As we approach the end of the liturgical year, the readings begin to look forward to the second coming of Jesus, as they will continue to do into Advent.
Seeds
First Reading: 1 Kings 17:10-16
Notice how the widow addressed Elijah: “as the Lord your God lives”. She was a gentile, yet she was aware of the God of Israel and acknowledged his existence; we can’t say if she was a worshipper of God or simply saw God as one more god among the many that gentiles worshipped. Nevertheless, she demonstrated faith by accepting Elijah’s prophecy and was rewarded for that faith. In verse 9 of the chapter (not read today) the Lord told Elijah that he had commanded the widow to feed him, in what way? Through Elijah’s prophecy?
The context here is that at the beginning of chapter 17, Elijah prophesied a drought. This drought was so severe that it had led to the widow and her son being on the brink of death when Elijah found them.
Psalm: 145(146):7-10
The psalms often contain litanies of God’s deeds remembered by the people; these are turned into praise, but also into grounds for petition. If God had delivered people in the past, and his character is constant, he would surely do so again. How can this shape our own prayer lives?
In addition to showing kindness and compassion justice is also emphasised here, including thwarting the path of the wicked.
Second Reading: Hebrews 9:24-28
The first part of this passage, almost incidentally, tells us that the earthly sanctuary (the tabernacle and the temple) were modelled on the heavenly sanctuary. Those ancient buildings were creation in microcosm, and a space where the world as it was meant to be – God dwelling in the midst – could be glimpsed again.
As we approach the end of the liturgical year, the readings begin to look forward to the second coming of Jesus, as they will continue to do into Advent. Here, in Hebrews, we’re told that Jesus will appear a second time on earth “to reward with salvation those who are waiting for him”. Do we have this hope in us?
Gospel: Mark 12:38-44
The Rule of St Benedict warns against lengthy prayers, telling those monks and nuns who live under it to embrace brevity. Jesus, too, warns against lengthy prayers here. It’s not because lengthy prayers are wrong in and of themselves, after all St Paul tells us to pray constantly, but because they can become occasions for sermonising or showing off, especially in public. We should be concerned to maintain the simplicity and childlike directness of prayer.
The widow here donated all that she had to the temple treasury, leaving herself nothing to live on. In that sense she contributed more proportionally than anyone else. Giving can be a difficult subject in churches, especially in times of economic hardship, but what lessons can we draw from the widow?
Sapling
Today’s Psalm is another wonderful litany of God’s deeds, something that it’s worth pondering over. So today I propose to take a brief look at each item on the psalmist’s list and see what treasure they hold.
Firstly: “It is the Lord who keeps faith for ever, who is just to those who are oppressed.” My initial reaction to that statement is relief! Just a quick read through the narrative of the Old Testament shows how quickly and consistently God’s people fail to keep faith with God, fail to keep the terms of his covenant relationship. In our own lives we know the same dynamic to be true: we fall, we sin, we walk away from the Lord. How wonderful it is, then, that even given that propensity; the Lord keeps faith with us. Paul puts it eloquently: “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” Romans 5:8. His justice and mercy are constant, not dependent on our performance.
“It is he who gives bread to the hungry, the Lord, who sets prisoners free.” Our God is a provider, think of Adam and Eve: clothed by God after they realised their nakedness. Think of the people of Israel: fed by manna in the desert. The Scriptures are full of examples of God meeting physical needs. The life of the Church today is also full of these testimonies: every time a saint is canonised, miracles are looked for, most often physical healings. God isn’t disinterested in our mundane lives, actually he enters into them.
“It is the Lord who gives sight to the blind, who raises up those who are bowed down.” Who can fail to be reminded of the gospel scenes where Jesus fulfils these words so literally? When he restores or grants sight to the blind? But there’s another layer here: God is a God who brings healing in so many ways, lifting up those who feel pressed down by life, whether by chronic pain or bad luck or depression or a multitude of other aspects of life which cause us to walk as if we’re carrying a tonne of bricks. The Lord is the one who lifts those burdens and empowers us to live abundantly.
“It is the Lord who loves the just, the Lord, who protects the stranger.” An experience of stranger-hood can be felt in many ways, of course: even down to the spiritually open person who tentatively walks into a church and sits at the back during Mass, not knowing the words or gestures, not knowing the people around them. They feel isolated and vulnerable in a space that isn’t yet their home. The Lord has a special care for them, a love for them which seeks to draw them in and enable them to be at home.
“The Lord upholds the widow and orphan but thwarts the path of the wicked.” Like the image of the stranger above, we’re given two more images of isolation and vulnerability, and the assurance that God has a focused eye upon them. Whenever I read this verse, my mind goes to a scene in an old film – ‘the Rescuers’ – where an orphaned girl named Penny kneels by her bed to pray for a home. It makes me tear up to remember it. But it warms my heart, too, that God’s heart is moved to compassion by just that type of situation.
“The Lord will reign for ever, Zion’s God, from age to age.” This final couplet stamps a permanent seal on all we’ve just explored: this God who is faithful, generous, kind, and compassionate is also sovereign and secure. All the comfort we draw from his love and mercy is never in any danger of passing away! Last week we saw how Jesus’ divine face is the anchor of our hope: this psalm brings us straight back to that place, the surety of our hope in God.
There are two options for the people’s refrain to today’s psalm. I can’t think of a better way to close than by quoting one of them: “Alleluia!”
Fruit