11 Nov 2018
“The people were all in tears
as they listened to the words of the law...”
--Nehemiah 8:9b
“As [Elijah] arrived at the entrance of the city
a widow was gathering sticks; he called
out to her: Please bring me a small
cupful of water...” –1 Kings 17: 10-16
“I tell you the truth, this poor widow
has put more into the offering box than all the
others. For they all gave out of their wealth.
But she, out of her poverty,
put in all that she had...”
--Mark 12:43-44
In my last post, I was contemplating the people and their tears (from Nehemiah). And this week, as I waited to go to confession, I was still thinking about that passage, about those people and their tears. But, standing in the line for confession, I found myself watching the Quinceanera families stage their pictures in the church and over by the baptismal font instead of contemplating my sins. So, I took out my Magnificat and tried to focus my thoughts on something other than the astonishing dresses and tuxedos and the abundance of bolo ties. Opening it, I turned to the Gospel for this Sunday and read the story of the widow’s mite. I have always liked this story; it has the
wonderful Cinderella appeal of an unknown impoverished woman suddenly coming to prominence; her tiny --almost meaningless-- offering singled
out for praise. See! See her; the one
with the two pennies. She is giving more
than all the rest. I think it appeals to
the inner child in me who still remembers a time when all I had were two
pennies and thought it was a lot (I loved gumball machines). And
it still speaks to me today when I worry that I have so little give. And I don’t
mean just money. When I look around and
see the other teachers at my school doing so many extra duties –coaching,
heading up clubs, going on field trips, I feel a pang of guilt, of inadequacy,
a sense of my own insufficiency, not measuring up.
And then I realized—that is often how I feel when I think of
“the Law.” I think about those regulations and restrictions and punishments and
feel a sense of dread and insufficiency. I am unable to meet that mark, to measure up
to those expectations. I am a
disappointment, to myself and to God (and possibly to my principal too, though
she hasn’t come out and said it). When I
look at the Law as a set of benchmarks that I need to meet to be considered “good,”
then I find myself wallowing in self-doubt and dread and fear. I dwell in the
certainty of my own failure; anxious about my next slip up –my next misstep or
moment of weakness; gossiping over coffee about a co-worker, whining about a
student on the way home in the car, hiding in the garage and eating all the
doughnuts –so my family won’t know... You know, just the ordinary stuff.
But in this story of the widow and her mite, we get a different
view; to some extent, we get a God’s eye view of living the Law. In the story from Mark, Jesus is watching the
people put their offerings into the treasury –something that is commanded by
the Law. As the crowd puts money in, Mark notes that some rich people put in large
amounts, but then comes this poor widow with her two small (almost worthless) coins.
And it is her that Jesus singles out as having put in “more than all the others.”
The rich people putting in their large sums are fulfilling
the letter of the law –even quite possibly giving more than is required. Metaphorically they are the expectations we
measure ourselves against; they are the human measure of success. Those large
donations of theirs will pay for a new science building or a new sports
stadium. They are the kinds of donations remembered with names engraved in
stone or up in lights...
And yet, Jesus reveals something about how God sees the Law
when He singles out the widow and the gift of her two pennies as worth more because
out of her poverty she contributed all she had.
From the human point of view it is very easy to look at the Law
as a game of numbers; boxes we check off for and against. Done this, done this, done this, not that... Good
Lord, I’ve never even imagined doing that! Oh my! Don that so many times I’ve
lost count... Tithed -check! DSF—check! Raffle
tickets –check! It’s all numbers—sums (both large and small).
But from God’s point of view it’s not about the numbers –not
about how many or how few laws we break, or keep; not about how well we measure
up to some cosmic or karmic or spiritual regulation –it’s not about perfect
attendance at mass or how much we put in the weekly envelope. Perhaps the Law of God really only asks one
thing—everything! That’s all. And
perhaps the value of our gift is measured not by how much we put in, but how
much we hold back.
From the outside, from the human side, the Law of God can look
ominous and daunting. There are 613 laws in the Old Testament cannon; 365 prohibitions
(thou shalt nots) and 248 positive commandments. And yes, one might weep at the thought of so
many laws, and so many opportunities to fail, and some of the people in that
story from Nehemiah may have wept out of fear or dread... but I wonder if –in that
crowd there in Jerusalem, listening to the Law—there wasn’t at least one poor
widow standing off by herself listening to the words of the Law, her face warm
with tears not of anguish, but of joy, because she understood exactly what the
Law meant. It meant that God loved her. For her the Law was simple –in fact, it
was everything.
