Much is revealed about a person by observing what he or she notices. And that’s because what one spots is in large part determined by what that person values more and appreciates less.

A scene in Mark’s 12th chapter is a vivid example of that. I’m standing there with Jesus just inside the Treasury building. People are moving in and out and I look around. What catches my eyes and sounds in my ears?

Might I be taken up with the clinking sound of the gold and silver coins as they bounce against the sides of the collection bowl? Might my eyes be drawn to the vestments and multicolored prayer shawls of the clergy as they parade by? But more to the point, might I be attending to those higher up on the social and religious ladder? Who and what in that scene grabs my attention?

As people of faith, the one whose eyes and ears we strive to adopt are those of the Lord Jesus Christ. Out of all that Temple crowd, it’s the poor widow he notices, that worshipper way in the rear who so unobtrusively dropped her last two tiny coins into the basket. And wouldn’t Vincent de Paul’s gaze be locked on her also?

What is there about her that catches their attention?

For one thing, her invisibility in that crowd, her low station and place toward the back. She would be classed among the vulnerable, the ones with little voice in society – the poor. This of course fits both The Lord’s and Vincent’s feel for the ones to whom Jesus’ Father is giving special attention – the outcasts, the forgotten, the ones passed over.

For another, they note her generosity. Her contribution was not coming from what she had left over when everything else was covered. It was all she had; there was nothing else for her to give.

A third quality observed is her trust, her confidence in God’s care for her in the face of a very bleak future. And isn’t that The Lord’s attitude also, as he trustingly moves toward Jerusalem, his rejection and death on a cross.

As followers of Jesus and imitators of Vincent, we are asked to notice what mattered to them.  We try to see and hear what they did when walking into any of our own rooms — the neglected ones, the overlooked, the vulnerable who need our care.

Secondly, we’re to not only admire the generosity of others, but to imitate their bigheartedness, be ever more willing to help stranded others and less inclined to count the cost when doing so.

Finally, there’s trust in God’s care, the confidence we’re not alone when walking into any unknown future, that we are cherished and valued all the way to the end – and indeed far beyond it.

Let all of us step into this Temple room and look around. And to the extent we can, take on the sight and hearing of Vincent and of Jesus himself for our own estimation of what matters more and what counts less.