Gospel according to Saint Mark 12:38-44

In the course of his teaching Jesus said to the crowds, “Beware of the scribes, who like to go around in long robes and accept greetings in the marketplaces, seats of honor in synagogues, and places of honor at banquets. They devour the houses of widows and, as a pretext recite lengthy prayers. They will receive a very severe condemnation.”
He 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. Calling his disciples to himself, he said to them, “Amen, I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all the other contributors to the treasury. For they have all contributed from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has contributed all she had, her whole livelihood.”

True love creates dependence

Luis CASASUS President of the Idente Missionaries

Rome, November 10, 2024 | XXXII Sunday in Ordinary Time

1Kings 17: 10-16; Heb 9: 24-28; Mk 12: 38-44

In common language, the word “dependence” puts us in a state of alert. It suggests the lack of freedom of a substance user, such as marijuana, fentanyl or any other narcotic. Or perhaps it makes us think of what is called a dependent personality, a disorder that produces an exaggerated need for submission or to be cared for by someone.

But, looked at from another point of view, let us observe the state of happiness and authentic dependence of a mother devoted to her baby or a lover who literally cannot live without the loved one. It is a profound helplessness… it is the impotence of Christ on the Cross, it is to become totally dependent on the one you love. In today’s Gospel,

The greatest proof of this impotence and dependence on the beloved explains better than anything else what the Redemption means: Not only that He paid for our sins, but that He showed us how it is possible, in the midst of the most extreme weakness, to give everything for the one we love. This is a redemption from our limits to love, from the tyranny of our ego. In this sense, certainly the poor widow who appears today in the Gospel is an image of Jesus, very different from the rich who gave high alms. The measure of love is another…

Even when a young man makes the traditional gesture of kneeling in front of his beloved, to declare his love, even if it is something theatrical, he is manifesting himself as a beggar, as someone who cannot live without her presence and company. Sooner or later this love may deteriorate, become self-serving and ungenerous, but even so, in its beginnings it was united to that humility that reminds us of God’s unconditional love for us, his creatures. Benedict XVI says:

That which is wrong, the reality of evil, cannot simply be ignored; it cannot be left there. It must be confronted; it must be overcome. Only this counts as true mercy. And the fact that God now confronts evil himself, because men are incapable of doing so, therein lies the “unconditional” goodness of God(Jesus of Nazareth, 2007).

The universal character of redemption, of the freedom given to us to be able to love fully, is beautifully described in the First Reading, in the gesture of that woman, a pagan, non-Israelite, who accepts the request of a foreign prophet, gives him her own food and prepares to die with her son. The gesture is so significant and powerful that Jesus Christ will recall it later in his preaching (Lk 4: 25-26).

One lesson in the story of the widow of Zarephath, which we have undoubtedly experienced in our own lives, is the way Providence dialogues with our generosity.

First, the prophet Elijah asks the poor woman for water; then, for the meager food she had for herself and her son, in the midst of a drought and famine that was ravaging the region. Thus, when God is convinced of our willingness, of our generosity in making a small but sincere gesture of abandonment for others, he asks us for something always more important.

Thus it is fulfilled, if we respond in faith, that he who is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much; and he who is unjust in a very little is unjust also in much (Lk 16: 10). More than an observation about our behavior, it is a description of how grace always prepares us for the next step in the surrender of our life. In the story of the widow of Zarephath, the divine response is great and significant: her son is saved from death.

But the widow’s response is also profound and represents what always happens when a true disciple of Christ gives a testimony of faith:

Now I know that you are a man of God, and that the word of the Lord in your lips is truth (1Ki 17: 24).

Whether the person changes or not, whether he is converted or not, is something different, but the seed sown by the apostle already begins to bear fruit.

—ooOoo—

Let us not lose sight of the fact that on many occasions the generous act is not an initiative, a project that we do to serve, but has the characteristics of a true vocation, of a call, something that certainly requires the response of obedience. This is what happened to the widow of Zarephath, who received and accepted Elijah’s indication. But let us not forget that Elijah himself was in the same situation, obeying the wishes of Yahweh, fleeing from the death desired by the kings Ahab and Jezebel, and being fed in the desert by the ravens.

