To give out of one’s plenty is simple enough. Yet giving out of one’s own lack is a different matter entirely. How does one give when there is nothing left over for oneself? Is it even possible? Logic tells us that the emptier our purse, the more we ought to hold on to what little we have. The Christian life, though, turns such logic on its head. Today’s readings reveal that it is precisely out of one’s own poverty that we are called to give ourselves away.
Nothing Left to Give
Over the past few months, I have experienced this very tangibly in caring for a new baby at home. Leisure has vanished from my days. The time I used to pour into personal prayer, in Adoration, or in meditating on Scripture, has been given over to the demands of parenthood. Certainly, all new parents can relate to this. Worn out by lack of sleep, strained by the cries of an infant, one can come to feel that it is perhaps impossible to commune with the Lord. I have wondered, during the tiring nights, how I might offer anything to the Lord, when it seems there is nothing left to give. Many times, I have uttered in my heart that last line of Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot: “I can’t go on. I’ll go on.” It is in those moments of near emptiness, when I offer a gaze of the heart toward the Lord, that I have been given glimmers of unexpected grace.
In today’s Gospel reading Jesus lauds the poor widow who gives the last two pennies out of her livelihood and declares that her gift is greater than that given out of the surplus of others. Two things strike me as I reflect upon this scene: the widow’s desire to worship; and Jesus’ attention to the hidden offering.
Love of the Lord
We might ask why the widow would give all she has left to the temple. Practically speaking, it does not make any sense. She gave away what little she had as an offering to the Lord, rather than spending it on her own sustenance. Why? Such a giving away speaks to her love of the Lord and her desire to worship Him. She gives up her last coins with a certain blind, whole-hearted devotion, trusting that the Lord she loves will turn this gift to good. Rather than holding onto them for her own bread, she gives it away, as if to say, “This is all I have left. I offer this up for You.” Is this not the essence of prayer?
Seen by Him
Secondly, let us note that this seemingly hidden offering is treasured by Jesus. So, too, our most ordinary and hidden moments become great and meaningful in His gaze. Nothing we do out of love for the Lord escapes His notice. Quite simply, Jesus sees each of our hearts. He sees you. The more hidden and sincere our offerings are to him, and the more they arise from a place of poverty in the heart, the more He exalts us.
Spiritual poverty is not a comfortable place, yet it is here, in the poorness and littleness of our heart, that the Lord comes to us most fully. Today, friends, let us strip away the coverings and confront just how empty and little we are on our own; and when it seems we can no longer go on, let us remain steadfast in the Lord, giving away the last ‘two coins’ we have.
