Striving for Stress-Free Prayer
Do I have the courage to live a life of stewardship?
This question has been running through my mind ever since I attended a recent Sunday liturgy. The readings on this day, “Stewardship Sunday,” revolved around giving oneself wholly to God.
The First Reading, from 1 Kings 17, tells the story of the Widow of Zarephath. Elijah, the prophet, meets her while she is gathering sticks to prepare a final meal before her death. Despite the widow’s complete lack of resources and social standing, Elijah asks her to bake him a cake. The widow bakes Elijah a cake, and God ultimately provides for all of her needs. The Gospel reading, from Mark 12, recounts the story of Jesus observing people who put money in the treasury at the Temple. Jesus affirms the actions of a poor widow, whose two coins—which she places in the treasury—are all that she owns.
Usually, these readings bounce in my mind with a rosy-colored, peaceful light, and I don’t think about God’s call in a challenging way. Thoughts will run through my head, like: Oh, how nice of those widows. Dear God, help me to trust You in all things. On this particular day, though, I began to see these readings—and the call to stewardship—in a new light. My pastor, Fr. Novak, bluntly outlined the radical message proclaimed by the two widows from these Scripture readings. First, he reminded the congregation of the low status represented by widows in biblical times:
“A woman without a husband and a child without a parent were on the lowest rung of society because without anyone to support them they would quickly die.”
My pastor continued to describe how these widows—in all of their vulnerability and nothingness—gave their material goods to God. The widow of Zarephath had nothing—and yet she gave all that she owned. The widow in the Gospel had two coins—which she placed in the treasury. Both of these women courageously embraced a radical stewardship; they gave themselves completely to God without worrying about the future.
When faced with the call to stewardship—giving our time, talent, and treasure to God—we can easily think about ourselves and our future first. In fact, as my husband and I recently set up automatic payments for tithing—giving ten percent of our income to the church—I began to think about the impact of this action. We’re college graduates, and we have loans to pay off. We have a future to save money for. All of this money could do so many other things. Knowing that a certain amount of money each pay period would go straight to our parish was uncomfortable. However, as my pastor encouraged us on “Stewardship Sunday:”
“One of the most difficult things for us to give is our money and yet this too is part of what it means to be a good steward… And I’m not talking about giving from what you have leftover, or what you don’t need, or what just happens to be in your pocket when the basket gets passed. I’m talking about sacrificial giving. The kind of giving that requires a commitment on your part and reflects your need to give because you understand that God has given you everything you need—stop holding back and expecting someone else to take up the slack—make a regular monetary commitment to help support the work of our parish.”
I have medical bills to pay. I don’t have any special talents. I’m too busy, so I don’t have the time. All of these explanations—and any others we can create—are reasonable. Yet, it is important that we recognize what may be a harsh reality: all of these justifications do not exempt us from our obligation to stewardship. We may struggle financially, and in reality, many people struggle financially. Does this mean that we should neglect a financial commitment to our parishes, and instead leave all regular financial giving to the few wealthy families whom we may know? We may be quite busy in our own lives, and many parishioners are busy with their jobs, families, and social activities. Does this mean that we should leave stewardship of time to the old church ladies and retired men? We all have gifts and talents of which we may be unaware, and many people lack leadership skills and initiative. Does this mean that we should leave stewardship of talent only to the extremely outgoing leaders in our parish communities?
As my pastor put it, “Too often we sit back and let someone else do it, or we think we don’t have enough time or that we have nothing to give or that there won’t be enough for me, BUT instead think of your life this way: without God we are nothing.”
This liturgical year, I encourage you to prayerfully open yourself up to greater stewardship. Honestly evaluate your life, and see where you can give to God more wholeheartedly and trustingly. Challenge yourself to not give God your surplus money, talents, and time, but instead, to give Him the first fruits of your lives and labors. This can be incredibly scary and daunting and I don’t pretend to be skilled at it. I get scared and uncomfortable, but I try to remember that I am doing the best possible thing I can with my money, talent, and time—I am giving it to God, who always provides, and always will provide. Know that if you courageously accept the call to stewardship, like the two widows in the Bible, God will not abandon you.