The Second Reading speaks accurately of what Christ’s generosity is like: it consists in the sacrifice of himself. This is not a symbolic phrase. The sacrifice of myself, of my life and my fame, is often painful, but it is the core of true freedom. St. Paul says of Christ that he emptied himself of his divine condition. This is what makes him the only true priest. Indeed, the blood of the sacrificed animals never achieved the freedom of human beings, never changed the level of sin in the world. But, the fact of knowing that Someone has already loved me in this way. That He has given His blood and continually inspires me to imitate Him, is a powerful stimulus that shakes all forms of my selfishness. It is true that generosity, in all its forms, is contagious.

In 2012, a writer witnessed an amusing occurrence. In the cafeteria of a roadside diner, a stranger generously paid the breakfast bill of the next customer waiting in line behind him. That person paid the bill for the next stranger in line. And so did all the following customers. It may seem like a superficial anecdote, but, since it was not a programmed experiment, it shows that generosity is truly contagious.

An even more profound case is the following, in the life of a saint, Anastasius, Father of the Desert of the 4th century.

Abbot Anastasius had a very expensive Bible, in fact his only possession. One day, a visitor stole the book from him, but Anastasius did not pursue him, because he did not want the other man to lie about stealing the book. A few days later, a used book seller in town approached Anastasius and said: A man wanted to sell me this book, but since it seems quite expensive, he wanted to know your opinion. Is it really a valuable book? Anastasius said yes, and told the bookseller the real value of the book, without mentioning that it was his. Upon learning this, the thief took the book to Anastasius and begged him to let him return it to him. But Anastasius did not accept the book and gave it to the thief as a gift. The thief was so impressed by the whole episode that he became Anastasius’ student and lived with him in the desert for the rest of his life.

It is not difficult to understand that, for many people, it is hard to believe in God’s love, even to believe in the existence of love in the world. Those who have had little or no experience of maternal and paternal love, those who have been hurt, abandoned or abused by someone close to them, need to feel in their lives an authentic, unconditional love, because they distrust everyone and, even more, do not consider themselves worthy of being loved. This is why the witness of those who seek to love like Jesus is so necessary. One can understand him more or less, one can follow him or flee from him, but his form of love does not generate suspicion or even less fear. That is why his love is truly redemptive; it takes into account that, besides being sinners, we are sick, we are wounded.

—ooOoo—

Christ’s comment, after contemplating the generosity of the widow who gave her alms, is worthy of note: She has given away what she needed, all that she possessed, all that she had to live on. It would have been touching and exemplary if the poor woman had kept one of those insignificant coins and given the other as alms. But she did what for her was the maximum possible. Surely you and I have not gone “all the way” in our acts of generosity.

According to the Master, that is the measure, not the amount of time, words, activities or travel we devote to others. The question I must ask myself is: Do I still expect a personal benefit from what I give, in the form of recognition, gratitude or the satisfaction of seeing a fruit before my eyes? There can be no division between my intentions and my actions; this explains why the Gospel today presents us with the contrast between the rich who gave alms and the poor widow.

I must analyze before Christ what I still unconsciously consider “necessary for living”, which will rarely be a material object. There are habits and ways of speaking that – I insist, without being very conscious – I consider to be part of my life, which I do not even imagine I should abandon before the altar, so that Christ may observe that I wish to exchange them for small gestures of generosity, which will undoubtedly lead me to create a habit a wonderful dependence on the life of my neighbor, nourished by grace.

Even without mentioning God, the venerable words of Mahatma Gandhi, aptly and poetically describe this process: Your beliefs become your thoughts, your thoughts become your words, your words become your actions, your actions become your habits, your habits become your values, your values become your destiny.

The poor widow was not only generous, but also possessed a spiritual vision that allowed her to understand the scope of her humble donation. Her gesture reached Christ, his disciples and each one of us. However, the rich and the scribes wanted to follow another direction: to make the simple people feel that they had to grant them privileges, to greet them with reverence; in reality, they wanted to take the place of God.

We may think that our case is different, that our attitude is not so cruel and selfish. That may be so, but our sensitivity to the affairs of the kingdom of heaven has to grow, if we believe in what Christ himself says: Whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones to drink, I tell you the truth, he will not lose his reward (Mt 10: 42).

_______________________________

In the Sacred Hearts of Jesus, Mary and Joseph,

Luis CASASUS

President