🗓️19 nov
St. Elizabeth of Hungary, widow


👑Daughter of the King of Hungary and wife of Louis, Landgrave of Thuringia, St. Elizabeth is one of the most luminous examples of charity and detachment in the history of Christendom, having died in 1231. While still young and at the height of her social position, she dedicated herself to works of mercy, helping the poor and sick with her own hands, which culminated in the famous miracle of the roses, where loaves of bread hidden in her cloak turned into flowers before the suspicion of others. After the premature death of her husband in the crusade, she faced the cruelty of her brothers-in-law, being expelled from the castle and deprived of her possessions, a situation she embraced with a Franciscan spirit, becoming a tertiary of the order of the Poverello of Assisi. She built a hospital in Marburg, where she served the most wretched until the end of her days, dying at the age of 24, consumed by love for God and neighbor, being canonized only four years later by Gregory IX.

✉️Epistle (I Tim 5, 3-10)
Dearly beloved: Honour widows that are widows indeed. But if any widow have children or grandchildren, let her learn first to govern her own house, and to make a return of duty to her parents; for this is acceptable before God. But she that is a widow indeed, and desolate, let her trust in God and continue in supplications and prayers night and day. For she that liveth in pleasures, is dead while she is living. And this give in charge, that they may be blameless. But if any man have not care of his own, and especially of those of his house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel. Let a widow be chosen of no less than threescore years of age, who hath been the wife of one husband. Having testimony for her good works, if she have brought up children, if she have exercised hospitality, if she have washed the saints' feet, if she have ministered to them that suffer tribulation, if she have diligently followed every good work.

📖Gospel (Mt 13, 44-52)
At that time, Jesus spoke to His disciples this parable: The kingdom of heaven is like unto a treasure hidden in a field. Which a man having found, hid it, and for joy thereof goeth, and selleth all that he hath, and buyeth that field. Again the kingdom of heaven is like to a merchant seeking good pearls. Who when he had found one pearl of great price, went his way, and sold all that he had, and bought it. Again the kingdom of heaven is like to a net cast into the sea, and gathering together of all kind of fishes. Which, when it was filled, they drew out, and sitting by the shore, they chose out the good into vessels, but the bad they cast forth. So shall it be at the end of the world. The angels shall go out, and shall separate the wicked from among the just. And shall cast them into the furnace of fire: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Have ye understood all these things? They say to him: Yes. He said unto them: Therefore every scribe instructed in the kingdom of heaven, is like to a man that is a householder, who bringeth forth out of his treasure new things and old.

🕯️Reflections

💎Today's liturgy presents to us, through the parables of the hidden treasure and the pearl of great price, the radicality required for the conquest of the Kingdom of Heaven, which finds a perfect echo in the life of St. Elizabeth. The merchant in the Gospel, upon finding a pearl of great value, does not hesitate to sell everything he possesses; likewise, Elizabeth, born in a royal cradle, understood that the riches of the Thuringian court were nothing compared to the love of Christ. St. Augustine, in his sermons on these parables, teaches that this "price" to pay is not merely monetary, but the surrender of the "self": "The Kingdom of God is worth as much as you are. Give yourself, and you shall have the Kingdom" (Sermon 105). The saint of today personifies this exegesis, for upon being expelled from her castle, she not only accepted material poverty but stripped herself of her pride and position, "buying the field" where the treasure of divine grace was hidden, becoming rich in Franciscan poverty.

⚓The Epistle of St. Paul to Timothy traces the profile of the "true widow," describing virtues that seem like an anticipated biography of St. Elizabeth: "if she have washed the saints' feet, if she have ministered to them that suffer tribulation." The Church, in her wisdom, selects this text to show that holiness does not reside in sterile isolation, but in active charity that springs from constant prayer. St. Thomas Aquinas reminds us that the active life, when ordered by charity, is not an obstacle but a means of sanctification, for "the love of God and of neighbor are not two loves, but a single act of charity" (Summa Theologica, II-II, q. 25). Elizabeth was not content to give orders for the poor to be served; she herself washed the feet of lepers and fed the hungry, fulfilling the Pauline requirement to follow "every good work." She teaches us that widowhood and suffering are not an end, but a new state of consecration where the soul, destitute of human consolations, must "trust in God and continue in supplications and prayers night and day."

🔥Finally, the parable of the net cast into the sea reminds us of the final judgment and the necessary separation between the wicked and the just, an eschatological reality that must guide our moral conduct. The "fire" and the "gnashing of teeth" mentioned by Christ are not empty threats, but the tragic consequence of a life attached to "bad fish," that is, to the vices and worldly pleasures also condemned by St. Paul ("she that liveth in pleasures, is dead"). The Catechism of the Catholic Church reinforces that it is by our works and our response to grace that we shall be judged. St. Elizabeth, as a "scribe instructed in the Kingdom of Heaven," knew how to bring forth from her treasure "new things and old": she maintained the dignity of her lineage (old things) by transforming it into humble service (new things), ensuring her place among the "good" whom the angels will gather into the vessels of eternity. Her life invites us to examine what our "net" has been catching daily: whether works of vanity that will be discarded, or pearls of charity that will withstand the fire of judgment.

🇺🇸 See English version of the critical articles here