Homily for the Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time

We have today a “Tale of Two Widows,” though, unlike the Dickens novel, our characters are real, historical figures: persons, not parables. We will find that, while their circumstances are similar, the lesson to be learned in each story is different:

+ The Widow of Zarephath teaches us about hospitality.

+ The widow at the Temple… about magnanimity.

Before we begin our study, though, let’s take a look at ancient widowhood. In those days, there was no such thing as Social Security, child care supplements, retirement benefits and the like; most widows were left pretty much on their own with, at best, a meager savings, but no real income to assist them.

It was the role of the Jewish community to care for her and her family, but her modest-income neighbors would often find her to be a bit of a burden, so their financial assistance would be limited. Widows would do their best at various means of earning an income, and would try to eke out a living however they could. With this in mind, we now look at our two Widows’ stories.

The Widow of Zarephath

Zarephath was near the city of Sidon, outside Jewish territory, so this lady would not be Jewish, but a Gentile, a pagan. So close to the end of her life because of her poverty, without even firewood to use in baking her last loaf of bread, she goes gathering sticks to act as firewood, and comes upon this stranger: the Prophet Elijah.

His approach to her is bold, “Please bring me a cup of water.” And as she turns to go get it, he asks for some bread, and, finally some cake. She doesn’t complain, as Saint Martha would later complain about the burden of hospitality, but she explains her dire circumstances, calling upon the stranger’s God to witness to the truth of her words.

Then Elijah gives the first indication that he is, indeed, a Man of God, by using the words that God and his messengers the angels always use when speaking of divine intervention to come: “Be not afraid.” Although she didn’t share Elijah’s faith, she shared his courage. His words convinced her of divine recompense for her sacrifice, and she left and did as Elijah requested, trusting in the new-found God as much as in the Prophet before her.

She was more in a position to receive than to give, but from her poverty she makes one further sacrifice, endangering herself and her son if the stranger’s words proved untrue. However, on facing starvation and death, her introduction to God brings a reversal of fortune, and a more profound gift than food for her larder: the very gift of life when all seemed lost and death was certain.

This is hospitality in its purest form: giving generously when you don’t have much. Hospitality as a virtue goes beyond entertaining, or welcoming people into our homes; it means welcoming people into our lives when we don’t much feel like entertaining.

It involves a certain openness, sensitivity, and responsiveness when called upon, especially when it might be inconvenient. Hospitality as virtue changes the way we look at others: We now see them as an opportunity to serve Christ in the person standing before us at any given moment, be they:

+ spouse

+ child

+ neighbor

+ parishioner

+ stranger… and more

Their poverty might not be visible, but can become apparent: Perhaps one needs:

+ some time

+ some attention

+ some patience

+ some empathy

+ someone to listen to their story.

Elijah will remind us to “Be not afraid” of what it might cost, for look at how our widow was repaid. Perhaps our repayment will not be so immediate, or so measurable; perhaps it will, instead, be Grace for the future.

Trusting in God to provide for others through our kindness, we can recall a few phrases from today’s Responsorial Psalm: “The Lord secures justice for the oppressed… He gives food to the hungry... the fatherless and the widow He sustains.”

The Widow’s Mite

There are two small details in this story that can be easily overlooked, but give us insight into both the Lord’s care for us, and how our response to this knowledge might play out in our lives.

The first comes in the opening statement: “[Jesus] sat down opposite the treasury, and observed…” Saint Mark doesn’t tell us why Jesus was at this particular spot at this particular moment, but his intention is to remind us that the Lord takes notice of us, and nothing escapes Him, even our simplest actions, thoughts and intentions.

We read in the Book of Proverbs: (Prv 5:21) “Indeed, the ways of each person are plain in the Lord’s sight; all their paths He surveys.” And in Psalm 139 (my favorite) “Lord, you have probed me, and you know me: you know when I sit and when I stand; you understand my thoughts from afar.” And... lest one find the Lord’s probing a bit frightening, the Psalmist assures us to react otherwise: “How precious to me are your designs, O God; how vast the sum of them! Probe me, God, know my heart; try me, know my concern…. Then lead me in the ancient paths.”

The widow’s offering seems modest, but, according to the Lord’s observation, her contribution is the most generous of all. Saint Thomas Aquinas explains: “Though the widow gave less, quantitatively speaking, she really gave more, considering her means, from which we infer a greater degree of charity on her part; and it is charity that gives any work of mercy its spiritual efficacy.”

The second small detail is the mention of the widow’s two coins. Not much to consider, except that she put both of them into the Collection. She gave everything she had. She could have put one coin in and kept the other for her lunch, but she completely depletes her purse, and counts on God to take care of her.

The Poor Widow’s gesture, contrasted with the donations of the wealthy around her, is an act of magnanimity. Magnanimity is part of the virtue of Fortitude, one of the Cardinal Virtues. It is courageous faith-in-action.

St. Thomas Aquinas links magnanimity with the Cardinal Virtue of Fortitude because, as he writes, “It is the virtue that ensures firmness in difficulties, and constancy in the pursuit of the good… it disposes one even to renounce and

sacrifice his life in defense of a good cause.”

According to the dictionary, to be a magnanimous person is “to show nobility of feeling, and generosity of mind… not subject to petty feelings.” If we are pursuing the good and choosing it in concrete situations, such as our Widow has done, then exercising the virtue of magnanimity will enable us to fight the inclination towards pettiness, stinginess, and smallness of character.

Even though this definition conjures up images of great tasks performed, St. Thomas Aquinas says that it can be exercised by performing ordinary acts with great feeling. St. Teresa of Calcutta would explain it 800 years later as “doing small things with great love.”

The word “magnanimous” comes from linking two Latin words:

+ magnus meaning “great” — and —

+ animus meaning “soul”

A magnanimous person is, therefore, a “great soul”

+ he is noble, gracious and dignified

+ she is, as Scripture says, “slow to anger and quick to forgive.”

Another word for a Christian who is a “great soul” is, of course, a Saint. The Saints are the great souls, the magnanimous ones, generous in every aspect of their being. Saints do not give with the mind of a miser, but, seeing God’s goodness, respond with the gift of who they are… and what they have. How easily we might say, with a chuckle, “Well, I’m no saint!” Yet if we do not become saints, we will not get into heaven.

The poor but saintly Widow in today’s Gospel raises a question for us, to consider for ourselves, with kindness in her voice: “In my lived faith, my relationship with God, do I trust Him to the point of fortitude, or do I just give Him the loose change of my life?” — and — “In my self-giving to God, and in my support of the ministry of the Church, will God know me as magnanimous, or petty?"

The Lord shows His admiration for the Widow at the Temple, recognizing that “She, from her poverty, has contributed all she had.” And Elijah the Prophet encourages us, as he did the Widow of Zarephath, saying, “Be not afraid.”

In the end, these two ladies teach us of the importance and centrality of generosity in living our faith. Hospitality toward others… and magnanimity with God are linked as responses to God’s goodness and to our trust in His Providence. One can never go wrong with generous self-giving, nor with sacrifices made for the good of God’s Church.