"Amen, I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all the other contributors to the treasury. for they have all contributed from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, as contributed all she had, her whole livelihood."

The word "widow" in Hebrew carries the meaning of one who is silent or unable to speak. As you might know, all of Mediterranean culture is divided along gender lines. Men belong to public square; women remain secluded with the children deep within the home. A widow is already bereft of her husband, the male in whom she was embedded. If her eldest son was not yet married, she was even more disadvantaged. And if she had no sons at all, she might have to return to her family of origin if that were still possible. We encounter two widows from the readings of this weekend, the 32nd Sunday of Ordinary Time, cycle B.

The first one was met by the prophet Elijah at the gate of Zarephath. At that time, the whole land of Zarephath had a great famine due to a drought and crop failure, so the food was exhausted. Tat poor widow had only a pinch of flour and a little cooking oil. She was about to collect sticks to make the last small bread for her and her son to eat for the last time and then lay down to die. Yet, when the prophet Elijah asked her for a small cake, she was willing to make one for the prophet. She was willing to give her last resource of survival.

In the Gospel, we see Jesus walk over and situate itself opposite the temple treasury. He watches people come, making contributions freely and faithful. They are not buying anything there. They are not paying the tax and are not out to bribe or influence anybody. These are anonymous gifts. Lots of people stop by, including plenty of wealthy people. Jesus keeps on watching. Then a window moves in. From her hand, she drops two copper coins with a penny. "There," Jesus exclaims. "See that? That is the kind of contribution I have been waiting for. That is my idea of giving." One penny would not eliminate the deficit, pay a salary, buy fuel oil, or even help the needy. Her offerings makes no difference to anybody. The temple would function just as well without it. No one would miss her sacrifice. No one would care if she has kept the money, except for Jesus.

Both Elijah and Jesus celebrate the acts of giving done by these two widows because they model something else. The small cake and the two coins in themselves do not matter. They, however, represent something much bigger than themselves. They represent faith and belief and how these must be lived out in concrete acts and not solely by rituals. They represent faith-filled offerings found in presenting all of who one is and all one hopes to become to God for service to other people. They represent the act of being not so much the act of giving or receiving. They represent true generosity which focuses not so much on the quantity by the quality of the act. And they represent the total trust in God's providence.

What can we, modern followers of Jesus, take away from those two widows' giving? I think of three:

The first is this: We are challenged to be more conscious that our giving, whether of time, talent, or treasure, is an instrument of identification with the Lord who gave his all for us.

Second, what is the main motive of our giving? Perhaps, we give only because we have a lot, or because somebody is pestering us, or because it is expected of us, or because of love.

Finally, are we, the modern-day disciples of Jesus, willing and content when our giving should be not only generous but also sacrificial? The amount we actually give doesn't matter much, but what it costs us personally or sacrificially does. That is to say, the size of our wallet does not really matter, what matters is the size of our heart.