1 Kings 17:8-16 Psalm 146 Hebrews 9:24-28 Mark 12:38-44
With these lessons, it is difficult to know where to begin? This morning we heard the story of Elijah asking the widow to prepare a morsel of bread for him – and despite the fact that she had to use the last bit of food she had in the house to feed her son and herself, she fed him. Then, we heard the story in Mark of the poor widow who gave all that she had to the temple. Both of these stories are of women who appeared to have nothing to offer – yet, they gave what they had. In the church today we often talk about sacrificial giving. But for most of us, sacrificial giving means we have to wait to buy a new coat, tools, or even a
In our world, it is difficult for most of us to imagine absolute poverty. We might see people with very limited resources; we might have even experienced times in our own lives where we could not pay all our bills – I have, but I made it through those times without going hungry. It was not until I worked at Crossroads Ministries in Downtown Atlanta counseling the homeless that I saw poverty in this country that rivaled that of third world countries. I had been working there for several weeks before I had an experience that changed my understanding of humanity. You see, I thought of myself as having something to offer the people I worked with – but I didn’t think they had anything to offer in return. They had nothing. Some did have jobs, but didn’t make enough to pay for housing – so they lived in homeless shelters and used our mailroom to receive their mail. People came to us for vouchers to receive clothing, food, and gain admittance to homeless shelters (when beds were available which was not the case was more often than not). They came to us for bus passes to get to and from work or job interviews. They came to us for help getting into drug and alcohol treatment facilities – not an easy task if you don’t have insurance.
Every morning when we opened our doors, 6 to 20 newly homeless people would walk in and sit through our orientation. More and more, we found women with children coming to us for help. In our orientation we had them fill out paperwork to get their names in our “system” where we could set them up to a hot lunch in our cafeteria next door. We told them about our services and the services available in the community to help them get job training, medical care, and more. We let them know we were there to help them get back on their feet, but that our services were only available for three months unless they were actively working with a counselor – following through with whatever plan we worked out together. Then we provided each of them with a sack lunch for their first day in our program and a meal card for the meals next door.
Those who needed housing, drug treatment or who needed to talk to someone waited in the orientation room until one of the counselors could see them. One morning, I walked into the room to get the next person in need and saw a man leaning back in a chair against the wall. Surprising enough, few of the people who came to us were dirty – but he had a full beard and his clothes were stained and wrinkled. I had not seen him at orientation, so I asked what he needed. He said he was hungry. I had just heard we were out of food and it was too late to get him anything next door, so I told him I was sorry, but there was no more food. “That lady over there said she would give me some,” he said nodding his head in the direction of the office of one of our counselors. I said okay and looked around to see who else was in the room – someone I might be able to help. Across the room sat an elderly woman in a dress looking like she was ready for church. A few feet in front of me stood a woman so thin and emaciated I immediately thought of pictures and videos I had seen of starving women in
Right then, I realized that the people I had come to serve, the people who I thought had nothing to give – were capable of giving more than I could ever imagine giving. Like the widow who gave the two copper coins, this frail malnourished woman had given out of her poverty – something I have never done. The woman across the room knew what I so often forget – everything we have is a gift from God and God intends for us to share our gifts.
In the Old Testament, there were standards for giving – sacrifices of livestock and grain were incorporated into the rituals of the Jewish people. These sacrifices were not superstitious acts; they were part of their prayers offered up to God. A portion of the burnt offering was engulfed in flames, symbolic of their prayers of thanksgiving. But a portion of the grain and meat was set aside for those who had devoted their life to the temple – the priests. And, on high festival days, a portion was consumed by all who had gathered to observe the feast day. The fellowship was an important part of the sacrifice.
Our modern day sacrifice is our pledge. A portion is offered up to God through the many ministries we offer, a portion supports the clergy, the staff, and the cost of our building and property – and all of this supports our ability to join together in worship and fellowship. The standard of the tithe, giving 10% of our income, is one that is good for some, impossible for others, and insufficient for still others. Pledging should not be done out of obligation according to a formula. Pledging is a form of prayer. It is an act of recognition that what we have is a gift from God, and an act of giving of ourselves to God. Like other forms of prayer, it should help us form a deeper relationship with God. And like many of our prayers, it may help to use a form, or structure, such as tithing or proportionate giving (giving a percentage, other than 10%, of our income). Giving should be relational, because it builds relationships. In the final analysis, pledging is an act of faith and be should be done with prayerful thanksgiving for what we have, because as the homeless woman in
