It's the Thought That Counts
Homily for Sunday November 10th: 32nd Sunday of Ordinary Time
My father used to tell this story, from his days growing up summering in a small mid-coast village in Maine.
Just outside of town was the home of someone who was, apparently, a kind of a well-known personality, quite famous in certain circles. But he kept mostly to himself.
One day the locals were discussing this fella. One of them shrugged it off.
“Doesn’t seem like much of a big-shot to me, he said. Remember that big winter storm blew through here a few years ago? I was drivin’ by an’ saw him where his car skidded off the road. I hitched up the truck, pulled him out of the ditch, he went on his way.
Few days later, he sent along a thank-you card. Every Christmas since he puts a card in the mail.”
“Seems decent enough,” the others said. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Thing is, fella can’t even be bothered to go out and buy a nice Hallmark card or nothin’. Just makes up his own cards to send out.”
Now it should probably be mentioned at this point that the fella he’s talking about was Andrew Wyeth.
But putting aside for the moment the fact that a hand-drawn Wyeth card would probably sell for the price of a couple thousand Hallmarks, it’s worth remembering that any gift should be worth more than its basic monetary value.
As Jesus reminds us in the Gospel today, it’s the thought that counts.
To be clear: I’m not saying that monetary giving is unimportant. Canon Law does oblige us all to contribute to the financial support of the parish. The recommended standard is to give ten percent of our income, but Canon Law allows for flexibility according to circumstances.
As the Gospel today makes clear – something as true today as it ever was – for some people, that ten percent may determine whether or not they can pay rent this month. While others will still be left with more money than they could ever know what to do with.
That’s the thing about money – the more you have, the less valuable it actually is. And ironically, those who have the most to spare often seem to be the most reluctant to part with it.
It’s the people who have the least, who truly appreciate the value in what they do have, who are often most likely to share with those in need. Like the other widow we meet in the first reading today. Though she barely has enough to feed herself and her son for one more day, she is still willing to give a small portion to a stranger in need.
The Church actually identifies three ways we can contribute: those are, Time, Talent, and Treasure. The Church needs all three. It needs our treasure, certainly – our financial donations – there will always be bills to pay. But the backbone of the church will always be the time and the talents of our congregants, our volunteers, those who show up to do what needs to be done.
I’m reminded of Dorothy Day, whose birthday we celebrate this weekend. As a journalist she poured her time and talent into writing about the problems of the day and what Catholic Social Teaching called us all to do about it. In the midst of the Great Depression, she always had some food to offer the hungry and a corner of her home for the homeless. She relied on volunteers to help with the cooking and the serving, and generous financial donors to help pay the rent. All of it necessary to do what needed to be done.
Jesus calls us into relationship with God. And as with any relationship, what we get out of it depends a lot on what we put into it. Like the widow in the first reading - by giving something out of her meager offering, she gets back more than she could have hoped for. Enough to make it to better times.
We are also, through baptism, united as brothers and sisters in Christ. We are all family here. And as with any family, the more we share of ourselves with one another the closer we become. The more rewarding the relationship.
And among our friends and family we don’t (hopefully) measure love according to economic value. Sometimes the time and the talent that go into hand-making a card is worth more than any monetary donation.