When the economy of the West collapses and we find ourselves amidst the ruins of a once-great society (and make no mistake about it, that day is coming), we will all be forced to face a reality which so many of us have chosen to ignore. And it is just this: that our only hope is in supernatural love. At the moment, there are still many across the length and breadth of this nation who seek solutions to economic problems and disparities from society. But socialism simply does not work. It was Archbishop Fulton John Sheen, in an essay entitled "Brotherhood," who made the following profound observation:
"It should be evident that the sharing of economic wealth will not make us brothers, but becoming brothers will make us share our economic wealth. The early Christians were not one because they pooled their wealth; they pooled their wealth because they were Christians. The rich young man went to Our Lord asking: 'What shall I do?' The Socialist asks: 'What will society do?' It is man who makes society and not society that makes man. That is why all the economic schemes from Marx's communism to the latest form of democratic collectivism will never unite men until they have first learned to burn, purge, and cut away their own selfishness.
The 'one world' will not come at the end of an ascending line of progress, but as the Resurrection from a tomb of a thousand crucified egotisms. The reason Christianity lives and Socialist theories perish is that Socialism makes no provision for getting rid of selfishness, but Our Lord did: 'Sell all whatever thou hast and give to the poor' (Luke 18: 22).
The only place in the world where communism works is in a convent, for there the basis of having everything in common is that no one wants anything. Communism has not worked in Moscow, but it does work in a monastery.
All that economic and political revolutions do is to shift booty and loot from one party's pocket to another. For that reason, none of them is really revolutionary; they all leave greed in the heart of man. The true inspiration for fellowship is not law but love. Law is negative: 'thou shalt not.' Love is positive: 'Love God and love neighbor.' Law is concerned with the minimum: 'Speed limit, 55 miles.' Love is concerned with the maximum: 'Be ye perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.'
Law is for moderation; love is generous: 'And if a man will contend with thee in judgment and take away thy coat, let go thy cloak also unto him. And whosoever will force thee one mile, go with him another two' (Matthew 5: 40-41).
Natural generosity is limited by circumstances and relations within our own circle and, outside of these, is often vindictive. Love ignores all limits, by forgiveness. 'Lord, how often shall my brother offend against me, and I forgive him? Till seven times?....I say not to thee, till seven times; but till seventy times seven times' (Matthew 18: 21-22). By moving from a little metaphor to a big one, Our Lord implies that precision in forgiveness is impossible. Leave it to love, and it is not likely to err on the lower side.
The love of which we speak is not natural, but supernatural. By faith and good works under God's grace, nourished by prayer and the Sacraments, we are led into intimate union with Christ - but this love we have toward Him must redound to all His creatures."
And so we can now understand why Pope John Paul II called Maximilian Kolbe a prophet pointing toward the Civilization of Love. The saintly friar, his body racked with pain brought on by tuberculosis, saw to all the spiritual needs of those who were, like him, dying a slow death in the death camp. He knew hunger as few ever will. But would give his small ration to others and would do without. In the end, he offered to take the place of a young man who had a wife and two children and who had been sentenced to death by starvation.
I'll say it again. When the economy of the West collapses, we will be forced to make a choice between supernatural love and a generosity which knows no limits and the greed and egotism which brought on the crisis to begin with.
The photograph above was taken during The Great Depression. It brings to mind the words which Cain spoke to God after he murdered his brother: "Am I my brother's keeper?"
Related meditation here.
