He looked up and saw rich people putting their gifts into the treasury; he also saw a poor widow put in two small copper coins. He said, "Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them; for all of them have contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in all she had to live on."Luke 21:1-4
She was a widow. And she was poor. In the scriptures, the two are often synonymous. Widows were bereft not only of their husbands but also of their primary means of support, unless they had children or other relatives able to care for them. There were rich widows, but they were rare. Poverty was the common lot of the woman left alone. Prudence would suggest that she conserve her resources. Neighbors would praise her for watching her pennies; relatives responsible for her would thank her; wisdom and custom would commend her. Yet here she is, bringing her last small coin to the Temple and casting it, unasked, among the offerings. Who would commend her for that bit of pious foolishness?
Jesus did. He saw something most bystanders would not: he saw that she saw something most bystanders could not. Ordinary folk, ruled by ordinary common sense, would look at the coin and see that it would not go far to feed and clothe her and keep a roof over her head. She looked at the coin and saw that God had given it to her to use for someone else’s good. Ordinary folk would look at her and see that she was in peril of perishing in her poverty. She looked at God and saw that divine providence would not abandon her. Ordinary folk would see that she had nothing. She saw that she had God. Ordinary folk would call her short-sighted. In terms of the reflection on short-sightedness in the previous posting, we might think of her as very far-sighted indeed.
Or so we might read her story. The gospel, in its usual maddening way, draws us into this tiny event by baiting it with unanswered questions: was she truly alone or did she have family? Why did she choose to give away her last coin? Did she know where the next one would come from? And why on God’s green earth did Jesus praise her? Surely he does not mean we should imitate her?
We can only wonder. Jesus left the scene without any explanation.
©2009, Abbey of St. Walburga
1 comments:
Dear Sister,
Several years ago, I picked up a Magnificat our parish priest had bought and placed a large pile of in the entry of our church. I was hooked. I subscribed. Every once in a while, a hymn or poem at the start of each day...as I read the morning prayers more often than the evening...one of those would apply specifically to me or open a thread in my mind to chase after and I'd be so intrigued by it that I'd look up the author in the back.
There your name would show up...time and time again.
Who is this woman? Why is she writing just for me? I don't remember having a Vulcan mind-meld with a Benedictine nun/sister/religious!
I would guess I'm not alone in this "link", but I can't speak for anyone but myself and want to thank you for your efforts.
I finally took the time to express some thanks and appreciation. A pat on the back, a hug, a thank-you, small things like that are needed by us all now and then.
Colin Schmidt
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