He sat down
opposite the treasury and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury.
Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small
copper coins, which are worth a penny. Then he called his disciples and said to
them, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are
contributing to the treasury. For all of
them have contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has
put in everything she had, all she had to live on.” (Mark
12:41-44)
My folks were pretty
conservative. They didn’t believe in government giveaways, and they thought
everyone should just pull their own weight and “yank themselves up by their
bootstraps” as the saying goes. They’d lived through the Great Depression, so
they weren’t in the mood to hear excuses from folks who couldn’t make their own
way into the great American middle class. That is, until my dad lost his job
through no fault of his own and our little clan ended up on public assistance.
I have to give my Old Man
credit. As embarrassed as he was by using food stamps, he never lost his sense
of humor and never lost the faith that some way, somehow, God was going to come
through for the Griffiths family and we’d be alright.
And God did. None of us ever
got rich by the standards of American capitalism, but we didn’t starve either.
We got our daily bread— which is more than a lot of people on this
planet get.
Essential faith—a real
belief in core values—is what I think about when I read these passages the
Revised Common Lectionary has given us for Pentecost 25 (1 Kings 17:8-16 and
Mark 12:38-44). Both stories star ladies who aren’t exactly making the Forbes
400 Richest People list. In the First Lesson we have the widow of Zarephath
who is just trying to get by as a single mom with a young son when a weird
prophet from the other side of the border comes and asks her for a handout.
If it’s been a while
since you’ve read 1 Kings, let me give you some back story: The prophet Elijah
is on the lamb from his home country (sort of a political refugee, if you will)
because he’s been in conflict with the current administration. God is punishing
Israel’s King Ahab for his apostacy and wickedness by shutting up the windows
of heaven which is causing a draught which leads to a famine which leads to a
region-wide economic catastrophe. God provides a little relief for Elijah by
letting him hang out by a small stream where he is fed by some charitable ravens
who, I guess, drop food on him when they come to the stream for a drink.
Unfortunately, the draught goes on, the stream dries up, the birds stop coming,
and even the man of God has to go hungry. Yup. The Bible lets us know that
sometimes bad things will happen to good, righteous people.
So what’s a prophet of
the Lord to do? Elijah skips across the border to the region of Sidon—a land
not historically friendly to Israelites—and asks this struggling mother for
some assistance. The widow lady doesn’t have two nickels to rub together, and,
if you ask me, she should be the last person Elijah should be mooching off of. Nevertheless,
even though she is understandably resistant, the widow opens her kitchen to the
hungry foreigner. I wonder if she wasn’t obeying an ancient custom of
hospitality practiced by folks in the Middle East. There was a custom, still
observed by many in the region to this day, that any stranger is to be welcomed
and given whatever hospitality can be afforded[i]. I think the widow of
Zarephath placed greater honor in doing the right thing by this stranger than
she placed on protecting her meager store of provisions. That’s a sign of
faith. If she’s going to starve, at least she’ll starve having done an act of
mercy.
You have to wonder what
was going through the head of the widow lady in the gospel story who dumps all
of her pocket change into the temple treasury. What were her values? Did she
care more about her relationship with the God to whom everything belongs than
she cared about her own wellbeing, or, living as she did in constantly strained
circumstances, had she simply learned to trust in God’s goodness?
Jesus contrasts this lady
with the scribes who are making some pretty sizeable donations to the temple’s
bank account. These guys aren’t living by faith. Instead, they’re making a
transaction. They’re saying, “Here’s a ton of money in exchange for social
prominence.” Maybe one of them is hoping the priests will add a new wing to the
temple and name it after him.
There are good reasons to
part with your resources and not-so-good reasons. The scribes were using their temple
gifts essentially as bribes. They were showing off and hoping to get prestige, maybe
envy, just a tiny bit more power, and some choice seating reservations as a
result of parting with cash they could well do without. That’s a pretty
unworthy use of the treasure God provides. Of course, I wouldn’t want to ask a
poor person to give up her grocery money on the chance that God might bless her
more for doing so. Making a sacrifice in the hopes of gain isn’t an offering. It’s
a bet—like dropping a quarter in a slot machine. That’s tempting God, and it’s
more superstition than faith.
On the other hand, real
generosity is a two-fold exercise in faith. First, you’ve got to believe your
gift makes a difference. For the widow of Zarephath, she was feeding a hungry
man. That’s an act of righteousness in anyone’s book. I like to think the widow
with the two little copper coins donated them because she believed in
supporting a place of worship where all people, rich or poor, could be told of
the mighty acts of God’s love for them. She had to believe what she did was in the
furtherance of something greater than herself.
But it’s not enough just
to trust your gift will do some good. You also have to trust it won’t do you
any harm. The widow who fed Elijah didn’t starve. Neither did her son. I dearly
hope the widow who gave the temple treasury all she had was blessed by having
her needs met, too. Maybe she had experienced God’s mercy in the past and knew
she could trust it in the future.
I’ll have to admit I
sometimes question God’s goodness. If you’d asked me in May of 2023 if we’d still
be having church this Sunday at Faith Lutheran of Northeast Philly, I wouldn’t
have given you good odds based on our financial projections. But God has come
through for us. We’ve received new members, and the jar of meal and jug of oil
have not yet run out. God has provided resources both financial and spiritual. If
ever a time should come when this little congregation must eat its last meal or
donate its last coins, I trust we’ll do so faithfully, lovingly, and joyfully.
[i]
For a full discussion of this tradition, check out this link: https://www.thetorah.com/article/abraham-and-lots-bedouin-style-hospitality.