The Poor Will Always be Among Us

John 12:1-8

 

        Nearly 40 years ago I was invited to a conference on poverty that took place at a Presbyterian Church in Washington. Most of my day was spent visiting various ministries that were doing their best to address issues of poverty, racism, crime and housing. It was a daunting task. 

        When the conference concluded I took an extra day by myself in our capital city. I went to all the usual places and then drove to the National Cathedral. When George Washington envisioned the land across the Potomac as a site for our country’s Capital, he also dreamed of a structure which would become our national church. The construction did not begin until 1907. Five years later the first services were held in the Bethlehem Chapel. When I first visited the Cathedral, construction was still taking place on the west tower. Work was finally completed in 1980.

        When I entered the cathedral, I was overwhelmed by its massive size. Having never been to Europe, our cathedral is my only connection to those beautiful works of architecture. I took the elevator to the east tower which is best known for its amazing view of Washington. I gazed out at the city, located the familiar landmarks, and then my eyes began to focus from afar on the sections of the city that had captivated my last few days.   I began to calculate the amount of money that had been spent over the previous 70 years to make this edifice possible. I compared that to the budgets of those dedicated folks trying to keep poverty from swallowing DC. Looking out at the capital, I wondered how money spent on the cathedral might have served God better on the opposite side of town.

        “The poor will always be with us.” How often have those words from the lips of Jesus served as both a justification and a rallying point to address an explosive yet permanent stain on our national landscape. Poverty in Washington is worse than it was 40 years ago. While I don’t have the numbers to prove it, crime certainly seems to be higher. I do know one in three children in DC go to bed hungry. The cynical side of me observed the cathedral towering over those children. I left with a narrow, certainly biased opinion of any church that sits upon a hill. Perhaps my 40 years my grappling with of this morning’s text has helped to soften my restricted vision.

        Jesus was visiting with Mary, Martha and Lazarus. The smell of death was in the air. Just days before Jesus had reached into the tomb and grasped the hand of his dearly departed friend. Can you imagine what it must be like to sit with someone who had been dead for three days? Certainly the experience of Lazarus had to be the center of the conversation. What does death feel like? Did Lazarus see a bright light? Did he remember anything? Perhaps Martha remembered one moment Lazarus was having a normal day, going about his work, and then instantly he was gone. There was no warning and certainly no time for goodbyes. Hearing the conversation Mary looked at Jesus and remembered his words concerning what might greet him in Jerusalem. Overcome with the emotions of almost losing a brother, Mary grabbed ointment left over from the preparation of the body of her brother and began to rub it gently into the feet of her dear friend. It was a pure act of love. The death of her brother had left her shocked. His resurrection was still beyond her comprehension. Mary could not possibly have understood everything taking place but she knew death was eminent. She wanted a moment to grieve and say good-bye.

        The act of adoration was ruined by Judas.  His words should never be seen as a reflection on my courageous DC friends who work for Sojourners or Church of the Servant. He was a selfish worm who seldom saw beyond his next meal.

        “Why are you wasting these perfumes? Do you have any idea what they are worth on the open market? Imagine the mouths we could feed?”

Jesus replied, “The poor will always be with you. I will only be here a little time longer.”

        Jesus was literally right on both accounts. Poverty is still with us. Jesus was killed within the next two weeks. But to take those words literally gives the Judas’ still among us permission to ignore God’s holy intentions. The words of Jesus were never intended to eliminate the struggle to irradiate the dreadful sin of poverty. Thankfully, the presence of our Lord persists in the ministry of God’s people.

        When I served a church in Va. Beach, I was privileged to work with a group called St. Columba ministries. These folks evolved from a Presbyterian church that had closed into a ministry of compassion with folks in Va. Beach and Norfolk. The people of Va. Beach struggled to find a solution for homeless folks who had no place to sleep during the winter. City regulations eliminated the hope of a permanent shelter. So the St. Columba board approached churches in the area and asked each to transform their fellowship halls into a night shelter for one week. Churches responded and the homeless in Va. Beach had two meals and a place to stay from mid October through March. This program eventually expanded to other towns throughout Virginia. Ironically the program no longer exists in Va. Beach. Members of the same churches came together and decided a shelter, while a short term solution, was not the answer. These churches helped St. Columba to begin a program where folks were given short term housing and job training opportunities. Today, in Va. Beach every six months up to 24 men and woman are given the opportunity to leave the streets and start a path toward employment and permanent residence. The success rate has been remarkably high. 

        The physical presence of a church stands as a reminder that even in a world immersed in pain, God still calls us to be a people of justice and reconciliation.   I realize many churches spend a good part of their budget on staff salaries, the physical plant and other administrative items that might not go to feed the hungry. I also realize many churches struggle with finding the dollars just to keep the doors open causing mission opportunities to be set aside. But as I travel through our fair state, every time I see a building identifying itself as a place of worship I assume it wrestles with its obligations to its neighbors.

        On my second visit to the Washington Cathedral, I got up the nerve to speak to priest in charge of the daily ministries of the Cathedral. After letting off a little steam about how much money had gone to building such a magnificent building, I asked how all this effort was justified. His response was to share their mission statement.  The Cathedral’s purpose for existing is to be a catalyst for spiritual harmony in the nation, renewal in our churches, reconciliation among different faiths, and compassion in the world.  I smiled and said that sounded good but what were they doing to accomplish this. I then bragged how I was spending the week working with the Sojourners group who were trying to establish transitional housing in East DC. The priest nodded and complemented me on my dedication by saying, “Most folks would not spend 7 minutes much less 7 days in East DC. But they will come here. This weekend Jim Wallis, the head of Sojourner, is giving a seminar on poverty. He has also been invited to preach on Sunday.”

        “The poor will always be with us.” The good news is the church also continues to be among us. Sometimes it is a on a hill. Sometimes it is motivated by the vision of one person. Sometimes it is a light in a valley. Sometimes it is a community of folk who yearn to see beyond themselves. God’s spirit moves within us in ways that creates difficult and complicated conversations. But that same spirit, that holy catalyst, motivates us towards spiritual harmony, towards a renewal of fresh ideas, towards reconciliation and towards compassion with all people. We are the church, this confusing, intriguing, difficult body attempting to personify the wishes of our God.

        Sometimes when a text or my faith challenges me beyond my comfort zone I find myself returning to the beatitudes. You remember the beatitudes; it is that group of statements in Matthew that begins, “Blessed are the poor in spirit.” To the originals I have added:

        Blessed are those with a different way of approaching my understanding God’s truth.

        Blessed are those who are willing to challenge me.

        Blessed am I when I am willing to listen.

        Blessed is each of us when we are willing to act, in our own way, for the benefit of others.

        Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, regardless if you sit on a hill or reside in a valley.

        Jesus is no longer with us, but the church is. Again I say, “Rejoice and be glad.”                                     Amen.