32nd Sunday Year B - Trust in God

I think when we were growing up, at least for most of us, there was always a common experience at the dinner table.  Especially when you were about 6 or 7 years old.  There would always be something on the plate you didn't like, or that you decided you really didn't want.  So you'd take your time and eat around it, hoping that mom would let you get away with it.  Then it would happen, that famous line that I think every Mother knows…"Don't you know there are starving children in the world who would love to have the food you have?"  Then, we'd feel bad, and do our best to eat it.  I think my favorite story, was once when a mom told me that as she was cleaning up after dinner, and her little boy was helping.  He scraped all the little pieces into a bowl and said to his mom...here, do you think the starving kids would want these?

Can we really imagine what it would be like to be so poor that the scraps from that little boy would seem appealing?  It's a scary thought.  I know how much we all like to complain about our lives, what's going on, how terrible things are, but can we really imagine what it must have been like in that Elijah story.   When I hear that story of Elijah, her words are so simple and yet so terrifying.  "I have nothing baked, there is only a handful of flour in my jug, Just now 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."

I mean, there's what we call poverty and there's that.  I think it's safe to say that reality is beyond anything that any of us have ever experienced.   Even for the folks in prison it isn't quite that bad.  Our country really has managed to pretty much eliminate that level of poverty and that's a good thing.  At the same time, it's it absolutely incredible what the widow does for the prophet Elijah.  Like the woman in the Gospel, she makes an offering, not out of her excess, but out of what little she had. 

There is something about real poverty that enables us to do that, that enables us to give out of our need in a way that becomes difficult once we're doing ok.  I remember growing up, hearing the idea, "Blessed are the poor in Spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God" and thinking "Wait a minute, how's that work?  Aren't the saints supposed to be these people who are great in spirit, have their act all together, and they get it?  So how does this, "poor in spirit" business really work?  I know myself, I had heard the  answer for many years, but it took me a really long time for it to sink in.

Jesus absolutely loved the poor, the misfit, the reject of society.  He looked down on the rich, the ones who had it together.  Of course, it wasn't just being rich or being poor because there were certainly exceptions.  The key point, which all the saints had in common, was their humility.  They realized they didn't have it all together, and they were honest enough to say one thing.  One thing that the widow in this story could truly say when she chose to use her last bit of flour to make a cake for Elijah, one thing that the widow in the Gospel could say, on thing that all the saints who suffered could say, something that The Lord told St. Faustina, when Jesus pointed us toward his Divine Mercy.  That one thing is simply "Jesus, I trust in you."

That little statement, "Jesus I trust in you" is what makes the difference.  When the widow had nothing and gave out of her need, what was she saying "Elijah, I trust you are a man of God, so I'm placing my real trust in God.  What were the scribes and pharisees saying when they gave out of their excess?  They were saying, "Thank you for making me so wonderful, I'm glad I have the resources that I don't have to put all my trust in you."  That's the difference.

When we talk about the saints being poor in spirit, what are we saying?  We're saying they were smart enough to realize….this isn't about me.  They realized, I can't do this on my own power, I need Jesus Christ, I need God.  It means realizing our own faults and weaknesses, our own shortcomings and failures.  It means saying "I know I can't do this on my own, so I've got to let go of the part of me that says "I can do this myself" and say instead, "Jesus, I trust in you"

It means letting go of our pride.  It means letting go of trying to save face.  It means putting our whole self, bare, before God and saying "I can't do this myself…but you can"  and really listening, really trusting, that he will watch over us and guide us.

For the one, like this widow, who's on her last thread, putting trust in God becomes, in a way, easier.  She can say, "I can see that there's no way I can do this on my own"  For the rest of us, that temptation is always there.  "I know better, I can do it better, I want to do it my way."   or, the one I hear more often  "I'm not sure I can take the kind of risk, Think what I could have to lose.  I'm just barely holding on now, I don't think I could manage it."  They might seem different, but at the end of the day if we say those things, we're still saying, "I'm not sure I'm ready to put my trust in Jesus.  I think I'm better off doing what I've been doing, I want to stick to what I know, letting go of control and trusting is hard."

So this week as we walk through our normal routines, I'd like us to ask…where is Jesus really calling me to take a risk?  Even though I might fall flat on my face, Where do I really need to put my trust in him?  Am I prepared to spend time before Jesus and really say and mean "Jesus, I trust in you"