A Sliding Scale Of Need?

As we have seen in recent posts, Basil of Caesarea's stance on wealth and poverty is blunt and uncompromising, but also wholly relevant to today, where consumerism has achieved almost god-like status.

This piece shows that Basil was also a keen and unflinching observer of human nature - and human excuses. The writer identifies

'the human tendency to adjust the definition of "need" to fit one's current level of income'.

Basil, he says, was on to this 1600 years ago. His homily (practical sermon) on the man in Jesus' parable, I Will Tear Down My Barns [and Build Bigger Ones] treats the barns not so much as symbols of wealth but rather as representing our definition of needs based on our circumstances.

'In effect', continues the article, 'Basil says that if we never have any extra to share, this is due to the fact that whenever we find ourselves in possession of a surplus, we immediately adjust our definition of need to fit the new situation.'

(You say) "I will pull down my barns and build larger ones.” But if you fill these larger ones, what do you intend to do next? Will you tear them down yet again only to build them up once more? What could be more ridiculous than this incessant toil, laboring to build and then laboring to tear down again?

In his sermon "To the Rich", Basil sees this as a form of madness. "Those who have acquired wealth and have great possessions, desire more of the same, nursing the sickness by perpetual accumulation. Having so much here and now fails to bring them happiness, since they grieve over what they don't have, and convince themselves they're lacking. 'We're poor!', they say. And it's true, because a poor person lacks much, and much are you lacking because of your insatiable desires! What was it that killed Naboth? [1 Kings 21] Was it not King Ahab's greed for his vineyard?"

And so, Basil concludes, you commit injustice to so many when you could have helped them - which applies to any level on the scale of wealth.

The Poor Have Faces

As we have seen from previous posts, Basil of Caesarea was adamant that the hoarding of personal wealth was unnatural and a crime against compassion and justice. For him, the issue was both logical and clear:

"If we all took only what was necessary to satisfy our own needs, giving the rest to those who don't have enough, no-one would be rich and no-one would be poor."
(Homily on I Will Tear Down My Barns)

Basil wasn't alone in saying these things at the end of the 4th century. John Chrysostom and Gregory of Nyssa were equally outspoken. What makes Basil stand out, however, is his humanity. To others, rich and poor were more of a moral dilemma, an issue (albeit of vital importance) without faces. You can resonate with their arguments, value their prophetic courage in offending the powerful, but remain strangely unmoved inside.

With great rhetorical skill, Basil gives the poor an identity as people. In various sermons and homilies he paints verbal pictures: the street urchins huddled in doorways, the old man gone blind through neglect and starvation, the agonised mother forced to sell a child into slavery to pay off a debt.

It was this gut-level compassion that also stirred Basil to do something practical: the building of the Basiliad outside Caesarea, a complex which included a poor-house, hospice, and hospital, and was regarded at the time as one of the wonders of the world.

This page offers some thoughts and practical considerations of how the vision of the Basiliad could affect our Christian discipleship today.

Love Means Distribution

Given Basil of Caesarea's stance on simplicity and sustainability (see last three posts), it will come as no surprise that he pushed hard for sharing and justice. For Basil, distribution of one's surplus to those in need is an imperative, not an option .

If you have been blessed with more money and goods than others, it is so you can meet the needs of those others, he argues. 'It takes wealth to care for the needy; a little paid out for the needs of each person, and all at once there is sharing. Whoever loves his neighbour as himself [as Christ taught], will not hold on to more than his neighbour has.' (Sermon To the Rich)

This post and this article show that Basil's contemporary, John Chrysostom, bishop of Antioch, echoed these sentiments and expressed them even more forcefully.

"Wealth is like a snake; it will twist around the hand and bite unless one knows how to use it properly." The huge injustices that wealth creates are intolerable to him. But Chrysostom is no proto-Marxist. "Should we require soldiers to come and seize the rich person’s gold and distribute it among his destitute neighbors? Should we beg the emperor to impose a tax on the rich so great that it reduces them to the level of the poor and then to share the proceeds of that tax among everyone?"

"Equality imposed by force would achieve nothing, and do much harm. The rich whose gold was taken away would feel bitter and resentful; while the poor who received the gold form the hands of soldiers would feel no gratitude, because no generosity would have prompted the gift. Far from bringing moral benefit to society, it would actually do moral harm. Material justice cannot be accomplished by compulsion, a change of heart will not follow. The only way to achieve true justice is to change people’s hearts first — and then they will joyfully share their wealth." (Sermon On Living Simply)

Disciplines Of Simplicity

This post from GodFirst Blog seemed to chime in harmony with my last two posts on simplicity and sustainability.

