrets of my heart better than I do, seest therein any lurking attachment to what I enjoy, which is displeasing to thee, rather take it from me altogether, than leave it in my hands with the danger of its drowning me in destruction.

Why, my dear Master, should I not be content to be like thee? Or, why should I fix any part of my affections on what thou didst ever try, both by word and example, to make me despise? When I contemplate the wretched fate of the apostate Judas and look at my own frailty, I cannot but fear to indulge the least particle of avarice, which I know would soon increase, and in time might lead me also to betray thee. Save me, then, O Lord, through thy mercy, in the way thou knowest best; and never let it be my misfortune, as it has been that of thousands, to bring discredit upon the sacred ministry by the cursed love of money. Let it rather be my constant study, to keep my heart pure from the infection of avarice, by exercising a boundless liberality towards thy poor members, purely for thy honour and for the love of thee. Above all, forbid, O Jesus, that I should ever hoard up, or unlawfully squander away, the sacred deposit placed in my hands for the purposes of religion and charity. It is, at present, my sincere resolution not to do it; do thou always enable me by thy grace to fulfil my purpose.