Failing to Heed the Gospel Message

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This weekend I had two chances to put my faith into action, and failed both times. This, despite the fact that the Sunday readings were ample reminders of what I should have done.

It happened that on Sunday I was given a gift of $20 cash. It was generous of the donor, and I truly appreciated it, but for the purposes of this tale it’s important to note that I didn’t need the money. I had food, clothing, a roof over my head and gas in the car. The extra cash would let me splurge on a special breakfast, or maybe a drink and a fancy dessert for dinner, which would be a treat but not a necessity.

The other important point for this tale is the moral of the Sunday readings, one of which was about the widow of Zarephath and the other about the poor widow who “put two small coins worth a few cents” into the temple treasury. Jesus, contrasting her with the rich people who donated large sums of money, comments that she “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, has contributed all she had, her whole livelihood.”

In order for you to fully appreciate the irony of the tale I’m about to relate, I must confess that I had the benefit of receiving the Gospel message three times, once when I reviewed the readings as my morning meditation, and twice more in church as I followed Bishop Solis to Mass at St. George and then at Beryl Junction. I also should note that the bishop’s homily both times stressed the selfless generosity of the two widows.

I’ve frequently had cause to reflect that God’s trying to tell me something when I get the same message thrice within a short period of time. On Sunday I heard that message five times with my ears but not once with my heart.

My indifference was proven almost as soon as I left the church. With the $20 burning a hole in my pocket, I walked past a pregnant woman pleading for a handout. Maybe a whisper of God’s prompting did get through, because I turned around, but instead of digging into my pocket I reached into my wallet and withdrew a $5 bill, which I handed to her.

It wasn’t until I’d gotten into my car and driven several blocks that I realized my hypocrisy. Within an hour of hearing not only the Word of God but also a homily by my bishop on the theme of generosity, I failed to respond in an instance that called for action on that very issue. That $5 was from my “surplus wealth” – I’ve already paid my bills and have enough left over for a few frivolities. The woman who was asking for help, however, had to care not only herself and her unborn child but also another little one with her. The $20 bill in my pocket could have bought a decent meal for the whole family.

I’d like to say that upon recognizing my failure I was overcome with humility, but the next day proved I still hadn’t learned the lesson. As I pulled out of the gas station after refilling my car, a woman held up a gas can and a sign asking for help. To her, too, I gave $5 – more of my “surplus wealth.”

Once on the freeway, I cringed as my mind replayed the admonishments of the day before.

“Pray that our Lord may grant us the grace to have a trusting and generous heart – to be able to love and to give sacrificially and unreservedly,” Bishop Solis said in his homily, and though I heard the words as he spoke them I merely noted what an appropriate ending they were to his homily.

Today, though, I’m repeating them as a prayer, and beseech God to answer it.

Marie Mischel is editor of the Intermountain Catholic. Contact her at marie@icatholic.org