Parts of this will be in my new book on Facing Adversity with Grace coming out later this spring.
I have to confess that I’ve long had a problem with those
who prattle on and on about how poor Jesus was and how destitute the Holy
Family must have been. Before anyone has a coronary, I agree that Jesus and the
Holy Family were “poor,” but their “poor” and our “poor” aren’t quite the same
thing. First of all, in first century Palestine, in fact, in first century
almost anywhere, there were only two categories—rich and poor. The “middle class” didn’t emerge until quite
recently in history. Jesus and his family certainly weren’t rich, so by default
they were poor. But being poor wasn’t the same as begging at the gates of the
city for scraps and even first century Palestine had its share of beggars. Poor
was what everyone (except the rich) was. Poor was average.
To say that the Holy Family lived in abject poverty seems to
me to be quite insulting to Joseph. He was a tekton, a skilled workman more
along the lines of what we would call a contractor. He wasn’t whittling the
occasional little bench or stool for his neighbors in exchange for a handful of
grapes. He probably was involved in much larger construction projects, possibly
even working in the nearby Roman city of Caesarea where massive public building
was going on. If he was unable to adequately provide for his family given his
talents and abilities and if they were reduced to begging for handouts from
their neighbors, which is what the truly poor had to do, then he shouldn’t be
held up as a model for husbands and fathers. The same goes for Mary. If she was
such a poor homemaker, unable to manage with what Joseph provided, that the
family was the poorest of the poor in their region, then why do we look to her
as our role for ideal wife and mother?
Those who want to call attention to how poor the Holy Family
probably aren’t imagining that they lived under a palm branch at the city wall,
digging in the garbage for their food and wearing cast-off rags, which is what
the truly poor would have been doing. I know that people claim as proof of
their destitution the fact Mary and Joseph offered a dove instead of a lamb in
the temple at the time of Jesus’ birth. Again, I’m not so sure that’s proof
positive of poverty. I personally think it’s more common sense. If you could
get the same blessing for buying a dove instead of a lamb, wouldn’t you buy the
dove? I may be wrong, but I’ve always thought of their action as more like
buying “generic” instead of “name brand.” In addition, I have the hunch that
the only people who bought lambs were those who wanted to show just how
important and wealthy they were. Mary and Joseph had no need to show off, even
if they did have an idea that their son would turn out to be someone quite
special, so they didn’t splurge on a lamb.
It seems to me that instead of calling them “poor,” it is much more realistic to think of the
Holy Family as “average,” not the elite with their marbled baths and
hummingbird tongue banquets, but a family who had adequate food, sufficient
clothing and a satisfactory dwelling to be able to live a normal life. In other
words, the Holy Family was pretty much just an ordinary family doing ordinary
things. If you are still questioning this, then consider that when Jesus was
12, they traveled to Jerusalem to celebrate Passover. It wasn’t cheap to travel
now and it wasn’t then. They had to pay for the caravan, their food, the temple
sacrifice and all the other expenses that come along with a “vacation.” If the
Holy Family were truly the poverty-stricken beggars of Nazareth, they wouldn’t
have been going anywhere, much less to the capital city for the biggest
festival of the year when all the prices would have been elevated to make a
profit off the visitors.
Or think for a bit about the Wedding Feast of Cana. If the
Holy Family were the truly poorest folk in the village, why would Mary even
presume to talk to the wine servers? She would have been grateful to be allowed
into the festival at all, much less get involved with the matters of what was
being served. She wouldn’t have been calling attention to herself or her son,
but probably sneaking a few morsels into a bag for the next day’s meal.
As for Jesus himself, it is true that he said he had no
place to lie down his head, but again I think he said that for emphasis’ sake.
After all, he did have a mother and family back in the old hometown and I’m
pretty sure they would have found him a bed and a blanket if he knocked on the
door. Moreover, the women who accompanied him and bankrolled his ministry, like
Mary Magdalene and the Johanna, the steward’s wife, were wealthy. I can’t
imagine that they didn’t provide more than adequately for his needs and those
of his disciples. Why else would the gospels make a point of telling us that
they were rich?
Jesus might not have had much money of his own, but his
ministry was well off enough that he and his disciples had money to give to the
poor, since we are told that Judas complained about spending money that could
have otherwise been donated. If the disciples themselves actually were the
poor, they would have been receiving money, not giving it away. In addition,
they had sufficient funds to rent a place for the Last Supper and eat a
full-blown Seder meal. Even in those days, the absolutely poverty-stricken
couldn’t afford a lamb, much less the rest of a Passover meal. Jesus and the
disciples had to have had sufficient funds to afford what amounted to a catered
dinner. Finally, the robe he wore to his death was so well made that the
soldiers cast lots for it. It couldn’t have been the rags of a beggar or they wouldn’t
have bothered keeping it.
I expect some people will be shocked and even angered by
this, but my point is not to say that Jesus was rich; he wasn’t. My point is to
show that suffering from severe financial hardship doesn’t have to be
considered a goal of our lives just because we have been taught that Jesus and
the Holy Family were “poor.” Jesus said he came to bring us abundant life, not
neediness and poverty. Moreover, being poor and in debt doesn’t automatically
create holiness. If it did, the crime rates in slums and inner cities would be
lowest anywhere. Of course, wealth brings its own set of temptations and
struggles, but the reality is that even saints need money to do their good
works, even if they merely have the money long enough to give it away. The only
time that poverty is a true blessing is when it is voluntary. Having to worry
about where the next meal comes from is suffering, not grace.
