It's an age-old story: a woman has fallen on hard times after the death of her husband, and now dire consequences loom. In the case of the widow we encounter in 2 Kings 4, her debts are so great that a creditor has threatened to take her two children as slaves. She is so destitute that all she has in her house is a little olive oil.

Her husband was a member of a guild of prophets, so the widow goes to Elisha, the chief prophet in Israel, for help. She explains her predicament, and Elisha tells her to go to her neighbors and collect as many jars and other containers as she can get. She does as he instructs, and then he tells her to start pouring her little jar of oil into these vessels and not to stop until she runs out of them.

So she starts pouring, and it’s as if a spigot has been opened, because the oil starts to flow and doesn’t stop until she has filled every jar, pan, and bottle the neighbors have brought her. Elisha tells her to sell the oil, pay off her debts, and then live off the remainder of the proceeds. The wonder-working prophet has saved the day yet again.

As I was reading this story I began reflecting on its deeper meanings. What is the significance of the various elements of the story? What can we learn from the widow’s experience?

First and foremost, I think, is the assurance that God cares for vulnerable people like widows and orphans. If you have read the Bible much at all, you already know this, but it’s never wrong to be reminded of this truth. Over and over again in the Torah we find laws meant to provide for the poor, the widow, the stranger in the people’s midst. The prophets channel God’s indignation at the rich and powerful people’s uncaring treatment of these marginalized ones. In the gospels Jesus takes the side of widows and other powerless types, in one instance going so far as to raise a widow’s son from the dead so she would not be left without a protector. His brother James distills the essence of true religion as “to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world” (James 1:27).

In addition to all these examples, we need only look at the careers of Elisha and his predecessor Elijah to see how often they come to the aid of poor widows. Both of them perform great wonders for them, including the resuscitation of dead loved ones. It is hard to miss the truth that orphans and widows hold a special place in God’s heart.

Another thing I wonder about this story is how it relates to the life of faith. Elisha tells the widow to gather as many vessels as she can, and the oil stops flowing after the last of them has been filled. Is this a metaphor for faith? Were there more receptacles to be found, but she stopped before collecting them all? Presumably the oil would have continued flowing as long as she found more jars to hold it. Could she have exercised greater faith by going to neighbors farther afield? Could she have stretched herself a little more? It’s certain that she could have shortchanged herself by gathering fewer containers, but is the reverse also true?

I don’t know the answer to that, and the text gives no indication of judgment on the widow, but I still wonder. How many jars would I have collected? To what lengths would I have gone to see that the oil kept flowing? Would I have risked rejection or humiliation in my quest for more vessels? Would I have shown creativity by finding other holders for the oil—wineskins, perhaps—that were not as obvious?

When it comes to faith, by which I mean wholehearted trust, do you measure up to the example of the widow? How long would the oil flow for you? If the oil in this story represents life, how much life would your faith buy you? Just a few things to ponder during these days of Lenten reflection.