We had just walked out of a McDonald’s with our to-go bag in hand when someone asked us for a bite to eat. My friar classmate Phil and I would occasionally escape from Mission Santa Barbara during our novitiate for a small snack. On this particular day, we settled on value menu chicken sandwiches and a French fry to split. But we hadn’t factored in this specific panhandler’s request. Surely we didn’t have enough food to spare, or so I thought.
Phil peered into the practically empty bag and forked over one of our small chicken sandwiches. The man walked away with a smile on his face and a thank-you on his lips, but I had a knot in my stomach. That was my sandwich, I thought to myself. I had looked forward to this guilty pleasure all week. Now what?
Phil revealed the remaining chicken sandwich and, like a priest at consecration, tore the sandwich in two, offering me my portion. “It’s not a lot, but it’ll do,” Phil said, shrugging off my obvious disappointment. But bite by bite, we savored our sandwich halves and a few fries til we were both miraculously full.
We walked back to the mission that day content with the little we had to share. I wondered, why was I so immediately guarded and unwilling to share? What was I lacking in that moment that I couldn’t give to a fellow human being in need?
Phil’s offering may seem like a small gesture, but even a small offering of love to those who are struggling is what Pope Leo XIV has described as “the ordinary path to conversion for those who wish to follow Christ with an undivided heart” [46]. On this year’s feast of St. Francis, Pope Leo published his first Apostolic Exhortation Dilexi te, continuing a document started by the late Pope Francis on the burning heart of the Church’s mission: love for the poor.
“Offerings, when born of love, not only alleviate the needs of one’s brother or sister, but also purify the heart of the giver, if he or she is willing to change” [46].
Phil’s small gesture of love helped me see inside my own heart and come to terms with the bitterness that was inside. Phil recognized that “the dignity of every human person must be respected today, not tomorrow” [92]. Like a good Franciscan, Phil was open to change and ready to respond to the needs of the poor right in front of him.
Love for the poor isn’t optional. Pope Leo makes it clear that God has a preference for the poor and outcast. Therefore, we also must have a preference for the poor. Every Christian should demonstrate a “commitment to the poor and to removing the social and structural causes of poverty.” [10] When our love for the poor is lacking, we need conversion.
St. Francis writes in his Testament that, when he was in sin, he hated lepers. But God led Francis among the lepers, and his bitterness turned to sweetness. Leo says that “in the person of a leper, Christ himself embraced Francis and changed his life” [6]. The poor have the ability to change our lives today too, if only we allow them. We need to risk being touched by the poor because “contact with those who are lowly and powerless is a fundamental way of encountering the Lord of history” [5].
If Scripture and tradition are so clear about the poor’s place in God’s kingdom, Pope Leo wonders “why many people continue to think that they can safely disregard the poor” [23]. Being in the United States—a nation some will claim is founded on “Christian values”—I wonder whether the poor truly have a preferred place here today?
Jesus’ Command: Serve the Poor
The United States is one of the wealthiest nations in the world, and yet this year we’ve slashed billions of dollars in foreign aid, closing soup kitchens and health clinics across the globe. If the United States will not lead the world in eradicating hunger, who will? One study estimates that such cuts could lead to the loss of 14 million lives by 2030.
We’ve become numb to the cry of these lives because we keep them at arm’s length, as if they’re none of our concern, a figure in a headline. But Pope Leo demonstrates that wealthier nations like ours have a responsibility to assist struggling nations with all their goods. We cannot remain “indifferent to countries suffering from hunger and extreme poverty” [83], because our mission is “a matter of hearing the cry of entire peoples, the poorest peoples of the earth” [91].
While the poor abroad are neglected, the poor at home fare no better. People struggling to find housing are often targets of new laws that criminalize sleeping on sidewalks or park benches, forcing them further into the peripheries. Migrants are increasingly viewed as threats to be hunted down and removed, rather than the “living presence of the Lord who, on the day of judgment, will say to those on his right: ‘I was a stranger and you welcomed me’” [73].
Our leaders seem unwilling to work together to respond to the needs of the poor. Political opponents are described as enemies of the people, and foreigners and the homeless are scapegoated as violent marauders invading our shores. The poor deserve leadership that is “capable of sincere and effective dialogue aimed at healing the deepest roots—and not simply the appearances—of the evils in our world” [92]. Christians are called to serve everyone in need, even foreigners, strangers, or people we don’t yet understand, because “anyone in need, even an enemy, always deserves our assistance” [25].
In Dilexi te, Pope Leo poses an urgent challenge for Christians in the US and around the world: “Either we regain our moral and spiritual dignity or we fall into a cesspool” [95]. Pope Leo calls Christians to turn their hearts toward the poor. We must remove the bitterness we have in our hearts for the marginalized, the migrant, the outcast, to make room for their suffering and struggles. We have to risk embracing the poor or we risk losing Jesus.
