XXXII Sunday Ordinary Time, Cycle B

1Kgs 17:10-16
Ps 146:7,8-9,9-10
Heb 9:24-28
Mk 12:38-44


When I hear these passages about the destitute widows, I struggle.  I struggle with the idea that it seems like God likes to kick people when they are down.  The first reading speaks of the story of the widow and Elijah.  When this story was told to me in Sunday school, I was found it amazing of that there was this jar of flour that never ran out.  [When I got back home from Sunday school, I was disappointed to find that my jar of cookies does run out.]  What one must understand is that this widow and the widows in that time period were not only without a husband, they were beyond destitute and poverty did not even begin to describe their situation.  Without having any marketable skills, nor able to hold property or any sort of job that could sustain her and her son, she basically had nothing. And here comes the great prophet Elijah, a refugee running from a king that is trying to kill him.  Of all the people he could ask for help, he finds a widow about to have her last meal and demands that she give him some food.  It would seem that if this did not provoke an angry or violent reaction from the widow, nothing would.  This was literally the last straw for her.  But she simply makes him aware of the situation and does not hold back her charity or hospitality.  She is resigned to the idea that she will eventually die, whether there is a final meal or not...that’s that.

The same thing with the widow’s might in Mark’s Gospel: she puts her two small coins, pretty much all that she has in the treasury.  She is probably also resigned to dying soon.  The modern person would try to find some other investment: a lottery ticket or some other way to get rich quick and get out of this abject poverty.  The modern ideology is: if you don’t fight for yourself, no one will.  Practicality and pragmatism is the order of the day.  The widow would have done better to invest in some way – at least there would be a return.  But no, she drops it in the treasury [I always imagine it to be like a votive candle].  And resigns herself to whatever the future had in store for her.  What these two widows are emphasizing in their actions is the radical call to discipleship through acts of love and charity – not from excess and unwanted, but from what is the very heart of their existence and essence.

When we hear the critiques Jesus makes about the corrupt Scribes and other corrupt authorities, I cannot help but drift towards making associations with our hierarchy and clergy.  And no, just to be clear I am not making a reference to our bishop, the Holy Father or any other clergymen.  There’s a clear difference now: that our priests take on vows of obedience, chastity and a life of simplicity or poverty in some cases.  In the Old Testament, the sacrifice of animals on the Day of Atonement or any sacrifice for that matter used the blood of these animals to appease and make reparations to God: …the high priest enters each year into the sanctuary with blood that is not his own. That is to say these authorities of old did not sacrifice themselves per se, but offered the blood of animals not their own.  When one offers themselves, others see the authenticity and the genuineness of their actions.  I take on the office of the priesthood, and I hope you all will keep me accountable, by offering myself for you.  When problems run amok it is because folks are spending and sacrificing things that have no value to them.  A sacrifice that doesn’t hurt isn’t much of a sacrifice.  But after Jesus’ passion and death, He introduced the un-bloody sacrifice through the sacrifice of His body and blood.  Every time a priest after the time of Christ offers sacrifice, the priest is reminded and recalls that he is not entering the sanctuary with some other random animals’ blood, but rather he is entering into the person of Jesus Christ and offering himself with and as Christ on the altar.  Every priest that realizes he is offering our Lord Jesus Christ through Him, with Him, and in Him – makes a profound realization of his own finite mortality and unworthiness before God.  Every priest that realizes what an intimate connection he has to Christ, should feel an obligation to change –to be transformed and repent of their sinful lives and return to the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Therefore the role of the priest, like the widows in our story, exemplify the fact of giving not for the sake of giving, but giving in such a way that expresses the personal nature of the sacrifice and offering: a gift that “hurts”, as it were, to show how significant, how important, and how necessary it is to offer it.

What does this all mean for us?  How are we going to be able to match this kind of faith these widows had?  And how are we going to enter into the celebration of the Mass with a priest?  As all of you catechumens will be journeying to Christ with us, I want to invite you to take the widow and the priests for your examples.  The widows are an example of how to offer their complete self in total trust and faith that our Lord will provide for them; that we are to give and to give and to give until it hurts and then give some more.  Until our lives are completely emptied out, we will always be cheating Christ of His desire to dwell in us.  As you look to the high priest in the second reading, recall that a priest’s gift and offering involves a sacrifice of self through his personal vows and promises, witness to the Gospel message, and finally a spiritual offering of self in the liturgy and the other sacraments.

How do we proceed? 1.) You must realize that you will never have that kind of faith without first building up the habit of trusting in God with your complete selves so that when the time comes and you are called to it, you can do it in truth faith and dependence on God.  This begins with a daily practice of denying yourself in the little things and realizing what needs to be removed from your lifestyle.  2.)  One must also know that “the habit of trusting in God” presupposes that you actually have a personal relationship with God – that you come here on Sunday not because it is a precept of the Church and a mortal sin not to, but because your gratitude and love for Him obliges you to do so.  From the outside looking inwards, I don’t see God kicking those who are down. I see two beautiful widows fulfilling their vocation of trust and charity with their very lives, rejecting the cotemporary understanding of success and bringing ones’ complete self in union with Christ on the Cross, united in His suffering which was and is unlike any other.