The Value of a Gift

Gospel Reflection for November 25, 2024

Daily Gospel Reading

LK 21:1-4

When Jesus looked up he saw some wealthy people
putting their offerings into the treasury
and he noticed a poor widow putting in two small coins.
He said, “I tell you truly,
this poor widow put in more than all the rest;
for those others have all made offerings from their surplus wealth,
but she, from her poverty, has offered her whole livelihood.”

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There's something striking about Jesus sitting at the temple treasury, watching the steady stream of people making their offerings. The wealthy come forward, dropping in substantial gifts—perhaps with a bit of grand standing or ostentatiousness. But then Jesus notices a widow, quietly placing two small coins into the treasury.

What moves me about this is Jesus's reaction. "This poor widow has given more than all the others," He tells his disciples. At first glance, it seems illogical—they just watched the rich give far more. But Jesus sees past the surface to something deeper.

Those wealthy donors gave from their vast wealth; they offered what could have been reasonably given from their abundance. Sure, the amounts were larger, but the gift “cost” them little. This widow? She offered much more. The depth of her trust is inspiring, is it not? To me, in those two very coins, she revealed a profound understanding that everything, literally everything, belongs to God.

The widow's offering, by Gustave Doré (1832 – 1883)

It's worth pausing here to consider what these two coins meant in her world. These weren't just spare change. These were potentially her last coins—what could have bought her next meal. In today's terms, imagine walking into church and dropping your last twenty dollars into the offering basket, knowing your pantry is empty at home. That's the magnitude of trust we're talking about.

It challenges me to examine my own approach to giving. Often, I'm comfortable offering my time or money, serving in ways that fit neatly into my schedule or conveniently into my budget. But when it comes to true sacrifice? That's when I start rationalizing, finding "reasonable excuses."

We're all guilty of this, aren't we? "I need to save for retirement." "I should keep something for emergencies." Both true, perhaps, but sometimes these reasonable thoughts can become comfortable shields against sacrificial giving.

Of course, I'm not advocating for recklessly giving or neglecting the responsibility that we have to the ones we have a duty to care for. The widow's example points to something more fundamental—a heart that truly understands stewardship.

Everything we have is a gift from God—our possessions, relationships, talents, bodies, time, and resources. We aren't owners, but stewards entrusted with these blessings. Our attitude around giving in these gifts should reflect this truth: that all we have belongs to Him.

Her sacrifice reminds me of Abel offering his firstborn flock. It's about giving our best, our first fruits, not just what's left over after we've taken care of our own desires. The widow could have kept one coin for herself; it would have been perfectly reasonable and rational to do so. Instead, she demonstrated a trust in God's providence that challenges our modern sensibilities.

This story particularly convicts me when I think about my own giving habits. How often do I give God my "leftover" time—those few minutes before bed when I'm too tired to pray properly? Or my "leftover" attention—half-heartedly participating in Mass while my mind wanders to the upcoming Chiefs game or my project at work? The widow challenges this comfortable Christianity we've crafted for ourselves.

As Catholic Christians, this should shape how we live in every aspect of our lives. The widow's two coins teach us that authentic giving isn't measured by the size of the gift, but as my parish priest Fr. Tom said recently, "it’s the cost to the giver."

Her example in today’s gospel asks us: Do we trust God enough to give until it costs us something—actually something?

In the end, perhaps the most beautiful part of this story isn't just about the giving—it's about giving in a way that’s spiritually meaningful to Christ. He sees our sacrifices, no matter how small they might seem to others.

He notices when we choose faith over fear, trust over security. And in those kinds of moments, like with the widow, He points to our offering and says, "Look at what great faith this is."