Lord Acton held the conviction, expressed by Christian thinkers
throughout history, that poverty is not a merely material problem, but a moral
and spiritual problem as well:
The remedy for poverty is not in the material resources of the rich, but
in the moral resources of the poor. These, which are lulled and deadened by
money-gifts, can be raised and strengthened only by personal influence, sympathy,
charity. Money gifts save the poor man who gets them, but give longer life
to pauperism in the country.
Lord Acton correctly concluded that simply alleviating the material
difficulties of the poor without addressing their spiritual and moral difficulties
did not solve the problem of poverty, and in fact had a tendency to worsen it.
Before the creation of the welfare state, poverty relief was
provided almost entirely by churches or other local religious associations.
That the primary locus of charity should have been religious, and more specifically,
Judeo-Christian, is not accidental. In the history of Christian charity one
can see the truth of the Christian understanding of man in application: That
man, created in the image and likeness of God, has a unique dignity before Him;
that God has the power to transform and elevate man, making him a "new
creation", and that Christian charity has by analogy a sacramental reality.1
In his recent book The Tragedy of American Compassion,
Marvin Olasky demonstrates that Americans shared Lord Acton's belief almost
universally prior to the late nineteenth century. Olasky points out that almost
all poverty relief was administered privately before the Great Depression. Olasky
shows that relief was given with the understanding that it was temporary and
contingent upon the recipient exhibiting demonstrable efforts at achieving independence,
and that such relief was highly effective. These restrictions were placed upon
recipients specifically to encourage habits of industry and self-reliance and
to prevent "pauperization".2 "Pauperism" was understood as
a state of material dependence, characterized by lack of initiative, lassitude,
and spiritual malaise.3 Most Americans believed that merely giving the poor relief
without requiring efforts at self-improvement on their part encouraged them
to habits of idleness and dissolution and ultimately to deeper dependence:
Many, once learning to lean on public or associated relief, not only neglect
to exert the powers God gave them, but continue to call for aid long after
it is right. This leads on the broad road to pauperism.4
There has been a shift in attitudes regarding poverty and how
best to serve the poor. Many people no longer see relief as a temporary phenomenon,
but as an entitlement. The requirement that a person who sought assistance must
justify his or her claim has largely been discarded, and with it the sense of
an individual's responsibility for himself. This shift in attitudes is inconsistent
with a Judeo-Christian understanding of the human person's dignity.
Historically, the problem of poverty has been seen as endemic
to the fallen human condition, and therefore ineradicable. The Old Testament
tells us "the poor will never cease out of the land,"5 and in the New
Testament Jesus says "you always have the poor with you."6 Individual
poor people may be helped out of poverty, but poverty remains. Only in this
century did people begin to think of poverty as a problem that could be eliminated
entirely.7 But the historical acceptance of the fact of poverty did not produce
complacence or indifference. Rather, the scriptures of Judaism and Christianity
place strict moral obligations on the wealthy to share with those who are in
need. But these traditions have also always viewed human beings as individuals
who are responsible for themselves and accountable to God and their fellow men.
The practice of charity thus required that the needs of poor persons be balanced
against their dignity and responsibility.
This charity had as its object not only helping the poor out
of their material plight, but enabling them to become self-sufficient. The rationale
behind this effort was explicitly moral. The relief organizations wished to
"foster amongst the poor the habits of industry, providence, frugality,
saving, and honest desire to rise in the world, and simple dependence on their
own exertions."8 Churches were careful to distinguish between the "helpless"
poor, such as the sick, the aged, and orphans, and the "able" poor,
those able to support themselves but needing work. Those who were in the first
class received aid with no strings attached, those in the second received aid,
but were expected to reform their lives and become productive citizens.9
The churches' methodology and theology of charity in nineteenth
century America is strikingly similar to that of the early Christian Church
in the fourth century and following. In the fourth century, Christianity became,
in stark contrast to it's earlier persecuted status, the religion favored by
the Empire. This led to an explosion of growth in membership, and an accompanying
explosion of philanthropy toward the Church. This philanthropic activity was
unlike anything which had existed previously, both in scope and in character.10
The scale of giving to the Church was so vast that churchmen such as St. Augustine
had the enviable problem of having more money than they needed to take care
of the poor.11
That wealthy individuals would give food and money to the poor
was not unknown in pagan Rome, but these distributions were almost always politically
motivated, and they were accompanied by much fanfare and publicity. In pagan
Rome, when a wealthy man gave away money he would make sure that everyone knew
he was doing it. In that way he would increase his prestige as a "great
man."12 Every great man also had his clients, men of lower socio-economic
status who were dependent upon the patron for protection, assistance in obtaining
government services, and frequently for sustenance. In turn the client owed
the patron his services. These could range from attending him at the Forum to
acting as courier to getting out the vote for his patron at election time. The
client-patron relationship was hereditary: There was no escape from this subservient
status.
