Dear Friends,

This Sunday, we hear the familiar story of the “Widow’s mite,” often highlighted during stewardship season as a model for giving. If this poor woman, who offers her last two coins, can give from her scarcity, how much more can we give from our abundance?

In the aftermath of this week’s elections, I’ve reflected on this woman, and on the systems in our own day that leave people left out and left behind. I realized that my conception of who those people are might differ significantly from those who voted for the opposite candidate, which humbled me.

Shortly after, I encountered a narration of the Widow’s mite that stirred me deeply. I’d like to share it with you in hopes that you find consolation in it as well:

Sitting near an official collection station for offerings to the Temple, Jesus watches as various members of the ruling elite preen like male peacocks spreading their tails. They are in the courtyard to advertise themselves making impressively large contributions to the Temple treasury. We overhear bits of conversations as the men try to impress each other with their accomplishments and connections.

Jesus watches with soft eyes. These men of wealth, power, and position give such great attention to impressing others, but their behavior and concerns are clearly frivolous. But, however frivolous, their pursuits are not without serious consequence. The dark side of this social display is the power—and the willingness—of its practitioners to exploit and even destroy the weak and the helpless as if they have no value at all. They take from those who have almost nothing, in order to finance their displays of privilege.

Maybe as importantly, these dynamics have also debased the people’s shared values, in a nation that was founded in a common religion. Now rather than the foundation of respect for the humanity of all community members, it has become a racket to further the ambitions of the powerful.

Jesus now watches as one poor widow makes her way across the courtyard. She calls no attention to herself, yet she is quite aware of the crowd, the bustle and noise. She can feel the atmosphere dense with ego, ambition and posturing. She is not unaware of the tables of the merchants and bankers. She may suspect that treasury funds are being skimmed for personal enrichment.

Nevertheless, she deposits two small copper coins in the Treasury collection. It’s money she can’t really afford, that she needs to live on. Nevertheless, she radiates an inner calm. This act is what the sacred scriptures require. It is a spiritual practice she has kept all of her life as a woman of faith. Nevertheless, she finds joy and peace in placing the small coins in the collection, and knows, really knows, that despite everything, God is in this place.

Her faith has kept her whole.*

In Christ,

Amelie

*Jeanne Marcus, “Nevertheless” from Inward/Outward, Weekly Gospel Reflection, November 2018.