Homily for Ordinary Time – 32nd Sunday Year B 2018
1 Kings 17:10-16; Hebrews 9:24-28; Mark 12:38-44
Introduction
"Beware of the scribes, who like to go around in long robes." When I heard those words, I wondered, is Jesus referring to priests, to me? Look, I am wearing long robes. And then he we went on to speak about:
- those who "accept greetings in the marketplaces"; people call me "Father" when they see me in Wal-Mart or Walgreens, even those older than I am.
- those who accept "seats of honor in synagogues"; again that is me; I am the only one who has a reserved seat here in church.
- those who accept "places of honor at banquets"; at wedding receptions people usually put the priest near the head-table, not at Table No. 37, near the kitchen or bathrooms.
- He goes to say: "They devour the houses of widows and, as a pretext recite lengthy prayers"; in a short while I am going to be saying a long Eucharistic Prayer, but thankfully no widow has given me their house, yet.
And he concludes, "They will receive a very severe condemnation." So what is the Lord trying to tell me? What is the Lord trying to tell us?
Scripture and Theology
Actually, in today's gospel, the Lord is contrasting two ways of relating with material things, one bad, one good. The first, that of the scribes is attachment to material things: robes, greetings, seats of honour, houses of widows. The second way, the way of the poor widow, who puts two coins into the collection plate at the Temple, is the way of total self-gift. For while two coins probably amounted to very little money, they were all she had; those who gave more, did so from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, gave all that she had.
You have probably heard the story of the little boy, who shared a similar genetic disease with his little sister, who was now critically ill. But since he had survived from it and had some antibodies in his blood, a possible remedy was for her to receive a blood transfusion from him, something to which he agreed, since it would save his sister's life. And so when they began the transfusion, he looked up at the doctor and with a trembling voice asked: “Will I start to die right away?” The little boy thought that he was giving away all his blood.
The total self-giving by this widow in the gospel, was preceded by another widow, the one we heard about in the first reading. She similarly gave to the Prophet Elijah her very last supply of food. Her meal probably could not compare to the fine dining at the restaurants we have in New Orleans. But because she gave completely, everything she had, she was rewarded by God, with food to last her the whole period of the famine. Her action was small, but the thought behind it was great; it was the thought of total detachment.
But the one really puts this message into action is Jesus himself. He does not give two coins or the last morsel of food like the two widows, but he gives his very life on the cross. Sometimes we think of the sacrifice of Jesus as being the physical suffering that he endured; but his true sacrifice, his true gift was giving himself completely for the life of the world. Many people before him and since have suffered terribly. But only he did so, without having to do so, so that he might give life to the world.
And so, the moral of the readings is not a comparison between rich and poor, but rather between those who are attached to what they have, and those who freely give what they have, whether they are rich or poor. The problem of the scribes was not riches, but rather attachment to riches; the virtue of the two widows was not poverty, but the willingness to give of themselves completely. The rich do not have a monopoly on attachment, nor the poor on generosity. Obviously it is the latter, the widows rather than the scribes that Jesus wants us to imitate.
Christian Life
So, how then are we to live out this message? What are we to do about those things who use by the Scribes Jesus condemns, that is robes, titles, seats of honour and money? Should we give them up completely? No we should not. What Jesus is condemning is their abuse, not their use; he is condemning the attachment to things as ends, not the use of things as means to an end.
That is why we use good and beautiful things for worshipping God, our churches, our altars, our music, and yes, even our robes. For the setting part of some things for God help us know and worship God. Recently I had a group of Catholic school children visit the Seminary chapel for Mass. After the Mass, one of their teachers said, that being in our chapel, he felt the presence of God, something he doesn't feel even in the most well-decorated banquet-hall. And why do priests, deacons and other ministers wear vestments at Mass? We do so, so that our humanness can decrease as the Christ we represent increases. That is why even when I am in Wal-mart buying deodorant or in Walgreens buying some Tylenol, I usually dress in my clerics, so that when people see me this way, they are reminded about the Jesus Christ and sometimes they will come and speak to me about their relationship with God.
And so, like the two widows who gave the best they had, we must give God, the best that we have. In Genesis, it is not clear why God rejected the sacrifice of Cain and accepted that of Abel; but some scholars have suggested that Cain did not offer the best fruits of his gardens, while Abel offered the best animal for sacrifice that he had raised.
I have had the opportunity celebrate Mass in all kinds of places; at St. Peter's Basilica in Rome, at various beautiful churches here in the Archdiocese of New Orleans including this very church, as well as on an old rickety coffee table under a mango tree in my home country of Uganda. Even that small village community in Uganda, without the beautiful churches and ornaments found elsewhere, as long as they gave their best coffee table as the altar, their best wild flowers for the decorations, and their best voices, pleased God at their Mass.
Mothers might remember when your five-year-old daughter gave you a Mother's Day card, one she made from scrapbook paper. She wrote on it with crayons, spelled the word "mother" wrong, and drew a picture of you that looked like an alien. But because you knew who made that card and why she made it, you received the card, like it was the most expensive card Hallmark ever made; it is the thought that counts!
And so, all our material things are nothing but means for glorying God, to be valued not for their own worth, but for how well they show our devotion to God.
And like the widow who fed Elijah with her last morsel of food and water, we must also use what we have for the care of our neighbour, especially feeding the hungry and thirsty. And like her the quantity of our giving is secondary to the thought behind our giving. Whether your donation to the work of the Church or to charity is large or small, what counts is the size of the heart with which you give.
I don't know about you, but when I look back on my life, the kindnesses that I remember receiving often are memorable, not because of their greatness, but because of their generosity. I remember my fifth-grade classmate Patrick who regularly shared his treats with me. I remember the nuns who paid for me to go to a good Catholic school. I remember the random woman who gave me cotton wool to stop the persistent bleeding from my tooth extraction when I was walking home from the dentist. They gave what they had for service of another.
Conclusion
Today we celebrate Veterans and this year it coincides with the hundredth anniversary of the end of the First World War. We celebrate the men and women who give of themselves completely, like the widows in today's readings. May they also inspire us to follow the example of our Lord Jesus Christ in giving completely for the glory of God and for the benefit of others. And even if what we have is small or imperfect, because it is the thought that counts, may the thoughts behind our giving be as generous and self-giving as they can be.
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