A Certain Widow
a sermon basaed on Mark 12:38-44
by Dr. David Rogne

Rabbis tell a story to answer the question, "How did God decide where to put His temple in Jerusalem?"

Two brothers were partners in a grinding mill in Jerusalem.  At the end of each day, they took the grain they had milled and divided it equally into separate sacks. One night the bachelor brother thought to himself: “ The way we are doing this is not right.  I am alone and don't need much, but my brother has a wife and family. He deserves the larger share."  So sneaking back to the mill each night, he took part of his share and poured it into his brother's sack.          

The married brother also thought one night: “The way we are doing this is not right.  When I am old, I will have children to support me. but my brother will have no one. He should have the larger share.” So, sneaking back to the mill each night he took part of his share and poured it into his brother's sack. They thought it a miracle to find their sacks filled each morning.

One night, however, the brothers left home at the same time to sneak back to the mill, and by coincidence, met on the street with their sacks in hand.  Instantly, they knew what was happening and fell into each other's arms weeping.  God looked down upon the scene, according to the story, and said, "Here is where love meets - here I will build my temple."

Jesus sat outside that temple one day and saw a gift of love being made by a poor widow - a gift of love to God. Within the temple enclosure, but outside the building proper, there were thirteen trumpet-shaped receptacles to receive voluntary offerings, for a number of worthwhile projects. As Jesus watched, a number of wealthy people came up and made sizeable contributions, but the implication is that there wasn't much love behind the gifts.

Then, along came a poor widow who put in two of the smallest coins in their monetary system. Yet, with her small gift she stepped from obscurity into the light of history. Jesus saw the love of God in her gift. Mark says that Jesus called the disciples to him, almost as though there were a sense of excitement which he wanted his disciples to appreciate.  “This poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury”" he said, “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."

We are currently involved in a stewardship campaign, seeking pledges for the support of God's work.  It is an appropriate time to examine this incident to see what lessons may be learned by us.

The first thing this incident does is to remind us that the fullest life Involves giving.

I am sure we know from experience that people feel most deeply involved in those things to which they are making some, contribution.  A man in a well-paying position told me he had trouble making himself go to work in the morning.  He sometimes slept late, sometimes just puttered.  He, at one time, had enjoyed his work. But in this particular situation the man's workload had shifted so that he wasn't sure he was contributing anything to the job. so now his work has become a burden instead of a challenge.

Jesus said, "It is more blessed to give than to receive." (Acts 20:35) That means that one can find greater happiness in the ability to give than to get. In fact, it can be downright distressing to a person of integrity always to receive and never have opportunity to give.    Some ladies of a church I used to serve, periodically held a tea party for the aged at a local convalescent hospital.  Everyone who participated rejoiced in the opportunity to be of some service.  But those who were served also needed the opportunity to give.  One of the old gentlemen being served began placing $5.00 bills under his napkin each time the ladies came. The first tendency was to refuse it and. say; "Oh, no, we want to do this for you." But it was recognized by the ladies that he needed an outlet too; so his contributions were accepted.

In her book, We Grew Up in America, Alice Hazeltine tells about a custom of her mother's.  Her mother kept a charity box on their dining table, the contents of which went to others.  Nothing pleased the mother more than to be able to put something into that box.  Sometimes the family protested that they did not have enough to be putting anything in the box for others.   But never was the family so poor that they needed the contents of that box for themselves.  On especially dark days, when they lacked, literally a penny of their own, the mother would gather up the coins that had been put into the box and take them ,- always on foot to save carfare - to a family less favored than her own had been. Miss Hazeltine says simply: “The light always shined more brightly when she returned, no matter how dark the day." It is not without reason that Karl Meninger noted that generous people are rarely mentally ill.  Life is always fuller when we learn to give.

The capacity to give freely, however, requires that we recognize how generously we have received.  This is the point which the writer of Deuteronomy wished to drive home.  In the Sixth chapter he wrote to the people of Israel:   "When the Lord your God has brought you into the land which he swore to your ancestors,. . . large cities, that you did not build, and houses filled with all sorts of goods  that you did not fill... vineyards and olive groves that you did to plant. . .take care that you do not forget the Lord, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.”  (Deuteronomy 6:10-12)

When we give careful thought to our possessions do we not have to admit that much has come to us over which we had no control? The stability of our government; the growth of our community and nation; God's endowment of the land; the maintenance of law and order; our own strength and good health.

George Bernard Shaw denned a gentlemen as "one who puts back into life more than he takes out." One could go a step further and say that a gentleman is one who feels he never can put back into life all that he has taken out. The basic question for us must not be "How much money can I make," but "How much can I make of my money." It is important to the full life to be able to give.

