Dear Parishioner,
I am often struck by the headlines in newspapers and online news about the rich and famous. Their extravagant lifestyles capture public attention, with many eager to learn about their luxurious homes, exotic holidays, and lavish nights out. In a world fascinated by wealth, there’s a real appetite for these stories, a curiosity about what the rich spend—often without a second thought.
But what does this have to do with our readings today? Quite a lot, actually, because today’s scripture shows us two examples of what true extravagance looks like. And it’s not coming from the rich and famous but from two poor, vulnerable widows. Stories like theirs don’t make headlines, but perhaps they should.
In biblical times, widows were among society’s most marginalized. Without a husband or the support of a family, a widow often lived on the edge of survival. There was no safety net, no welfare system to provide her with food, medical care, or financial support. Widows were often forced to rely on the charity of others, which was anything but guaranteed. This context makes the actions of the two widows in today’s readings all the more remarkable.
In the first reading, we hear of a widow who, despite her severe poverty, shares the last bit of food she has with the prophet Elijah. She has so little—a handful of flour, a few drops of oil. Yet, in faith, she chooses to share this with Elijah, trusting in God’s promise that her jar will not run empty. And indeed, God provides for her as she gives generously from her scarcity.
Similarly, in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus observes a poor widow at the temple. She puts in two small coins, worth almost nothing in material terms. But Jesus sees the significance of her act—she has given all she had to live on. In a world obsessed with wealth and abundance, she offers the little she has, holding nothing back.
These widows exemplify true extravagance, not in material wealth but in faith and generosity. They give everything, even at great personal cost, in an act of deep trust and surrender to God.
Reflecting on their example, I wonder: What do we hold back? When God invites us to give—whether it’s our time, our resources, or simply our trust—how do we respond? Are we willing to let go of what we have, even when it feels uncomfortable, even when it means giving from our “last handful of flour”?
Yours in Christ,
Deacon Ian