Dilexi te calls the Church to go back and reread the Gospel because there are a few things we have forgotten. We may not solve every systemic issue that oppresses the poor overnight, but just like Phil and his offering of a small sandwich, we can change history through small acts of charity. We can’t afford to wait any longer. Let’s resolve to live the Gospel Jesus has called us to, so that we can be a Church that the world needs, “a Church that sets no limits to love, that knows no enemies to fight but only men and women to love” [120].
Dilexi te’s Urgent Plea: Risk the Poor or Lose Jesus
We had just walked out of a McDonald’s with our to-go bag in hand when someone asked us for a bite to eat. My friar classmate Phil and I would occasionally escape from Mission Santa Barbara during our novitiate for a small snack. On this particular day, we settled on value menu chicken sandwiches and a French fry to split. But we hadn’t factored in this specific panhandler’s request. Surely we didn’t have enough food to spare, or so I thought.
Phil peered into the practically empty bag and forked over one of our small chicken sandwiches. The man walked away with a smile on his face and a thank-you on his lips, but I had a knot in my stomach. That was my sandwich, I thought to myself. I had looked forward to this guilty pleasure all week. Now what?
Phil revealed the remaining chicken sandwich and, like a priest at consecration, tore the sandwich in two, offering me my portion. “It’s not a lot, but it’ll do,” Phil said, shrugging off my obvious disappointment. But bite by bite, we savored our sandwich halves and a few fries til we were both miraculously full.
Phil’s offering may seem like a small gesture, but even a small offering of love to those who are struggling is what Pope Leo XIV has described as “the ordinary path to conversion for those who wish to follow Christ with an undivided heart” [46]. On this year’s feast of St. Francis, Pope Leo published his first Apostolic Exhortation Dilexi te, continuing a document started by the late Pope Francis on the burning heart of the Church’s mission: love for the poor.
“Offerings, when born of love, not only alleviate the needs of one’s brother or sister, but also purify the heart of the giver, if he or she is willing to change” [46].
Phil’s small gesture of love helped me see inside my own heart and come to terms with the bitterness that was inside. Phil recognized that “the dignity of every human person must be respected today, not tomorrow” [92]. Like a good Franciscan, Phil was open to change and ready to respond to the needs of the poor right in front of him.
St. Francis writes in his Testament that, when he was in sin, he hated lepers. But God led Francis among the lepers, and his bitterness turned to sweetness. Leo says that “in the person of a leper, Christ himself embraced Francis and changed his life” [6]. The poor have the ability to change our lives today too, if only we allow them. We need to risk being touched by the poor because “contact with those who are lowly and powerless is a fundamental way of encountering the Lord of history” [5].
If Scripture and tradition are so clear about the poor’s place in God’s kingdom, Pope Leo wonders “why many people continue to think that they can safely disregard the poor” [23]. Being in the United States—a nation some will claim is founded on “Christian values”—I wonder whether the poor truly have a preferred place here today?
Jesus’ Command: Serve the Poor
The United States is one of the wealthiest nations in the world, and yet this year we’ve slashed billions of dollars in foreign aid, closing soup kitchens and health clinics across the globe. If the United States will not lead the world in eradicating hunger, who will? One study estimates that such cuts could lead to the loss of 14 million lives by 2030.
We’ve become numb to the cry of these lives because we keep them at arm’s length, as if they’re none of our concern, a figure in a headline. But Pope Leo demonstrates that wealthier nations like ours have a responsibility to assist struggling nations with all their goods. We cannot remain “indifferent to countries suffering from hunger and extreme poverty” [83], because our mission is “a matter of hearing the cry of entire peoples, the poorest peoples of the earth” [91].
Our leaders seem unwilling to work together to respond to the needs of the poor. Political opponents are described as enemies of the people, and foreigners and the homeless are scapegoated as violent marauders invading our shores. The poor deserve leadership that is “capable of sincere and effective dialogue aimed at healing the deepest roots—and not simply the appearances—of the evils in our world” [92]. Christians are called to serve everyone in need, even foreigners, strangers, or people we don’t yet understand, because “anyone in need, even an enemy, always deserves our assistance” [25].
In Dilexi te, Pope Leo poses an urgent challenge for Christians in the US and around the world: “Either we regain our moral and spiritual dignity or we fall into a cesspool” [95]. Pope Leo calls Christians to turn their hearts toward the poor. We must remove the bitterness we have in our hearts for the marginalized, the migrant, the outcast, to make room for their suffering and struggles. We have to risk embracing the poor or we risk losing Jesus.
Dilexi te calls the Church to go back and reread the Gospel because there are a few things we have forgotten. We may not solve every systemic issue that oppresses the poor overnight, but just like Phil and his offering of a small sandwich, we can change history through small acts of charity. We can’t afford to wait any longer. Let’s resolve to live the Gospel Jesus has called us to, so that we can be a Church that the world needs, “a Church that sets no limits to love, that knows no enemies to fight but only men and women to love” [120].