There he is – the new old president of the USA. When the results of the election became clear, his supporters were incredibly happy. Reports on the news showed ecstatic people, waving their arms, flags or banners, and shouting in joyful celebration. On the other side, supporters of the candidate who lost were shown crying, shocked or disappointed. It was interesting to see people so emotionally involved in political campaigns. A day later, victorious euphoria was replaced by cold analysis of the economic and social situation of the USA. And it’s all but euphoric. Their national deficit is $16 trillion; or statistically one citizen’s share is $51,000. And we know perfectly well that ‘deficit’ is the word describing the economic situation all over the world, our country included.
Somehow the scale of national debt lives alongside us; it looks like the domain of discussions for politicians and journalists. Most of us don’t give any particular attention to these matters as they seemingly don’t affect our lives. It all changes when it comes to our own bank accounts, credit cards or payslips. Quite often this word ‘deficit’ becomes much too familiar. Making ends meet is a constant struggle for many people and their families. They have to find their own ways of paying-off their deficit, or at least of keeping it at bay. Sometimes we look enviously at those apparently better-off than us, not realising that their higher standard of living is founded on a bigger balance available on their credit cards.
The financial shambles we live in seems to be the primary definition of the word ‘deficit’. But many of us experience a similarly painful deficit of human attention. We find ourselves left on our own by our children living their own lives, and sometimes we feel abandoned by other members of the family or friends. We are social animals, and we desperately need the active presence of others around us to enjoy life. Sometimes that desperation leads us to strange behaviours or decisions; quite often a telly turned-on round the clock fills in that painfully draining emptiness.
There is another deficit growing bigger and bigger in our society. In today’s gospel Jesus is watching people putting money into the treasury at the Jerusalem temple. Among many contributors Jesus spots one poor woman; her donation is worthless in comparison to those made by the better-off. In fact, her sacrifice is much greater; as the richer give from their surplus, she offers her living. It’s not about money. It’s all about trust. She doesn’t give God scraps of her life, but she gives her life itself. In our apparently increasingly irreligious society and emptying churches loads of people retain some kind of religious belief, although detached from spirituality and morality, limited to traditional or superstitious elements. Prayer goes as the least important activity. Chasing elusive dreams, fighting needless battles and stupefied by worthless media noise, we lose the perspective and distance necessary to get things right.
In the first reading, the prophet Elijah makes a promise in the name of God. But to see the promise fulfilled, the widow has to make a leap of faith: she must sacrifice the only food she has left; the most precious thing in her life. She can refuse the promise, feed her son and herself, and then die of starvation. Or she can take the risk to follow God’s promise and survive. For you, what’s the most precious thing to which you give your time? Could you take the risk to give it up and, instead, give that time to God? He doesn’t expect much from you: He expects everything! In return He will give you everything, along with the freedom to use it.