There’s Poor, and Then There’s Poor

I’ve been thinking a lot about poverty lately.

When I left my job last fall to stay at home and homeschool our children, we knew it would be difficult. Modern America isn’t friendly to a family of five trying to live on one modest income. That’s why, when I determined to read biographies with my children this year, I decided to begin with George Mueller, “A man who trusted God for everything,” as VeggieTales puts it. Because I knew we were going to have to trust God—a lot.

I’m not saying we’re poor, not really. When you look at poverty on a global scale, our little family is unbelievably rich. We have a home, means to heat and cool it, and no lack of food or clothing. We have things we don’t even need, like cell phones and Netflix. But again, Modern America. We live in a materialistic society, and aside from the normal struggles to make ends meet, it can be difficult to shrug off the need to keep up with those pesky Joneses. It’s difficult to shake off feelings of jealousy or pride when you see neighbors and friends with new cars, while you’re pouring gas into your carburetor and wondering where you’ll get the money for something that runs. In a thousand ways, our culture—Christian and secular alike, quite often—judges us according to our finances or lack thereof.

That’s why I’m thankful when God plants little lessons in our lives. Last night, when I was reading George MacDonald’s classic, The Princess and Curdie, with my oldest, I was stuck by this passage, when the old Princess is speaking to Curdie’s father.

"Yes," she went on, "you have got to thank me that you are so poor, Peter. I have seen to that, and it has done well for both you and me, my friend. Things come to the poor that can’t get in at the door of the rich. Their money somehow blocks it up. It is a great privilege to be poor, Peter – one that no man covets, and but a very few have sought to retain, but one that yet many have learned to prize. You must not mistake, however, and imagine it is a virtue; it is but a privilege, and one also that, like other privileges, may be terribly misused."

It struck me so much, I shared it on Facebook. It didn’t get many likes. But what I left out of that Facebook post was the next line—

“Had you been rich, my Peter, you would not have been so good as some rich men I know.” (Emphasis mine.)

Those words, written more than a century ago by the man C.S. Lewis regarded as his master, might seem enough of a lesson. However, some 12 hours later, I picked up our latest biography to read with my children, Milton Hershey: More than Chocolate, by Janet and Geoff Benge. In today’s chapter, Hershey’s words to his wife, Kitty, leaped off the page at me.

“Besides, I can’t see what happiness a rich man gets from continually acquiring things and not giving any of it away. After all, what’s the point of money unless you use it for the good of the community and humanity in general?”

Two years later, the Hersheys had an orphanage up and running near Hershey, Penn. It seems Milton Hershey may have been a good rich man, blessed with the burden of wealth rather than the privilege of poverty.

George Mueller had a vision to help the orphans of Bristol, but no money. Through prayer, God gave him the means to help thousands of children, though Mueller himself died virtually penniless.

Milton Hershey had money but didn’t want to die rich, and so sought out a way to use his millions for the good of those around him.

As I look at those two men, I see the privilege of poverty and the responsibility of wealth, both accepted in a certain poorness of spirit—which paradoxically is itself a kind of wealth. Because there is more than one kind of poverty.

If I go through a season of poverty or semi-poverty, I may not understand why. It may be a time of learning or refining. It’s all kinds of humbling to think it may be because I wouldn’t be as good as some rich women God knows.

Regardless, my prayer doesn’t become, “God, please make me rich,” or “God, please keep me poor.” Rather, I would pray to be “poor in spirit,” (Matt. 5:3) and learn the lesson St. Paul learned long before my time, or Milton Hershey’s time, or George Mueller’s time.

“Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” (Phil. 4:11-13, ESV).