It is a summary of key practical disciplines for a simpler life, drawn from Richard Foster's seminal work, Celebration of Discipline, which first appeared in 1978. I reproduce a few below, with echoes from Basil of Caesarea sixteen centuries earlier.

* Buy things for their usefulness rather than for status. Basil: 'When I enter a house and see it shimmering with every kind of crass trinket, I realise that the owner may have given what was soulless a facelift, but he has an unbeautified soul'.

* Develop a habit of giving things away. Basil attacks the 'strange madness' whereby, 'when wealth overflows, it gets buried in the ground in secret places, "in case they need it one day".' And this, while the poor and hungry clamour at their gate.

* Reject anything that will breed oppression of others. Basil castigates the rich: 'How many people could one of your gold-encrusted fingers release from debt? How many broken-down homes could be rebuilt? You say you are doing no-one an injustice, yet you plunder so much for yourselves!'

* Learn to enjoy things without owning them. Basil: 'The world was created for the common benefit of all. The animals use in common the plants that grow naturally from the earth, and all living creatures permit each other to satisfy their need for food. But we hoard that which is common, and keep for ourselves what belongs to many others.'

Return To Simplicity

Basil of Caesarea wrote his sermon To the Rich sixteen centuries ago, but the context was strikingly similar to today. 'Those who have recently grown rich desire more of the same... They ought to be happy and contented, but immediately they yearn to be equal with the super-rich.' Meanwhile, 'thousands huddle in misery in doorways.'

But a time of crisis had struck, in the form of a great famine. Everyone was afraid of what might come. Social structures were under threat, established patterns of life could not be trusted. Not unlike the global threat of terrorism today.

Basil used the opportunity to press for justice, mercy and equality, but above all for simplicity.

"The soul becomes like the things it gives itself to," he writes in his Homily on Humility, "and takes the character and appearance of what it does. So let your demeanour, your dress, your walking, your sitting down, the nature of your food, the quality of your manner, your house and what it contains, aim at simplicity.

"And let your speech, your singing, the way you relate to your neighbour, be in accord with humility rather than with vanity. In your words let there be no empty pretence, in your singing no excess sweetness, in conversation be not ponderous or overbearing. In everything refrain from seeking to appear important."

Most of all, Basil pressed for a voluntary redistribution of wealth and resources, as in the first Church at Jerusalem. As this writer sees it, Basil 'saw it as a rule of life for all Christians. Moved by the extreme social needs of the population, and enlightened by the Scriptures, Basil insisted that the produce of the earth was intended for all. While God the Creator had indeed distributed it unevenly, he had done this with the intention that the rich should share with the poor.'

To Basil, a refusal to embrace simplicity and sustainability is a crime. "Someone who steals clothes off someone’s back is called a thief. Why should we refer to the one who does not clothe the naked, while having the means to do so, as anything else? The bread that you have belongs to the hungry, the clothes that are in your cupboard belong to the naked, the shoes that are rotting in your possession belong to the barefooted, the money that you have buried belongs to the destitute. And so you commit injustice to so many when you could have helped them." (Homily I Will Tear Down My Barns)

God Said "Go!"

I had never heard of Rob Hall, but this article grabbed both my head and my heart.

Rob was a Canadian who heard the call of God, like his hero, Abraham, to 'Go!', without knowing quite where he would end up. He and his wife Kate (cousin of songwriter and worship leader Ben Cantelon) took this full on the chin, knowing it would mean leaving behind everything they'd known and embarking with their three young children on a voyage into the unknown.

'The plan? To learn what it means to be on an adventure with God,' they wrote in their blog. 'Sharing ideas on helping people launch their own adventure and hopefully in some way using our skills to bring justice and mercy to those in need.'

The Halls didn't side-step the radical implications of the call. 'Have you ever wondered what you would do if all you had on earth was the possessions you could carry with you?', Rob wrote. 'What would you keep? What would you get rid of? If you don’t deal with your baggage before you start, it will be an even bigger burden as you move on. This is true both spiritually and practically.' This clip shows what a family of five ended up with.

The path took them via the Christian community at Taizé in France to a Bible college in Zambia, where they taught theology, agriculture and Christian entrepreneurship.

Then, with the vision still in its infancy, Rob was killed in a construction site accident. His funeral was in early March 2011. This webpage set up in his memory shows the amazing impact of his example. Friends are urging all Christians to do "random acts of kindness" to others, in memory of Rob.

I close with some wise sayings that Rob cites in the blog, which illustrate the heart of a passionate disciple of Jesus Christ.

If you want change - take risks.

If you want security - get ready to jump.

If you want adventure - allow for the unplanned.

If you want to write a book - live something worth writing about.

If you think it will be easy - think again.