Holy Poverty

St. Francis of Assisi has always been my favourite saint. Sure, I flirt, devotionally speaking, with your Thereses and Gianna Mollas, but St. Francis always calls me back to him. Maybe it's because I'm nothing like him!

I say this because I keep thinking about holy poverty and family life. It is so tempting to amass so much stuff, in the name of improving our family: every little appliance to "simplify" life, endless wicker baskets to organize (I do get weak in the knees at Wicker Emporium. I'm a sucker!), more hangers, a better broom -- these all seem like worthy purchases, no? They're simply for the upkeep of our home!

And then, CDs to help make sure Noah is exposed to good music, books to make sure Patrick and I don't lose our liberal-artsy roots, despite careers and family life taking us away from full-time study, and of course, (cough) clothing. I flatter myself when I think of St. Francis de Sales' admonitions to be presentable, and find myself justifying my clothing "needs" because of it! Besides, being three completely different body types since we were married only a year ago means a gal needs a lot of clothes fast!

Then I think about my dear St. Francis, and how much I love him, and how he would look into our home, and ask me, "With all this stuff, have you left room enough for God?"

"A good home must be made, not bought." John Maynard

I don't know what this means, these quiet tugging feelings at my heart. I know that less is more, but how much less?

* * * *

My husband gave a rather stirring conference paper this past year at our little beloved Christian Reformed college (Noah's first home). It was about the Gospel call to poverty, and how this evangelical counsel is actually a universal call. He had been reading Happy are You Poor by Father Thomas Dubay (a wonderful, wonderful read by a truly holy priest) and it inspired him to write about this for the university's conference.

Since then, the subject has come up numerous times between the two of us. It's almost become a family joke when I name almost anything that I would like, he either says, "I bet we could make that" or "do we really need that?" Yet both of us know deep down that God is asking for more than mere talk, or reading on the subject.

I don't know where to begin, though. I do know I need to start being more prayerful in my aquisition of stuff. I once read that John Paul II said that every purchase has a moral element -- we support the means of labour, the type of materials that went into the product, and the product itself.

If I am actually committing a moral (or immoral) act every time I buy something, I owe it to God and myself to think more conscientiously about what I buy.

This isn't a rant about de-cluttering, although that ties in. Instead I am thinking, fracturedly, about poverty.

Thoughts?