People will ask me from time to time how I write my homilies and what the process behind it is.  As someone with attention deficit disorder, I can tell you, it ain’t pretty!  The kids who join me for Eucharistic Holy Hour each morning sometimes laugh when they see me arrive in the chapel with a stack of books that looks more like I’m preparing to write a research paper or cramming for an exam than entering into a time of prayer – (which is the first place anyone preaching has to start) I read the readings and pull a bunch of different things off the shelf that strike me as important.  Then there are always so many thoughts and ideas swirling around—along with plenty of distractions.  I write notes all over the place to try to hear and see where the Lord is (hopefully if I’m doing this correctly) leading and guiding me.  Honestly, I doubt I could ever teach a course on homily preparation to seminarians because even after all these years, the way the Holy Spirit works in this process remains a bit of a mystery to me.

Thanks so much for stopping by to read this homily for the 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time – November 10, 2024.  I appreciate your sharing this on your social media posts and your feedback and comments…  I’m also grateful for all those who’ve asked for the audio version and share them as well at SOUNDCLOUD click HERE or from ITUNES as a podcast HERE.  May the Lord be glorified in your reading and sharing- Father Jim

I share that because as I sat with these Sunday readings, as I reflected on the richness of today’s scriptures—especially the First Reading from 1 Kings and the Gospel from Mark, where we encounter two widows with seemingly simple yet profound stories— I was surprised myself that I kept focusing on two words that, at first glance, are identical except for one letter: Your and Our.

That one letter, though, changes everything.

In this passage from the Hebrew Scriptures, we hear this mysterious and miraculous story about this widow and the prophet Elijah.  Elijah has been sent on a journey by the Lord God, proclaiming a drought on the Chosen People due to their unfaithfulness.  God tells him that there’s a widow who will provide for him in a town called Zarephath.  When he arrives and sees her, he asks her for some hospitality.  She explains not only can’t she do that – she and her son are destitute – but in fact, she’s got the saddest itinerary you could imagine, as she explains “I was collecting a couple of sticks, to go in and prepare something for myself and my son; when we have eaten it, we shall die.” That certainly sounds like a pretty bad day.  Elijah seemingly comes across as narcissistic shall we say?  Saying that’s fine, just make a little cake for me and then prepare something for you and your son.

On the surface, the whole scene is outlandish.  If I was the prophet and heard the widows plight, probably my first thought would’ve been – this can’t be the widow that God was sending me to to provide for me, I gotta find that other widow who was supposed to care for me and then I can help this lady and her son out.

What stopped Elijah in his tracks and made him realize this was the one to whom he was being sent?  I think it was when the widow said to him, “As the Lord YOUR God lives…”

This widow isn’t Jewish.  Her cultural, religious, and racial background was utterly foreign to the Chosen People.  Yet, her response to the prophet is not dismissive or defensive.  Despite her dire predicament, she has a reverence, an awe, a respect for the Jewish people and their God.  She has seen, heard, felt something true about the Lord God in what she’s observed in His dealing with the Jewish people.  Maybe even a jealousy that she wasn’t Jewish herself.  But there’s a sense of faith already that she is invoking the Lord God in her response to Elijah – but a faith that she feels is not available to her – As the Lord YOUR God lives…

That’s why Elijah is a prophet, and Fr. Jim is not.  Elijah recognizes that this is indeed the widow that the Lord God was sending him to.  Not simply to take care of his temporal needs, but even more remarkably, inviting her into relationship with the Lord God herself, as he says “Do not be afraid” – the command that it is said that of all the commands that God gives His people, this is the one that is repeated the most throughout scripture and we seem to have the most difficulty following – (in fact it is said that you can find over 365 verses where God says “do not be afraid” in the Old and New Testament as if to say, there’s a verse for every day of the year).

At that moment, Elijah realizes that this is not just about sharing a meal or securing provisions for the day.  This is a divine encounter, a sacred opportunity to expand the widow’s faith. She may not be part of the Jewish people, but she is invited to make space for the Lord’s power and mercy in her life. This is a faith that leads to something far more sustaining than bread for a day: it is faith in the living God, the God who provides not just for the body, but more importantly for the soul. ‘Do not be afraid,’ he says, ‘for the jar of flour shall not go empty, and the jug of oil shall not run dry.’

This is where the simple yet profound difference between “your” and “our” becomes so meaningful.

When Elijah says “The Lord, the God of Israel says… the jar of flour shall not go empty, nor the jug of oil run dry…” he is proclaiming something essential to the widow:   God is not a distant deity, but someone who has been active, personal, and present in the lives of His people.  She hears something in Elijah’s words, his confidence, his trust in the Lord, and she responds, even in her own poverty, with an openness to God’s loving presence.

That difference between you and our is important because it speaks to a transition that happens in all of us as we deepen our relationship with God.