Philanthropy in Christian Rome differed in that it no longer
had the political aspects, because Christians were expected to remain anonymous.
The Fathers took quite literally Christ's injunction not to "let your left
hand know what your right hand is doing."13 St. Jerome castigated wealthy
Christian women who went about distributing alms publicly, telling them not
to become boastful in their charity.14 There was supposed to be no private
philanthropy among Christians. All almsgiving was to be done through the Church.
The wealthy were expected to give to the church, and the church officials responsible
(deacons and archdeacons) would see to its proper distribution.15 The parishioners
at a particular church at best would know that a particular wealthy man had
made a donation, but no poor parishioner would know specifically from whom his
relief had come. He would see his aid as coming from the Church, and not from
a particular person.
There were several reasons for the Church's insistence on being
the sole distributor of relief to the poor. The first is the Christian understanding
of all men being equal in the sight of God. This equality is a result of our
fallen nature and equal need for God's mercy as well as Christ's saving Grace.
It is also a result of our vocation and eternal predestination to a life with
God in heaven. We are all saved by Christ, and all brothers and sisters in Christ,
therefore it would not be fitting for some to be beholden or subservient to
others. Secondly, there was a conscious desire on the part of the Church to
avoid the patron-client model. The patron-client relationship is, from a Christian
perspective, clearly inferior to that of brothers in Christ. The third reason
is the desire to avoid giving the rich benefactors any cause to lord their patronage
over the rest of the Church. St. Jerome warned the rich to give quietly, "lest
any man should boast."16
But the final reason that the Church insisted on being the
sole distributor of relief is most important. The Church sees itself as the
Body of Christ, the distributor of Christ's Grace on earth. Furthermore, Christ
is the pre-existent Word of God, through whom all things were made. All good
things come to us through Christ, who is, as St. Augustine says, our Supreme
Good.17 If all good things come from Christ, and our spiritual relief comes through
Christ, then it is only fitting, indeed, it is necessary, that our corporeal
relief come from Christ's body on earth, that is, the Church. For we are creatures
with both a body and a soul, and Christ came to save both.18 If it belongs to
Christ to save us spiritually, then it belongs to Him to save our bodies, through
His Body, the Church.
Churches in the United States and the early Church regarded
poverty as both a material and a moral problem. The moral problem, as Lord Acton
correctly stated, is one of raising and strengthening the moral resources of
the poor. We have seen that material assistance was not given to the able-bodied
without clear evidence of a purpose of moral amendment. This moral amendment
was the cultivation of the virtues of self-sufficiency and industry. Self-sufficiency
and industry have been regarded as essential virtues by Christians since Apostolic
times. St. Paul decries busybodies who do no productive work and declares that
"any one who will not work, let him not eat."19 St. Thomas Aquinas says
that man has an obligation to support himself and his family,20 and St. Thomas
has been confirmed by modern papal teaching.21
These virtues of self-sufficiency and industry are inculcated
in the same manner as other virtues. According to Aristotle, "moral virtue
comes about by habit,"22 and we are habituated by being instructed and trained.
Furthermore, it is a "state of character which makes a man good and which
makes him do his own work well."23 St. Thomas follows Aristotle in classifying
virtue as a habit, but goes further, teaching that it "denotes a certain
perfection of a power,"24 and that it "belongs to a power of the soul."25
Thus the inculcation of virtue is the perfection of the power of the soul. This
perfection of the power of the soul is the function of Christ's Grace. We must
be habituated in virtue, but it remains to Grace to perfect it.
We are perfected in virtue at the supernatural level by Christ's
Grace. Christ's Grace transforms us by means of our relationship with Him, by
entering into the Paschal mystery. As our relationship with Christ at the supernatural
level transforms us, so too does our relationship with the other members of
Christ's Body analogously transform us at the natural level. Therefore, just
as the Christian's relationship with Christ is key to his supernatural redemption
and reformation, the Christian's relationships with others are the key to his
reformation at the natural level. Therefore the poor will only be transformed
materially in a relationship with the body of Christ.
