To begin this reflection – a confession. I can be a bit of a curmudgeon. Minor irritants and inconsistencies bother me more than I suspect they should. Logic should count for something and it is disappointing when real life fails to be logically consistent. There is one inconsistency that has since childhood bothered me – the juxtaposition of a Gospel that never fails to put itself firmly on the side of the poor and downtrodden – that calls a peasant preacher from a backwater town of the Roman Empire not just holy, but God – and the Church charged with proclaiming that same Gospel but celebrates it with gold, lace, stained glass and stone cathedrals. We are the wealthy children of the peasant God. So maybe it is right that we do so. And I hold that inconsistency within myself. I love these beautiful expressions of our devoted faith. I would mourn the loss of the gold, lace, stained glass and stone cathedrals.

The Gospel reading for this Sunday condemns the Scribes who swallow up widow’s houses to support themselves in comfort, and dress themselves ostentatiously and pray obviously in public, that they may be noticed and honored for their ironic piety. The Gospel ends with praise of a widow who offers what she cannot afford to offer. It is wrong that she is robbed of her physical sustenance in the name of her spiritual integrity – the Gospel itself says this. It was also praiseworthy that she so willingly gave what she had. Both are true – despite the discomfort of such a pair of meanings.

How do the rich become rich? In the simplest of terms by spending less money than they have coming in. I don’t have much personal experience with being rich. I have had the experience of being poor – or at least as poor as anyone in this rich country could be. I remember points of my life when what I had in my pocket was not enough to buy anything. I found it was easier to give away such a small amount than when I had just a little more than barely enough. Having nothing can ironically make us generous.

Sic et Non – yes and no – one of those theology slogans that bounce around in my mind – left over from my grad school days. It is taken from the title of a book of medieval scholastic theology by Peter Abelard. Sic et Non – yes and no. What we are presented in the readings are two opposite meanings coming out of the same readings. Are we called to admire the old woman who is so generous, though we don’t know what her reasons were? Yes and No. Are we rather to join Jesus in his condemnation of those who “devour the houses of widows”? Yes and No. It is both true that the widow’s contribution is praiseworthy, and it is also true that she is being exploited by a system that would make such a contribution even from a widow seem to be obligatory even though she had so little to live on.

But…

I have enough experience in and among poor and otherwise marginal communities to know there is dignity and value to allowing even the humblest of us to make real and even sacrificial contributions. Elijah sought out the widow of Zarephath to ask for some food and drink, and she was blessed by her willingness to give it. Even after hearing of her desperate state and even resignation to her approaching death from starvation Elijah still asks it of her. Was the widow Jesus noticed in the Synagogue also blessed by God in part two of her story? We hope so, and we believe that we can trust in God’s fidelity as always so much fuller than our own, but we don’t really know. The Scripture doesn’t tell us.

Throw the second reading into the mix, and the meanings of today’s readings get even more hopelessly and delightfully nuanced. (I had a friend who once joked that my tombstone would read “It depends…”) Christ is now the only true and lasting sacrifice in the temple. Salvation is no longer to be bought by the blood of animals, or in grain and oil, or in money paid into the treasury. Ya can’t buy your way to the promised land – though heaven knows we will keep trying.

In the end what meaning should we take away from these readings? It is the very generosity of our two widows (in the first reading and in the Gospel) that highlights their social oppression. Even if the sacrifice is unjust, God who knows our hearts honors that sacrifice as the act of love that it is. God is on the side of the oppressed because they are in need of God’s protection. Both are true. Sic et non.