The associated reading for this reflection can be found in your Every Sacred Sunday Mass journal or online here.
Sometimes the hardest part about Mass is just getting there. You get all the red lights, the train leaves early or is running late, the diaper bag disappears, or you forget that the time changed.
And then at church, we often have our “own pew.” It’s our go-to pew, the one we’ve gravitated to since forever, the one near friends or family, or close enough for the bathroom dash. But when our “own pew” is taken, we’re thrown off. We sit in a different pew, then try to figure out which response or reading is happening. Maybe we even left our ESS journal in the car. This can prompt a change: Our physical perspective is different, the view and sound aren’t the same, and something else can change inside, too. We find ourselves mouthing the words listlessly (“Thanks be to God!”) while accidently remembering something for the grocery list. Suddenly, Mass isn’t the focus and we’re just there. That’s it. We’re just there.
The readings for today tell of the widow with little flour and oil who expected to die after her last meal, as well as the widow who gave her only two coins.
Today, it's all too easy to believe that our attendance at Mass doesn't matter and that the Triune God, and the Church, won't notice if we miss Mass. What happens when we don't show up for Church? Or maybe we should ask this instead: What happens when we do show up for Church?
The prophet Elijah asked the ailing widow for water and bread. She showed up and shared what she could, expecting to die afterward. Soon, however, she found she had enough flour and oil for a year. And the widow’s two coins, all that she had, amounted more than any rich person’s large sums, Jesus said. She gave all she had despite having little to offer.
So what are your two coins? Is your flour and oil (read: energy, faith and strength, *insert your gifts here*) running low? Even when we struggle to focus, to pray, to be fully conscious and actively participate in Mass, we can always offer God the gift of simply showing up. Then perhaps, the best pew in church may just be the one that we're sitting in.
James Ramos is a Texas-based photo-journalist and designer. He loves good soup, swimming, dogs, a great looping TikTok, and anything by Father Henri Nouwen. Follow him on Instagram for more of his photography and writing.