The closest thing today to the Temple in Jerusalem of Jesus’ day - at least in my experience - is a downtown cathedral. Just as the Temple in Jerusalem attracted a host of characters at the time of Jesus, most downtown cathedrals today attract a cross-section of humanity: millionaires and street people, tourists and residents, the non-religious, the marginally religious and religious fanatics. Like bees to honey, an important religious landmark, be it the Temple or a Cathedral, attracts a human circus.
For 14 years, from 1983-1997, I had the privilege of being the pastor of the Cathedral of the Assumption in Louisville. From confessions that would curl your hair, to mental cases that would work your nerves, it was, by far, the most interesting pastoral assignment I have ever had, bar none! On my first day, I had to deal with a homeless man who had the urge to take off all his clothes to scare old ladies. I had to pull a drunk out of the bishop’s throne. I had to help wrestle a stalker to the floor who pulled a knife on me over a homily. I mistakenly called the cops on the archbishop, thinking he was an intruder! I have had a man drop dead during a wedding, babies pee on me during baptisms and altar servers vomit on me during Mass. I had to drag a screaming woman from the altar steps to the back door through a wide-eyed congregation, too frozen to move. I was regularly panhandled and manhandled.
In my 14 years, I probably met at our Cathedral most of the types that Jesus met in the Jerusalem Temple, including the poor “widow woman” of today’s gospel. This woman taught me a very important lesson about priesthood.
I was running late for the noon mass. I was going to the back of the Cathedral for something when I was confronted by a “bag lady” coming at me, with both arms waving to get my attention. I was used to it, so used to it, that I thought I “had seen it all” when it came to “street people.” As soon as I spotted her, I just assumed that she wanted money. I had been down that road so many, many times. Before I could get my well-rehearsed “come back later” or “go see our social worker” speech out, she asked excitedly, “Father, where is the poor box? I want to make a donation!” At that she opened her dirty hand and there she clutched her gift of a few nickels and pennies for the “poor box.” I had stereotyped and judged her by her appearance. Her generous “widow’s mite” judged me!
This modern-day version of the
“widow and her mite” taught this priest several lessons. (1) You never know
what is going on inside the people, merely through external observation, so
always “take off your shoes” and approach them as you would “holy ground.”
There is nothing as dangerous as a judgmental, “know it all” priest, be he a young
priest or an old priest. (2) As Jesus taught the Pharisees, some of the people
may have the appearance of saints, but inside are like whitewashed tombs, while
some of those who appear to you to be terrible sinners may just turn out to be
living saints. “Do not judge, lest you be judged.” (3) Generosity has very
little to do with the size of the gift. Many big givers give once in a while
from their surplus and blow a horn when they make their gifts, but the ones who
really keep parishes going are the many consistent little gifts from people who
have to sacrifice to give.
The poor woman today has an important lesson to teach us and that is: generosity is always rewarded, and often extravagantly! As Anne Frank, the young Jewish girl from Holland who was forced to live for two years in a secret attic by the Nazis, being caught and ending up dying in a prison camp, wrote during World War II, “No one has ever become poor by giving.” Selfless generosity is what many women, including my dear mother, have taught me over my lifetime!
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