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Sometimes I feel like I have nothing left to give; like I’ve been stretched on the rack and all my grace, gifts, and gratitude have been wrung from me. It’s a self-inflicted feeling, for sure. Again, I’ve bowed to the false god of self-reliance. In the face of uncertainty I have set my jaw, clenched my fists and demanded “my will be done.” Each time I re-learn what Psalm 16 warns: “those who run after other gods will suffer more and more.”
It is fitting that the new liturgical year begins with Advent, and Advent begins with the proclamation of Hope. Uncertainty accompanies new beginnings, and hope accompanies uncertainty. If we are full and the future is clear there is no need for hope at all. But hope meets us where it hurts the most and lifts our eyes to a wider horizon. Hope kindles a spark of life, initiates a journey of discovery; it refuses stagnation but also demands full surrender. The poor widow in today’s gospel reading reminds me how to do that.
When she arrives at the temple the widow has only two small coins and she gives them both away. Jesus is quick to point out “she gave all she had to live on.” She may not know how her material needs will be met but she embodies the faith of Psalm 16 which proclaims “Lord, you are my portion and my cup; you make my lot secure.” In letting go of her self, she lets God in.
I have two coins called security and certainty that I cling to, but it is time to give them away. When I let go of myself, I do not know how God will fill me or where that journey might lead. But that is the thrill of hope.
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