Jesus sat down opposite the treasury and observed how the crowd put money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow also came and put in two small coins worth a few cents. Mark 12:38-44
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. Some are
possessed and some are merely obsessed. Like bees to honey, an important
religious landmark, be it the Temple or a Cathedral, attracts a human circus.
They come to p-r-a-y and to p-r-e-y. Some come to make contact with God and
some come to make a few bucks by working the charity system.
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! I had to deal with a strange man who had
the urge to take off all his clothes to scare old ladies. I had to pull a drunk off the bishop’s throne. I had to wrestle a stalker to the floor who pulled
a knife on me over a homily. I mistakenly called the cops on the archbishop. 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 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. When I used to go to
parishes to ask for funding for the home missions, I soon found out that I came
home with more money when I went to “poor” parishes than when I went to the so
called “wealthy” parishes.
In our first reading, the widow of
Zarephath, who risked being generous when she herself was close to starvation,
is also one of my Biblical heroes. The widow-woman, down to her last handful of
meal and a few drops of oil, had to choose between feeding herself and her son
or offering hospitality to a traveling holy man. Ignoring her own needs, she
chose to be generous. She took that handful of meal and those few drops of oil
and made a small cake and gave it to a stranger. For her radical generosity, God
rewarded her with bread that never ran out the whole next year.
The 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.” That's what she wrote, but that is what many women have taught me over my lifetime!
