Words from WW Blog

“Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.” (Mark 12:43-44)

Recently, a mom went on social media to boast about her nine-year-old son’s generosity. In one way, a decision he had made was generous, but at the same time it also revealed his family’s out-of-whack excessive hoarding of possessions.

The mom posted a picture of her son’s 18 pairs of sneakers. He had decided to give almost all of them to an organization (like Goodwill) that gave them to less fortunate families at a fraction of the cost. The gesture was appreciated by those who couldn’t afford to go to Dick’s Sporting Goods and shell out $150 for a new pair.

The picture of the sneakers lined up in a couple of rows revealed that they all looked like they had never been worn. This prompted me to wrestle with the question, “Why does a nine-year-old need 18 pairs of sneakers?” That resulted in a second and more puzzling question: Why is the parent of a nine-year-old overstocking his closet with approximately two thousand dollars of footwear?

The story from Mark 12 has Jesus watching people placing their offerings in the large offering pots at the entrance of the temple. The well-to-do made quite a show of their contributions. Their coins made an elevated amount of noise as they dumped them in. Heads turned in response. In my mind, I can hear the applause of the crowd, as if someone today was presenting a million-dollar-gift at a charity fundraiser.

And then there is a widow with two small coins that were so insignificant that even the angels may not have been able to hear it. The widow’s mites offering would be comparable today to a child who dropped two pennies in the offering plate. However, Jesus makes the point that the widow gave out of her poverty, not her abundance. In fact, He said she put in everything. Perhaps it meant that she would go hungry that day. Maybe she didn’t even know if she would have anything to buy a piece of bread the next day.

We mistake sacrificial giving for giving out of our excess. Sometimes, in our society of abundance, we give what we no longer find useful, or when we figure out that we have too many of a certain item. For example, I’m a book hoarder. I’ve started giving away some of my books, but before you break into applause you should know that giving up some of the books on my shelves actually means I can replace them with some of the books that are already in stacks on the floor. Sacrificial giving for me would cutting my library down to the number of books I plan to read in the next five years (about 200), instead of keeping all 1,500 of them.

Honestly, when we give books, money, and a car we no longer use, there is something inside each one of us that hangs for recognition. We want people to notice what generous people we are. Like the mom who posts a picture of her son’s eighteen pairs of tennis shoes, we crave recognition.

And then there’s the way Jesus sees it. Recognizing the one who tries to be anonymous, the one who slips two small coins out of her garment’s tattered pocket, the one no one else would have even thought about.

“Unless the Lord had given me help,
    I would soon have dwelt in the silence of death.
 When I said, “My foot is slipping,”
    your unfailing love, Lord, supported me.
 When anxiety was great within me,
    your consolation brought me joy. (Psalm 94:14-17)

The Lincoln-Douglas Debates of 1858 consisted of seven debates in different parts of Illinois. Even though Stephen Douglas won the senatorial election that fall, Abraham Lincoln made a name for himself and the call to abolish slavery. In those days, the Illinois legislature made the final decision on who would be the elected official. Even though Lincoln had won the popular vote count, the legislature had more Democratic representatives than Republicans. Thus, Douglas was chosen.

Abraham Lincoln’s comment after the defeat was, “It’s a slip, not a fall.” Two years later, he won the presidential election.

There’s a difference between slipping and falling. The first is a momentary unsteadiness as a result of a misstep or misjudgment. A fall, however, is a plunge to the depths, an experience that often leads to brokenness. Sometimes, we mistake slips for falls. Sometimes our minds tell us that we are not valuable enough in God’s eyes to recover.

And then there’s the words from the psalmist: “My foot is slipping…” It hints at an imminent fall that is coming, a failure of obedience, a stumble toward stupidity. For me, the slip comes in a judgemental attitude that, in insidious ways, devalues someone, a group, an idea, or a way of life. Instead of seeing someone through the eyes of Jesus, I slip into a frown of disdain and disgust.

It’s as I’m slipping that the hand of Jesus reaches down to me and keeps me from falling.

“… Your unfailing love, Lord, supported me.”

The love of God is a rescuing hand and a brace of support. The Message paraphrase of the Psalm 94 verses resonates with me:

“The minute I said, “I’m slipping, I’m falling,”
    your love, God, took hold and held me fast.
When I was upset and beside myself,
    you calmed me down and cheered me up.“

We have a God who is intimately concerned with our slips and falls.

Back to Abraham Lincoln. On election night, after finding out that he had been elected as the sixteenth president, he left the telegraph office at 2 A.M. and made his way home. The last words that he was heard to say as he left were, “God help me! God help me!”

He was in desperate need of the embrace of God, the need for the Almighty to hold him up, because nine days later, South Carolina seceded from the Union.