Charity and Poverty

"Nevertheless, among churchmen, beyond their rites and ceremonies, luxury is a crime. It seems to disclose habits which are not truly charitable. A wealthy priest is a contradiction. He ought to keep himself near the poor. But, who can be in contact continually, by night as well as day, with all distresses, all misfortunes, all privations, without taking upon himself a little of that holy poverty, like the dust of a journey? Can you imagine a man near a fire who does not feel warm? Can you imagine a labourer working constantly at a furnace, who has not a hair burned, nor a nail blackened, nor a drop of sweat, nor a speck of ashes on his face? The first proof of charity in a priest, and especially a bishop, is poverty. "

- Victor Hugo (Les Miserables)

Who can be in contact continually with all distresses, without taking a little of that holy poverty? I was reading this tonight when I felt pretty damn convicted. If the proof of charity is poverty, and a man can't be near a fire without being warm, then what the hell am I doing here at Azusa? What am I doing living in a suburban home in Phoenix with my own car, and never needing anything?
I'm not feeling the urge to go out and sell all my things. I wish I was feeling that sort of motivation right now, but I'm not. I just don't understand how I can presume to care about these people who have nothing, while I live immersed in comfort.
I look forward to South Africa because I can get out. All my possessions will be 45 lbs. plus a personal item that will be books and a laptop. I only have 8 shirts. Hopefully I will be so affected by this experience I will be released from some of these materialistic desires I find myself so tightly bound to. And maybe, if I'm lucky, some of these things I learn will actually stick with me for more than a couple of weeks after I get back.

Last summer, when I spent a week in a cheap imitation of homelessness on the streets of San Diego, I felt the effects for a month after. I was warmed by the fires of poverty, with my hairs burnt, my nails blackened, sweating and ash-covered. And my hibernation in North Phoenix helped me "recover" from this affliction. The affliction of wanting to help people who need help. But this time, I need to be aware. I want to return and feel moved enough to be inconvenienced by these people.
I want to get rid of this materialism, but it's genetic. It's more than genetic, it's cultural. It's a scourge that plagues Western civilization. It corrupts all of mankind. So how do I free myself from it?
I don't have an answer for you. How do you live in poverty? Live in poverty. Desire will come, and appreciation will come, but the step has to be taken first. So here I go. Living in poverty to live in charity. Living without the things I have come to rely on, so I can live without these things I have come to rely on. And maybe, when I get back, I'll be willing to take some major steps to cut these ropes that moor me to the dock of consumeristic culture that affects me along with everyone else in America. I need to get away from this place for a while.