An Overflowing Yes

A Reflection on the First Reading for Sunday, November 10th, 2024:
Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

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1 Kings
17.10-16

Elijah, the Prophet, set out and went to Zarephath. When he came to the gate of the town, a widow was there gathering sticks; he called to her and said, “Bring me a little water in a vessel, so that I may drink.” As she was going to bring it, he called to her and said, “Bring me a morsel of bread in your hand.”

But she said, “As the Lord your God lives, I have nothing baked, only a handful of meal in a jar, and a little oil in a jug; I am now gathering a couple of sticks, so that I may go home and prepare it for myself and my son, that we may eat it, and die.”

Elijah said to her, “Do not be afraid; go and do as you have said; but first make me a little cake of it and bring it to me, and afterwards make something for yourself and your son. For thus says the Lord the God of Israel: ‘The jar of meal will not be emptied and the jug of oil will not fail until the day that the Lord sends rain on the earth.’”

She went and did as Elijah said, so that she as well as he and her household ate for many days. The jar of meal was not emptied, neither did the jug of oil fail, according to the word of the Lord that he spoke by Elijah.

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

When someone asks something of me when I’m already spread so thin I might break, my automatic answer is no. There’s no way. I’m not resourced enough to take on one more thing. If I take on one more thing, everything might just fall apart.

I imagine the widow in today’s story felt the same exasperation when Elijah came to her. As a widow, she was solely responsible for her household and for her son. There was a drought and famine in the region, adding to her already precarious position. When Elijah came, asking for water during a drought and bread during a famine, he found her in a state of despair. Things had gotten so bad, she accepted that death was inevitable for herself and her son. I can’t imagine that feeling - that total hopelessness and resignation.

And yet, when Elijah nudged her to make him some bread, she did it. He declared a prophetic word over her that her grain and oil would not run out until the drought ended. Had she taken to heart the prophetic word spoken by Elijah? Was she so overburdened with responsibility that this ask broke her spirit?

Whatever her reasons, she did as Elijah asked. And as Elijah promised her - her grain and oil didn’t run out until the drought ended. But there was no time for her to rejoice. In the very next section of this chapter of Kings, her son fell ill and died. Her grief overflows with angry words. But the Lord works a miracle through Elijah - resurrecting the boy from death. According to some traditions, this young boy who was resurrected is the famous prophet Jonah.

This Scripture calls me into deeper self-reflection. Is my instinctual “no” to an unpleasant or burdensome task always good for me? There are plenty of times when I know that my “no” is good - when I am not the right person or I am not who God wants to call into it. But there are also times when I want to say “no” where I should instead say “yes”.

How can I tell the difference? I don’t have the gift of prophecy. If anything, I have a brain constantly trying to balance best and worst case scenarios. But that’s not what I’m called to either. I’m called to seek the Lord’s will - to discern through prayer and in conversation with trusted spiritual companions. 

When I find that the answer the Lord gives me in discernment is “yes”, then I can hear the words He uttered through Elijah and echoing down through the ages: “Do not be afraid!” Those words are a powerful invitation to give when I think I have nothing worthy, when my resources are thin, and when my spirit is weary. They are words that invite me to trust in the Lord’s provision - that every earthly and human limitation will be overcome by the Lord. If He wills it, He will make it happen. That’s a “yes” I can give. A “yes” that is unburdened by fear and filled with trust. A “yes” from which God’s goodness overflows and blesses myself and the world.



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Stéphanie Potter

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