Lord Acton realized this intuitively when he said that the
moral resources of the poor would be lifted up and strengthened "only by
personal influence, sympathy, charity." This uplifting of the poor is effected
by means of relationship between the members of the Body of Christ acting in
persona Christi, working on the pivot or fulcrum, as it were, of the gratitude
of the poor.
That the rich have a duty to alleviate the sufferings of the
poor is well attested in Scripture and the Tradition. St. Thomas teaches, following
St. Ambrose, that one has a duty to give out of any superfluous wealth to relieve
the plight of the poor.26 But the poor have a duty as well, that of Gratitude.
St. Thomas teaches that Gratitude is a virtue, and that one to whom a kindness
has been done has an obligation to reciprocate it. He says, following Aristotle,
that "we should do a kindness in turn to one who has been kind to us."27
If the poor who have received a kindness have a duty to turn around and "go
do likewise," implied is the idea that they will be in a position to do
a favor, which further implies that their circumstances will be remedied to
some extent. Therefore the ability to "go and do likewise," necessitates
that the poor will be reformed.
Now if God wills the end that the poor will be able to render
favors, then He must will the means of this coming to be. The means of the reformation
of the poor is the Grace of God, given through the mediation of the Body of
Christ. The members of the Body minister to each other, and each to the other
is an image and sign of Christ's Grace. The one giving to the poor is an image
and sign of the healing, saving Christ. The poor who receive are an image and
sign of the suffering, wounded Christ on the cross. Each party is acting in
persona Christi, a microcosm of the drama of salvation. The poor receive at
a natural level, but as St. Thomas teaches, Christian charity produces spiritual
fruits.28 The spiritual fruits grow up out of the relationship between the
members of the Body of Christ modeling Christ for one another. This action of
the members is sacramental by analogy. For a sacrament is a sign which effects
that which it signifies. By acting in persona Christi , signifying the
dual ministry of Christ as healer and sufferer, the poor and the rich can become
Christ for one another, and thus the Church becomes the agency of real transformation.
Lord Acton saw that outside of a relationship with the Body
of Christ, the poor had no real hope. In relationship, he saw that the poor
could be "lifted up and strengthened". Within the Church, as the early
Christians saw so well, relief of poverty could become a real act of redemption.
The redeemed poor are able to "go and do likewise." Being redeemed
they are able to act in the person of the healing Christ in turn, and initiate
a new cycle of redemption. The poor thus become truly elevated, truly empowered,
and both the impoverished and the affluent can fulfill their ultimate destiny
of glorifying God.
Notes
I would like to express my gratitude to Dr. John Thornbrugh of Saint Charles
Borromeo Seminary for his guidance, support, and helpful criticism in the
writing of this essay.
Marvin Olasky, The Tragedy of American Compassion (Washington: Regnery
Gateway, 1992) chapters 1 and 2.
Olasky 18, 2426.
The New York Association for Improving the Condition of the Poor, Twelfth
Annual Report (1855), 13. As cited in Olasky, 49.
Deuteronomy 15:11.
Matthew 26:11.
See Olasky, chapters 9 and 10.
Thomas Chalmers, The Sufficiency of the Parochial System Without a Poor
Rate (Glasgow, 1841). As cited in Olasky, 25.
See Olasky, chapter 3.
See Saint Jerome, Letter 22; Gerontius, Life of Melania the Younger;
Averil Cameron, The Mediterranean World in Late Antiquity (New York:
Routledge, 1993) chapter 6; Peter Brown, The Cult of the Saints (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1981) 3940.
Brown, 40.
See Lily Ross Taylor, Party Politics in the Age of Ceasar (Los Angeles:
1949).
Matthew 6:3.
Saint Jerome, Letter 22, 27, 32.
Saint Jerome, Letter 22; Gerontius, Life of Melania the Younger;
Cameron, Chapter 6; Brown 3940.
Saint Jerome, Letter 22, 27; Ephesians 2:9.
Saint Augustine, On the Morals of the Catholic Church and the Morals
of the Manichees, Book I, Section 25.46.
1 Corinthians 15:5154.
2 Thessalonians 3:1011.
Saint Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, II-II, 32, 6.
Pope Leo XIII, Rerum Novarum 20.
Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics II, 1.
Aristotle, II, 5; 957.
Saint Thomas Aquinas, III, 55.1.
Saint Thomas Aquinas, III, 56.1.
Saint Thomas Aquinas, IIII, 32.5; following St. Ambrose, Sermo
LXXXI.
Saint Thomas Aquinas, IIII, 106.6; cf. Aristotle, Ethics V,
5.
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