Of late, the issue of poverty has filtered into the arena of public discussion and is featuring in the ongoing debate on the state of the economy. In the course of this debate, which is still ongoing, much has been said about issues of social justice and equity. Although this important aspect of the debate has much to do with moral principles, the voice of the Church, or of authoritative sources within it, has been conspicuous by its absence.

Is this indicative of a deplorable absence of qualified spokesmen in Church quarters? Does it reflect indifference or insensitivity about the plight of the condition of the poor and the weak? These and related questions need to be addressed.

The basic question is about the urgent need of a theology of economics. Theologians have considered economic realities elsewhere. The distinguished German thinker Heinrich Pesch (l854-l926) and John A, Ryan of the United States (l869-l945) and a number of Papal encyclicals have left milestones along the tortuous route that separates greed from social poverty.

It is a route that many Churchmen seem to avoid. Yet, they need clear and critical concepts about such realities as scarcity, work, money, capital accumulation, production, distribution, inequality, division of labour, technology and so on.

What do such topics mean for religion and what does religion mean for them?

Theologians ought to be in a position to understand and evaluate systems of political economy. There have been many such in human history, ranging from the feudal system, based on grants of land to the nobility, to mercantilist systems, to several forms of socialism, to the capitalist system.

An extended literature exists on the theology of socialism, as old as early models of religious socialism and as new as liberation theology in Latin America.

There is precious little, and virtually nothing, on the theology of democratic capitalism.

Trained theologians should also be in a position to assess institutions, practices and special ethical dilemmas that occur within particular systems. For example, big business set-ups that may command a market need to be studied in empirical detail and measured by moral standards. So do state bureaucracies. So do the big, fat quangos.

Even if it does nothing more than to offer critical clarification and to debunk ideological uses of religious language, a theology of economics serves a high purpose.

Discernment is, in a sense, a spiritual art... It is also a manifestation of clear thinking. But, to think theologically about economics is, first of all, to learn economics. There is hardly any evidence that there is any yearning for such knowledge in Maltese Church circles. It is the laity that leads the way. It should be the other way round. Notoriously, the Church has little to say in Malta about markets and incentives, the ethics of production and the disciplines and organisation necessary for the creation of wealth. It seems to take the production of wealth for granted, as if wealth were as static as in mediaeval times, and tends to preoccupy itself with appeals for redistribution.

It is useless to demand jobs without comprehending how jobs are created and to desire ends without critical knowledge about means.

To speak blandly about the desire of economic revival, without denouncing social injustice, deprives one of authority

Good intentions in this sphere would be more realistically honoured if supported by evidence of diligent intelligence in economics. That evidence is lacking.

The Budget debate offers a good many opportunities for Church spokesmen to shed light where there is darkness and this without wading in the polluted waters of political partisanship.

What I am writing about is not partisan politics but about moral leadership... and responsibility.

It is right and proper for the Church to throw its moral weight against abuse and injustice from any quarter. But it would have been just as equitable if the Church pronounced itself on the moral iniquity of victimising the poor and the needy by indiscriminately raising the price of energy, for example. At what point is the Church ready to denounce the avarice of the state leviathan? (Why haven't the Church and its spokesmen been as vocal on this issue as they have been on the problems of refugees?)

Equally, the Church would have been of service if it led the way and spoke in advocacy of the moral duty of all citizens to play their full part, according to their means, in order to sustain the nation's finances, particularly in these difficult times. Equally, it should have been forthright in its insistence that, in the prevailing atmosphere of austerity, the government should have led by example and should, moreover, have first sought to tax ostentatious living before making further encroachments on low incomes.

In the prevailing situation, when economic stringency is called for, isn't there a case for conscientious voices to be raised against government profligacy which bears on unnecessary taxation that crushes the poor?

The Catholic Church at large has an honourable tradition in defending the rights of workers threatened by exploitation and capitalist greed. It is not so militant when it comes to standing up to state capitalism and authoritarianism, and, in particular, against corruption and bureaucratic abuse at the expense of defenseless citizens. That tradition is not honoured with consistent enthusiasm everywhere. There are times when, in Malta, it is lamentably mute.

jgv@onvol.net