Extravagant Giving

The men of wealth
Are not too extravagant
Dumping buckets of gold at the altar
The widow is not praised for her long face
It is the wealthy donors
Whose giving is not extravagant enough
They are the ones who scorn the celebration
Settling for mortal trumpets
And human praise

It's not about fasting
It's not about penance
It's about celebration
It's about dancing and shouting and giggling

It's about manna from Heaven
That is to be spent the day it arrives
It's about perfume on the feet of our Lord
After all, He set the example
Though every gift He received
Was rightfully His from the beginning
With the gift of a poor boy's lunch
He gave out a feast
And what He did save up
The prophecies and stories and miracles
Which He had stored up since the Fall
He poured back out
In the most extravagant gift of all
The blood
The body
The empty tomb

It should absolutely be costly
At times it might even be painful
But it's not about the pain
It's about the celebration

Our God delights
In extravagant gifts