A Commentary and Reflection on the Readings for the 32nd Sunday of Ordinary Time – Year B. The Liturgical Sense of the Scriptures Podcast, by Catholic Author and Theologian David L. Gray. READINGS: 1 Kings 17:10-16, Hebrews 7:23-28, and Mark 12:38-44.
The Liturgy of the Catholic Mass is Unity of Service and Sacrifice
Today’s readings at Mass for the Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time – Year B, profoundly illuminate the intricate relationship between service and sacrifice, actions that lie at the heart of the Catholic liturgy. To live a liturgical life—to carry the Mass into our daily existence as we are called—is to embrace a life woven with melodies of service and sacrifice.
In the first instance from 1 Kings 17:10-16, the Prophet Elijah encountered a widow gathering sticks at the city entrance of Zarephath and called out to her, “Please bring me a small cupful of water to drink.” As she left to get it, he called out after her again, saying, “Please bring along a bit of bread.” She answered, “As the LORD, your God, lives, I have nothing baked; there is only a handful of flour in my jar and a little oil in my jug. Just now, I was collecting a couple of sticks to go in and prepare something for myself and my son; when we have eaten it, we shall die.”
Whereas we encounter the blind man Bartimaeus outside the city gates of Jericho (Mark 10:46-52), a place that symbolizes his ostracization due to the association of sin with his infirmity, the widow of Zarephath at the entrance of the city gates bears a similar weight of symbolism. As a widow, she, too, would have been marginalized, vulnerable, and unprotected. Her presence at the city gates, gathering sticks to prepare what she believes will be her last meal, underscores her dire situation. She expresses a poignant sense of hopelessness when she tells Elijah that she and her son are about to eat their last meal and then succumb to death. Much like Bartimaeus, her desperate moment at the city gates signifies a pivotal turning point in her life.
Faced with this woman in utter despair, Elijah could have offered words of encouragement or admonishment. Instead, he transforms her despair into an act of profound service and sacrifice by saying, “Do not be afraid. Go and do as you propose. But first, make me a little cake and bring it to me. Then you can prepare something for yourself and your son. For the LORD, the God of Israel, says, ‘The jar of flour shall not go empty, nor the jug of oil run dry, until the day when the LORD sends rain upon the earth.'” She heeded Elijah’s request, and miraculously, she, Elijah, and her son were sustained for a year; the jar of flour did not go empty, nor the jug of oil run dry, as foretold by the LORD through Elijah.
The widow’s willingness to share her last morsel of food with Elijah, despite her own desperate plight, showcases a faith stronger than her despair. All she needed was someone to serve—someone to lift her her up from the depths of self-pity and despair. God’s provision rewards her act of faith, symbolizing hope and redemption for those who feel abandoned or marginalized.
Alongside the illustrious figures of Ruth and Tamar, the nameless widow of Zarephath holds a revered place within Jewish tradition, teaching us profound lessons on faith and hospitality. This biblical account highlights the widow’s extraordinary courage and unwavering belief in times of great despair. Similarly, in the Gospel Reading from Mark 12:38-44, another humble widow’s act of selfless giving resonates deeply. As Jesus sat by the treasury, he observed the rich contributing large sums. Then, “A poor widow also came and put in two small coins worth a few cents. Calling his disciples to himself, he said to them, “Amen, I say to you, this poor widow 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.”
These nameless widows embody the essence of the Sursum Corda Prayer, when the priest exclaims, “Lift up your hearts!” In calling us to offer our very lives to God – our heart – the source of all life, he implores us to relinquish our self-absorption, which sleeps at the root of all despair and hopelessness. In response to the priest’s call, we become imitators of the poor widow by offering up our whole livelihood. By giving God what is most vital to our earthly existence – our heart – we are called to transcend our fears and embrace a life of divine grace and abundance.
Outside of the knowledge of what and who the liturgy is, the priest asking us to sacrifice ourselves should sound like the ravings of a crazed cult leader. On the contrary, we have a liturgy because of the service and sacrifice of Christ Jesus on the Cross, whose pierced Sacred Heart was lifted up to the Eternal Father so that all who believe in Him will have life and life abundant. As the Second Reading from Hebrews 9:24-28 teaches, “Christ did not enter into a sanctuary made by hands, a copy of the true one, but heaven itself, that he might now appear before God on our behalf.” Christ Jesus, who was without sin, was lifted up to Heaven as the Son of Man and the Son of God, thereby reconciling humanity with divinity and service with sacrifice so that we too could appear before God in the flesh during transient communion at the Holy Sacrifice and again at the eternal communion in Heaven.
This is just one way the readings at Mass this Sunday connect to the liturgy and how the liturgy is forming us on how to live our lives in the world. Be in the world what you have received through the liturgy.
