Homily for Tuesday of the 10th Week in Ordinary Time, 9 June 2020, Mat. 5:13-16
Last Saturday we heard about the story of the poor widow who dropped two copper coins into the Temple’s treasury box while Jesus was observing from a distance. You remember how Jesus extolled her contribution as being of greater worth than all the fat donations that were being offered by the others? He said all the others gave from their plenty, while this woman gave from her poverty. Jesus knew how to relativize money. What may seem insignificant to you might mean the whole world in God’s eyes.
Today we hear about another widow in our first reading: the widow of the Gentile town of Zarephath in Sidon. The story goes that it was famine in the land, and this woman had no food left but a handful of flour in her jar and a little oil in her jug. In fact she was gathering sticks to make fire and was about to use up the last cup of flour and oil, to make it into bread for her last meal with her little boy, and prepare themselves to die of hunger afterwards. And yet she did not mind sharing her last morsel of bread with a hungry man who happened to be the prophet Elijah. As a result, her jar of flour never went empty nor did her jug of oil. The prophet was right in his assurance that the Lord could not be outdone in generosity.
In the past several months of the Covid pandemic, I have heard from our mission stations many heartwarming stories about poor people helping their fellow poor. Actually, before the Covid pandemic began, we were engaged in a relief operation for the people of Taal. I usually write a circular letter asking our Sunday Massgoers in our parishes and mission stations to announce in advance that they were welcome to make whatever contribution they could offer, whether in cash or in kind, and bring it the following Sunday for that specific purpose.
On that particular Sunday, the mission chaplain happened to be celebrating Mass in probably the most destitute slum communities in our diocese—which, by the way also has the biggest number of widows and orphans of victims of EJK. Just months before that, that community had also experienced a disaster; a big fire had razed their homes to the ground. They had to rebuild from scratch again, and we also made an appeal on their behalf.
That Sunday, the priest reminded them that in their hour of need a lot of people had come to their aid. To be honest, I could have exempted them from the appeal, but the priest decided to read my circular anyway and added, “Now it’s the people of Taal who are greatly in need. Maybe in our Mass next week, if you want to help them in whatever little way we can, you can bring it next Sunday and offer it at the presentation of gifts. ”
The following Sunday, at the offertory, he was shocked to find out that each family had brought one or two cups of rice each. He said the line of offerers stretched to the next street corner. The priest himself was the one holding the sack upright as the people poured their cups of rice into them until they were able to fill up seven sacks of rice. He said he was crying the whole time because he was so moved by the sight. They had to keep repeating the offertory song to accompany what to him seemed like an endless flow of generosity.
Stories like these have also led me to believe that there is something more contagious than the NCorona virus—GENEROSITY. The last cup of rice when it is shared, becomes bottomless. Somehow, God cannot be outdone in generosity.
I think I told you also about that man who received a food bag from the LGU and brought it to San Roque Cathedral to ask our Caritas to give it to someone who might need it more. Sr. May took a picture of the man wearing a face mask, handing to our Caritas the food pack with 5 kilos of rice, canned goods, noodles and coffee and sent it to me. I posted it on my FB page without identifying the man, and believe it or not, his story had so touched many hearts, we were flooded with donations for our relief operation after that. Believe it or not, it has not stopped up to now. Our bodega for relief goods has never been empty ever since. You see how true it is that generosity breeds generosity?
I call it a repeat of the miracle of the five loaves and two fish that ended up feeding five thousand people. In the Gospel of John, the five loaves were made of barley. And they were contributed by a young lad. In ancient Israel barley was never used for making bread because it was fed only to animals. They’d say you’ve got to be so poor as to eat bread made from barley. Meaning, the bread that satisfied the crowd was shared by the poor.
I do not think it multiplied because Jesus had done magic on it. Rather, he recognized one little act of kindness and it was enough to trigger an avalanche of goodness and generosity. Before they knew it they were gathering more baskets of leftover than they actually started with. Remember what Jesus said in Luke 6:38 “Give and gifts will be given to you; a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap. For the measure with which you measure will in return be measured out to you.”
Let us now relate it briefly to the Gospel, where Jesus calls his disciples SALT OF THE EARTH AND LIGHT OF THE WORLD. Generous people, especially among those with modest means, are like salt. Their act of witnessing may not seem much, but it can can have a tremendous effect. Maliit, pero matindi. Isn’t it interesting that salt is best appreciated when it is mingled with food in just the right amount? Not too much. In fact, it serves its purpose best when it is not noticed. When it calls attention, not to itself, but to the natural taste of the food.
And while the Lord says elsewhere that almsgiving is best done in secret, in this Gospel, using the analogy of light, he says, “In the same way you must let your light shine before people, so that they may see the good that you do, and give glory to your Father in heaven.” Take note, it is meant to call attention not to ourselves but to God, to the source of all goodness. We call this witnessing.