When we first come to know God, maybe we feel like the widow, standing outside, looking in.  We see others with their faith, their relationship with God, and we think, “That’s YOUR God, not mine.” It’s a faith that feels distant, foreign, and hard to grasp.  But something beautiful happens over time.  As we encounter God in His Word.  As we are obedient to His Word.  As we experience the sacraments and continue to learn about how the real presence of Christ affects every aspect of our lives from womb to tomb when we receive them.  As we see God at work in the lives of others… In all these and countless other ways, God constantly invites us into deeper intimacy.  He makes a way for us to move from “your God” to “our God.”

Which is what is at the heart of the Gospel—the invitation to move from being outsiders to being insiders in God’s Kingdom.  To realize that God doesn’t just live in someone else’s story, He lives in our story.  And it’s in the heart of that relationship, the deepening of our trust in the God who loves and sustains us, that our lives begin to change.

In this way, the reading, from the Gospel of Mark, becomes so relevant.  In the Gospel, Jesus is reinforcing His teaching from last Sunday.  When we heard about the two greatest commandments: to love God with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength, and to love our neighbor as ourselves.  Jesus is not just talking about a feeling of love or an abstract idea of love.  He is showing us the action of love.  The kind of love that moves us beyond our own personal survival mode—like the widow in Zarephath—into the love that is willing to give without counting the cost that is willing to pour out our whole selves for the sake of another.

In the story of this second widow and her contribution of two small coins, Jesus highlights this radical and self-sacrificial love.  Despite her poverty, this widow gives all she has, and in that simple act of surrender, she embodies the true spirit of the command to love God with all our heart.  She doesn’t just give a little because she has plenty left over.  No, she gives everything—and in that act of total generosity, she mirrors the very love of God, who provides everything for us, even His only Son.

Jesus sees the widow’s offering, and He praises it not because of its monetary value, but because it is the essence of the kind of love that He asks from each of us.  It’s not the size of the gift that matters, but the depth of the commitment, the fullness of the heart, the totality of the trust.

And this brings us back to where we started, to the two words: your and our.  As we grow in faith, our relationship with God moves from being an external, distant thing to an internal, personal reality.  We begin to understand, like the widow of Zarephath, that God is not only the God of others, but He is our God.  And as we come to see that, we are invited to love with a radical, self-sacrificial love that seeks to give everything to God and to our neighbors.

It reminds me of a story, a few months ago, someone I know shared how a person who he was, quote/unquote Friends with on Facebook, but who he never met and never really knew him personally, sent him a message.  The guy shared how he was embarrassed to be doing this, but he had been unemployed, behind on his rent for one month and had barely anything for the coming month and in his desperation he had made a go-fund me page and was asking him to consider making a gift.  Curiosity made him click on the link and he saw a goal of $1,300.  Immediately thoughts of “what is this scam” popped up – but he looked at his profile, realized they had been connected on FB for several years, he had been posting only things about his Catholic faith and such and that there was a number of mutual friends that they shared.  Some more back and forth between them made him more convinced that this wasn’t some scheme and the amount he was looking for, wasn’t outrageous either.  He saw that he had raised $300 and said he was going to make a $50 then thought about $100, and then he heard this voice saying ‘you have more than enough in your checking and savings that you could donate the rest that this guy is looking for…’  He’s not some incredibly wealthy person, but he knew that he was blessed in countless ways and had enough disposable income that yes $1,000 is a big deal, but wouldn’t mean he couldn’t make his payments, or neglect his own responsibilities.  At most it might mean he’d have to be a bit more frugal in things… and when he thought about how often he would blow $10 at Starbucks or playing a silly game on his phone, he realized forgoing some of those things wasn’t a huge short time sacrifice compared to the the relief this might be for someone who is so overwhelmed right now that they are making a virtual beg where he could instantly be an answer to a prayer.   Which he did.  He did it anonymously only asking me “what was that – was I being foolish?”  I said, quite the contrary.  It more sounded like the Holy Spirit had nudged him to this act of generosity to invite him into greater detachment from the things of this world and more trust in God.

Which is what is at the heart of these readings today.  These scriptures remind us that God is ever-present in our lives, working even in our darkest moments.   It might not always look or feel that way, but most times that’s because our expectations are unrealistic, that we’ve fallen for this lie that is searching for perfection.  God isn’t asking for perfection.   He’s asking for trust.  Trust that He will provide, sustain, and guide us through every challenge we face.

Its in doing that, it’s in opening our hearts and hands to God and our neighbors, when we offer our humble gifts and sacrifices, we engage in a transformative act of faith. In those sacred moments of giving, we step beyond mere words, proclaiming not just “As the Lord YOUR God lives,” but affirming with conviction, “As the Lord OUR God lives.”   Knowing that just as God sustained the widow of Zarephath, He is ever willing to sustain us. Remembering that like the widow giving her last two cents, when given with genuineness and sincerity, our offerings, no matter how small, are valued and vital in His divine plan. It is then that His presence can ignite hope and transfomation in ourselves and the world around us.