Being a Canadian in the dead of Canadian winter always affords some marvelling at the precariousness of our survival in this unforgiving climate.

It is not a stretch to imagine that our life of faith would change dramatically if we weren’t so comfortable. What if we were to lose our electricity for weeks at a time (especially in the deep of Canadian winter), for example? Or, what if we were not able to rely on organized law enforcement? Or what about going without access to dental care with an abscessed tooth?

What some philosophers have called the “thin veneer of civility” would quickly disappear and the unveiling of our own vulnerability and powerlessness would nearly paralyze us. 

Of the many privileges North Americans have, perhaps the greatest privilege, is that God allows us to believe in our own self-sufficiency. This is either God’s mercy or it is the very opposite; a stumbling block that succeeds in keeping us from an authentic life of faith.

In a recent homily, Pope Francis spoke of the wisemen who set out in faith to meet the Christ child. “Where were the others?”, the Holy Father questioned. Surely others saw the star? Or surely the wisemen spoke to others about the reason for their quest? Could it be that the others were just too comfortable to meet the Lord? Or maybe they didn’t even notice the star because they weren’t tuned in?

“Perhaps because few people raised their eyes to heaven. We often make do with looking at the ground: it’s enough to have our health, a little money, and a bit of entertainment,” Pope Francis said. “ I wonder if we still know how to look up at the sky. Do we know how to dream, to long for God, to expect the newness he brings, or do we let ourselves be swept along by life, like dry branches before the wind? The Magi were not content with just getting by, with keeping afloat. They understood that to truly live, we need a lofty goal and we need to keep looking up.”

Dorothy Day, the foundress of the Catholic Worker Movement, said that sometimes one’s “biggest mistake” is playing it safe. In so doing, she said, we risk becoming “moral failures.” She added that we must think and talk about poverty often because “people insulated by their own comfort lose sight of it.” The call to Christianity is a call to real life: a call to be present to the struggles of others.

When someone discerns to enter religious life, part of their vocation includes a vow of poverty. Many people outside of Catholicism do not understand the significance (or even the point) of these vows. At first glance, the evangelical counsels (poverty, chastity, and obedience) appear cruel if not masochistic. But in fact, most faithful religious would say that these vows are liberating.

The vow of poverty is particularly poignant in this case because it removes any of the trappings that can muddle up one’s connection and experience of God in the daily substance of one’s physical life. If we put on the same thing everyday, that is head-space that God gains for the poor. If someone else decides what we eat for breakfast, that is more room in the soul for God and less room for greed and gluttony.

It is God after all, who gives us our daily bread. Whether we toast said bread on our own or someone else does it, God feeds the mouths he created from the earth he gifted to us.

Even if we are not living the religious vocation, there is plenty of room for meeting the poor in each state in life. Opportunities abound for us to share our lives in a tangible way with the poor. First of all, we need to consider who among us is poor. A young person poised to make big decisions without the support or love of an adult in their lives; a child looking for someone to stop and listen to a story that they deem important; a young mother drowning in laundry and dirty dishes. These are just some of the poor among us. Once we’ve served them, we can take to the streets in search of more poverty. But, for the time being, we need not look far.

As the Christian journeys toward God, it becomes blindingly apparent that autonomy or self-sufficiency is an illusion and that its quest will never lead to fulfillment. There will be no end to the journey as it does not lead to Christ. It is only in Christ that we will find the meaning and mission for our lives. We were made to seek him and to find him.