The widow's mite

[ncjohn]

I actually posted some reflections on this topic once before, but couldn’t find them so I decided to restart.

Today’s gospel reading has the familiar story of the widow’s mite, Jesus’s statement that the widow gave more in her “small” contribution from her poverty than did all of those who gave from their surplus.

It got me to thinking what that really means. I think most of us are conditioned to give from our surplus, out of habit. We decide on a comfortable level and just do what we’ve decided, whether it’s in contributions of money, time, or our very being.

But what does it mean to give from our poverty? Obviously most of us can’t give away what we actually would need to continue to live, except in very unusual circumstances. It occured to me that this is really something much more pervasive and integral to our lives and beings. I’m thinking that giving from our poverty is when we set aside those things our ego would rather be doing to do God’s work instead.

That can take many forms. It might mean setting aside time for prayer instead of watching our favorite TV show, or even instead of something “seeming” good like reading a good book. It might mean dropping your plans for the movies to go help a neighbor instead with whatever their “need” is. It might mean letting someone else have the better seat or parking place. It might mean spending those extra minutes listening when someone just needs to vent, or needs to express their hurt, even when maybe we’re hurting ourselves.

But maybe at an even deeper level, it might mean being willing to take the pain ourselves when it isn’t even our pain. It might mean just accepting the insult rather than correcting the person who is just lashing out in their own pain. It might be standing up for someone on the fringe when the more comfortable position would be to just keep on walking. It might be following Francis’s example to conciously embrace whoever the “leper” is for us. It might just mean being willing to take the assault rather than creating more violence by defending ourselves, even righteously.

In short, it might mean being willing to hang on the cross and say “forgive them for they know not what they do.”

Father, help us to be willing and eager to give from our poverty that we might find you in whichever of your disguises you appear today.

 

[Joysong]

But maybe at an even deeper level, it might mean being willing to take the pain ourselves when it isn’t even our pain. It might mean just accepting the insult rather than correcting the person who is just lashing out in their own pain. It might be standing up for someone on the fringe when the more comfortable position would be to just keep on walking. It might be following Francis’s example to conciously embrace whoever the “leper” is for us. It might just mean being willing to take the assault rather than creating more violence by defending ourselves, even righteously

.

I have given my back to those who beat me, and my cheeks to those who plucked my beard; my face I did not shield from buffets and spitting.
Is. 50:6

I, it is I who comfort you. Can you then fear mortal man who is human only, to be looked upon as grass and forget the Lord? … But when He sets himself to destroy, what is there of the oppressor’s fury?
Is. 52:12

Just a thought in response to your profound post, John.

 

[InLight247]

Good reflection and concept of giving out of poverty, John.

In today’s first reading, the king wanted to train four bright, young Jewish men so they could better serve him. One incentive was food and wine from the royal table. But the four young men turned down the “unclean” Gentile food to eat only raw vegetables and water. They did that out of a selfless love of their God. They gave their love of God and their faith out of their poverty.

The concrete examples you mentioned here help us visualize in detail the spirit of charity and humility. It takes humility and obedience to

… set aside those things our ego would rather be doing to do God’s work instead.

It requires charity to

be following Francis’s example to consciously embrace whoever the “leper” is for us.

The spirit of charity and humility are both from the grace of God, that require our active cooperation to respond, and conscious efforts to realize. The bottom line of being able to give out of poverty is prayer.

 

[ncjohn]

The spirit of charity and humility are both from the grace of God, that require our active cooperation to respond, and conscious efforts to realize.

Exactly! It is only grace, coupled with our willingness to cooperate with it–also a gift of grace!–that can possibly allow us to give from our poverty.

The wisdom of the “wise” would never lead us to abandon all for a God that can’t be seen. It is only the childlike knowing in the heart that can lead one to childlike trust.

 

[InLight247]

It is only the childlike knowing in the heart that can lead one to childlike trust.

Yes.
I think of a Chinese saying, it goes like this:
“Following goodness as sailing along with the water.”
(I am trying my best for the translation. )
It means once we know what is good, once we understand what we ought to do, we immediately follow the goodness as a boat naturally floats with water in the same direction.
And yes, it takes God’s grace to know, to trust, and to follow the Goodness.

Thinking about my own brokenness, I can only give out of my poverty. I am not talking about money or finance. I am talking about the brokenness of my fallen human nature. Since all I have is poverty, if I don’t give out of it, what else can I give?

 

[chewchoo]

Thinking about my own brokenness, I can only give out of my poverty. I am not talking about money or finance. I am talking about the brokenness of my fallen human nature. Since all I have is poverty, if I don’t give out of it, what else can I give?

wow, very true
kinda like the poor in spirit beatitude, understanding your fallen nature and still trying to rise above it instead of thinking that you have it all figured out.

 

[mommyof4]

I read this reflection on another web site:

Today’s Gospel reading challenges us to examine how generously we help the ministries of the Church by contributing financially to the treasury of the Church. When our income isn’t enough to pay for everything that we wish we could buy for ourselves, let alone for the Church, the widow’s mighty sacrifice is not pleasing to look at. We naturally distrust the lesson that Jesus taught here.

And thus we cause others to suffer. Our parishes don’t have enough financial resources to do all the ministering they could do and should do. People who rely on the mercy of charitable organizations are victims of our fear of generosity.

The widow gave to God what she could not afford. She made an offering of her entire livelihood, sacrificing not only the coins but her very self. If a gift we give or a good deed we do is easy and comfortable, it’s not a sacrifice. Unwillingness to make a true sacrifice is the reason why charitable organizations (including Good News Ministries) cannot help all those who would benefit from their services. It’s the reason why parishes don’t have enough highly qualified staff to fulfill all the work that Christ has commanded them to do for the continuation of his mission.

Most of us donate from our surplus, and that’s simply not enough to cover the costs of ministry. When the collection basket comes around, we treat our wallets better than we do the people whom our money could serve. We preserve the bigger bills for something we might “need” later, only tossing in whatever extra dollars happen to be with us at the moment. We give from our surplus and think we’re making a sacrifice!

Jesus is not asking us to give away our entire livelihood. He’s seeking a loving heart that gladly makes sacrifices to benefit others. He wants our trust; he wants us to rely on his generosity and his ability to protect us from financial ruin when we care enough to disregard the cost of helping others.

What happened to the widow in the Gospel story after she went home? Did she starve? Is that why we’re afraid to be sacrificially generous? Wait a minute. Do we believe that God would praise her for making such a huge act of love and then crush her as if her good deed had been foolish?

Let’s put our faith into action. I know from personal experience how scary this can be and how faith-building it can be. Join me in making sacrificial trust in God our everyday faith experiences. Join me in giving more than we feel is “safe” to give. Instead of assuming that other folks will donate enough money to cover the bills of churches and charities and outreach ministries like Good News Ministries, join me in showing God that we really do love him and trust him.

gnm.org/index.shtml

 

[ncjohn]

A wonderful little prayer, from St. Ignatius, which I keep on the wall in front of my desk.

St. Ignatius’ Prayer for Generosity

Lord, teach me to be generous.
Teach me to serve you as you deserve;
to give and not to count the cost,
to fight and not to heed the wounds,
to toil and not to seek for rest,
to labor and not to ask for reward,
save that of knowing that I do your will.

Of course if everything we do is to serve God as He deserves, we will be in a state of total dependence on Him. For most of us, I think that the level where it becomes giving from our poverty comes when we no longer feel guilty that what we have given is sufficient–after giving it proper thought of course.