XXXII-B.1 Kgs 17:10-16 ; Heb 9:24-28 ; Mk 12:38-44

One man called at the church and asked if he could speak to the Head Hog at the trough. The secretary said, “Who?” Then she gathered herself and said “Sir, if you mean our pastor you will have to treat him with a little more respect than that and ask for the ‘Reverend’ or ‘The Pastor.' But certainly you cannot refer to him as the Head Hog at the Trough.” The man said, “I understand. I was calling because I have $10,000 I was thinking about donating to the building fund.” She said, “Hold on for just a moment — I think the big pig just walked in the door.”

Well, the secretary at St.Tim’s wouldn’t treat Fr.Bolte like that. But we all are subject to changing our tune when money is suddenly involved. That is why this passage of Scripture has been an enduring image throughout the ages. We play favorites. We treat those who give more as if they are the pillars on which the church is erected. In today’s gospel many Pharisees were putting large sums of money in the offertory box. But Jesus did not commend them, instead he commended the widow who contributed the least amount in the treasury. It is not about how much one gives but how sacrificial one’s giving is.

This Gospel passage shows that there are two ways of being generous: the way of the scribes, and the way of the widow. The scribes were the experts in interpreting the Law of Moses, and the Law of Moses was the core of Jewish culture. And so the people of ancient Israel respected and reverenced the scribes. But Jesus was unhappy with them. Without a doubt, they worked long, hard hours; they were always busy with worthy projects.  But, unfortunately, their natural intellectual gifts and elevated social function had gone to their heads. Instead of exercising their leadership as a service to the nation and to their neighbors, they were flaunting it to stoke their vanity, increase their comfort, and enhance their reputation. The higher they climbed, the more they looked down on everyone else. They considered themselves superior because they gave more time, talent, and treasure to the Temple than anyone else. But this was a one-dimensional view of generosity. The scribes were forgetting that all those external things were actually gifts God had given them in the first place. What God truly wants from us is something more, something deeper: he wants our love; he wants us to trust in him.

This is what the poor widow gave to him. She didn’t just share some of her abundance; she handed over to God all of her wealth, saying to him: “Lord, you are my good shepherd, and I will follow wherever you lead.” That was a prayer the scribes never prayed. They considered that they were doing God a favor by serving him; the widow understood that God was the one doing the favors. That’s the kind of generosity God wants to see flourish in each one of us: the generosity by which we give to God not just our stuff, but our heart.

Real giving is reckless, and symbolic of love. The woman could have given one coin and kept the other for herself. She could have kept both for herself. But she decided to give everything she had, and she did so. She did not want to come away from the house of the lord without offering anything.

Unless we gradually transform our self-centered, scribe-like tendencies into a Christ-centered, humble generosity like that of the widow, we will never be able to attain true Christian wisdom or experience true Christian joy. We can do two things to foster this transformation. First, we can ask God, every day, to purify our hearts, because without his grace we can do nothing (John 15:5). Second, we can practice. True, life-transforming virtue can only be developed by conscious effort. It doesn't come from pills or feelings; it comes from exercise.

Virtues, in this sense, are like muscles: the more we use them, the stronger they get. And the best place to exercise heart-felt, selfless generosity is at home. In fact, family life is designed by God to be a gymnasium for all Christian virtues. It is easy to put on the appearance of generosity, like the scribes, when we are interacting with people outside our family circle, because they only see us every once in a while. At home, our family members see us all the time, and so they know the good, the bad, and the ugly. And so, finding creative ways to serve our family members is a sure path to purify our hearts of selfish motives; they simply won't be impressed with our efforts – they know us too well. There is little chance of family members praising us too much for helping with someone else's chores even when they didn't ask us, or for being the first to forgive after an argument or a fight, regardless of who was at fault, or for leaving the last cookie for someone else without expecting any reward for ourselves. God wants to give us the freedom and joy of a truly generous heart. And he will, if we ask for his help, and if we do our part by practicing at home.

A short prayer composed by St Ignatius of Loyola is particularly suited for growth in this type of heart-felt generosity. It goes like this:

Dear Lord, teach me to be generous; Teach me to serve you as you deserve; To give and not to count the cost; To fight and not to heed the wounds; To toil, and not to seek for rest; To labor, and not to ask for any reward - except that of knowing that I am doing your holy will. Amen.

As we continue with this Mass, let's live it from our hearts, exercising our trust in his goodness and power, and offering our lives to him in thanksgiving for all he has given us, just like the poor widow.