Detachment

In the Catholic spiritual tradition, there is a spiritual disposition that we call “detachment.” Detachment means a freedom from concern for amassing possessions, especially riches, as well as a lessening of attachments to anything that does not lead us toward God. It is the root of the evangelical poverty that people like St. Francis of Assisi and Mother Teresa lived. In fact, the Catechism teaches that “Detachment from riches – in the spirit of evangelical poverty – and self-abandonment to divine providence free us from anxiety about the future and prepare us for the blessedness of the ‘poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven’.”

So, when we hear Jesus say today, “Do not be afraid any longer, little flock, for your Father is pleased to give you the kingdom. Sell your belongings and give alms. Provide money bags for yourselves that do not wear out, an inexhaustible treasure in heaven that no thief can reach nor moth destroy. For where your treasure is, there also will your heart be,” He is calling us to this sense of detachment that is meant to bring us true joy.

This does not make sense in our world of consumerism and gathering of wealth. There are few who would say that giving away what they work hard for is a key to happiness. People might say, “Money can’t buy happiness? But it can buy a Disney vacation; and that makes me happy! So, there’s that!” Popular wisdom is that the one who dies with the most stuff “wins.” Of course, we know that is not true – we can’t take anything with us.

Jesus’ admonishment today is an invitation to let go of these passing things that can often bring us so much unhappiness. Clutching, clinging to possessions, ideologies, people, and whatever else we grasp almost always leads to bewilderment and a sense of aimlessness. Consider how we often self-soothe by just scrolling through Amazon, as if that “one thing” will bring a sense of peace, meaning, or at least comfort. At best, these are simply distractions.

Christ is call us to let go of all distraction – to focus ourselves on our true destiny. Like servants eagerly awaiting their master’s return. In fact, I hear that and I think about our pets (well, at least our dogs), who will wait in the window while we’re at work and then absolutely rejoice when we pull back up in front of the house. Dogs offer us a great lesson in detachment. They don’t care about anything but you and your time with them; they are “detached” from everything except what they consider their highest good – and that’s you!

This is what holy detachment looks like for us. When we let go of concerns for possessions, material wealth, concerns for this world’s goods, worries, and the like, we are not impoverished. Rather, we are made free.

Imagine the freedom that we hear about when Abraham heard the Lord’s call to get up and go, and he went – even though he had no idea what God had in store for him. Imagine the freedom of Saint Paul, who spoke boldly of his faith and for Christ, not worried about other’s opinions or reactions. He told the truth, and he was free. Imagine the freedom of the saints and martyrs who lost their lives defending their faith and speaking out for justice and right.

This is the freedom that detachment gives us. It offers courage to speak on behalf of those with no voice or agency, because we know we are following Christ with no strings attached. Even when times are hard and dark – like the night that Jesus talks about today – we are encouraged by the Word of the Lord which tells us that “Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen.”

Today, if we are experiencing that “night” – and many of our brothers and sisters are, even if we aren’t – we can look to the example of freedom that Jesus and the saints have shown. One of those saints (one of my favorites), St. Oscar Romero, offers this thought in line with our liturgy now:

Let us not forget, dear Catholics, that we are servants waiting for the Lord who is to come. Let no one forget this, not even those who feel they own the world because they have power in their hands. They also are servants of the Lord who is to come. This gospel concludes on a terrible note: those who have been given more, who have greater responsibilities, will be judged more severely. Those who received more, those who could have made the world happy with their wealth but instead lived selfishly, are like the servant who for a night felt he owned everything. Just as he was dreaming, so are they. The day will come when they will be awakened, and they will find themselves face to face with the Master of all things, with the Master of all peoples, with the Lord of history.

We have been entrusted with much, friends: many blessings, wealth, responsibilities. But we have also been entrusted with faith. Faith is the key to the holy detachment that we can practice to loosen this world’s hold on us and reach out to fully take the Hand of Jesus who wants to lead us into the joy of the Master’s banquet.