Some could consider Jesus’ attitude a bit rude: to sit and watch others making their donations and – even worse – commenting on them. I guess that’s why we use collection bags rather than plates or baskets so that individual donations remain private. On the other hand, there’s no shortage of people in the world who draw a lot of satisfaction from flashing their wealth. The latter isn’t a new phenomenon; in Jesus’ time, many people associated wealth with God’s blessing as a reward for a just and righteous life. So, imagine that Jesus is sitting here and is watching our community; what would he see?
We’ll come back to that question later because it requires a bit more consideration to get the answer right. For that, we need to look more closely at today’s biblical readings. Their common factor and the main character is a widow; actually, these are two individuals separated by time and space but each represents the same idea of a powerless and poor person, struggling to get by. In a patriarchal society with no social care, becoming a widow often meant that the quality of life plummeted. The widow from the first reading presented her desperate situation in a rather dramatic manner: ‘I have no baked bread, but only a handful of meal in a jar and a little oil in a jug; I am just gathering a stick or two to go and prepare this for myself and my son to eat, and then we shall die.’ In that context, it’s quite astonishing to know that the prophet Elijah requested her help, following God’s order: ‘I have directed a widow there to supply you with food.’ (1 Kings 17:9) Surely there were people there with more resources to feed another mouth than a widow on the brink of starvation! Well, what was requested of her was faith in God’s promises: ‘Jar of meal shall not be spent, a jug of oil shall not be emptied, before the day when the Lord sends rain on the face of the earth.’ Her faith was tested in this way: ‘first, make a little scone of it for me and bring it to me, and then make some for yourself and for your son.’ There would be a period of time between acting out of faith and seeing the fulfilment of God’s promise. In the end, it was the widow and her son who were saved from death; had she rejected the prophet she would have had her last meal and then starved to death. But because she listened to and acted upon Elijah’s promise ‘the jar of meal was not spent nor the jug of oil emptied, just as the Lord had foretold.’ Note that there wasn’t an overabundance of meal and oil; the widow didn’t suddenly become rich. It was just enough to feed the three of them.
The situation of the widow in the gospel was probably less dramatic, though based on the context of the story we can be certain she was poor. Visitors and pilgrims to the Temple in Jerusalem made donations for its upkeep by putting money into trumpet-shaped receptacles. Large donations, made of many coins reverberated loudly in the court. Yet Jesus’ attention was drawn by an almost inaudible donation of two small coins; the donation made by a poor widow. Unlike the Temple authorities, Jesus was full of admiration for her sacrifice; so much so that ‘he called his disciples and said to them, ‘I tell you solemnly, this poor widow has put more in than all who have contributed to the treasury.’’ I guess they looked at the widow with incredulity, so Jesus explained: ‘they have all put in money they had over, but she from the little she had has put in everything she possessed, all she had to live on.’ Similar to the widow from the first reading, her contribution to the Temple’s upkeep put her at risk. And yet, she took that risk but – unlike the first reading – we don’t know what her fate was afterwards.
So, let’s go back to the uneasy earlier question: imagine that Jesus is sitting here and is watching our community; what would he see? It is very tempting to tell you that – based on those two stories – you should give more money to the parish or – even better – to me. But I’m not going to exemplify today’s gospel’s characterisation of religious hypocrites: ‘Beware of the scribes who like to walk about in long robes, to be greeted obsequiously in the market squares, to take the front seats in the synagogues and the places of honour at banquets; these are the men who swallow the property of widows while making a show of lengthy prayers.’ The warning of the consequences of such an attitude is clear enough: ‘The more severe will be the sentence they receive.’ So, my interpretation must follow a different route.
Jesus praised the widow for her contribution to the upkeep of the Temple; so, He considered that an important thing. In the New Covenant, made in the blood of Christ, we are the temple of God: ‘like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house […] to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.’ (1 Peter 2:5) This community of faith is as strong as our individual contribution towards its upkeep, but I’m not talking about money. Although it’s an important factor to pay the bills and keep the building safe and sound, the community is built up by individual contributions of your time, skills and talents. There are great volunteers in our community whose contributions are impossible to overrate. Some of them serve us in a visible way, like ushers, readers or altar servers. But most of them remain hidden and we only realise how much they contribute when they stop. How do we get the church clean? How do we get the flowers arranged? And then we have those looking after the building or finances; those who support people in need in a wider local community and those who prepare children for the sacraments. This list can be very long indeed. We all owe them our gratitude. But there’s a worrying trend that the bench of volunteers is quite short. Quite often these are the same people who take up multiple roles while many of us are happy to take advantage of that. Today each one of us should ask him- or herself how we can build up our community of faith; what can I offer? Everyone has something worth making into a wee sacrifice: time, skills, talents. It can be money, but it can be your suffering and prayer offered for others. We can be an even more beautiful and vibrant community; you have the power to make this happen.
Image by Michal Jarmoluk from Pixabay