Not only does this poor widow remind us that the fullest life involves giving, she shows that real giving is sacrificial. We are accustomed to starting at the wrong end with our giving. We're afraid giving is going to hurt, so we protect ourselves.  For example, a great appeal may be made for clothing, so we go through our closets getting out all the things we no longer want.  Now that's important; it's certainly better than not looking at all! But it is not the last word in Christian giving.

Or we may be going to the store and while we are backing out of the driveway we call to our neighbor:  "Is there anything I can get for you?" That is thoughtful. It's neighborly. But it is not the sacrificial donation of our energy that would be involved for example, in going shopping for a sick neighbor when we had intended to stay home and watch the ball game.

Or consider how we sometime encourage supporting the work of the church. We fix our eyes on an amount to be raised annually and we look for the most painless way of extracting it from the possible givers. We cite the percentages of exemption allowed by the government and stress the thought: "Why not give it to a good cause since taxes will take it anyway." Now, I’m not saying that this is not a necessary consideration in our complicated economy, but it is hardly the motivation for sacrificial giving, such as Jesus praised in this poor widow.

The value of a gift cannot be measured by its market price, but by its cost to the giver. David, the king of Israel, understood that.  There was a terrible plague abroad in the land and David received the message through one of the prophets that he should build an altar and make a sacrifice at the threshing floor of Araunah the Jebusite. Araunah was honored that his place should be chosen, and he offered the king the site, the wood for the fire, the building material for the altar and the animals for the sacrifice. David thanked Araunah, but turned the offer down saying; "No, but I will buy it from you for a price; I will not offer burnt offerings to the Lord my God which cost me nothing." Real giving involves personal sacrifice.

When we sacrifice to make a gift it takes on value for the one to whom we give. A missionary teacher in Africa writes about a beautiful shell which one of her African students gave her for Christmas. She was excited over the beauty of it and asked him where he had found it. He told her that such shells could only be found at one particular beach, several miles away. When the teacher responded, "Oh, you shouldn't have gone so far for a gift for me," the boy said simply. “The long walk was part of the gift."

Jesus saw the wealthy giving generous gifts from their abundance.  He did not disparage their gifts, but neither did he call his disciples to take notice of them. But this poor widow was out on the frontier of sacrifice where few of us ever get. Jesus said she gave more than all the rest.
 

The third thing we learn from this incident is that everyone has something to give.  From our limited point of view we are impressed by costly gifts.  Our eyes are fixed on the amount rather than on the relative cost. When Leland Stanford's only son died, all the joy went out of his life. He felt he had nothing to live for. One night, in a dream, his son appeared to him and told him to live for humanity, to live for other people's children. There soon arose at Palo Alto the Leland Stanford University at a cost of twenty million dollars.  Mr. and Mrs. Stanford became devoted servants of the poor, the orphaned, the suffering, and left all their property to go on doing good to the rising generation

Thank God there are those who can made large gifts to worthy projects, and who actually do so. But Jesus' pattern for generosity is a woman who gave the equivalent of a penny. And there is wisdom here.  Had Jesus chosen, a wealthy person who made a generous gift and told us, "Go and do likewise," we would probably say. "Of course we will, Jesus, just as soon as we are equally well off."

Jesus' choice of a poor widow helps us to realize that every one of us has something to give right now. Christina Rosetti wrote a Christmas poem that has become a lovely Christmas carol. The third verse begins:   What can I give him, poor as I am?  If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb. Much later, Emerson wrote. "The only gift is a portion of thyself :  a poet brings his poem; the farmer his corn: the miner his gem." In our time such things are usually turned into money, which gives us further opportunity.  Harry Emerson Fosdick once referred to money as "congealed sweat." "It is one of the miracles of our day," he said, "that a person busy at his daily tasks at home can also be preaching the gospel in Alaska, healing the sick in Korea, teaching in the schools of Persia, feeding, the hungry of India, and building a new civilization at the headwaters of the Nile." All this can happen because our money is an extension of ourselves, and when we give it, we are giving ourselves.

I close with this. When the King of Thailand came to America for an eye for an eye operation some years ago, his American surgeon, accustomed to setting prices somewhat by ability to pay, couldn’t decide exactly how much to charge His Royal Highness - $1,000 to be a good neighbor? Or $5,000 to match his usual high fees? or $10,000 to prove that the operation was worth the trip? After all, a king is a king

Someone suggested that he check with the king's New York lawyer, who might have some thoughts on the matter, and so he did.  "No problem," said the lawyer. "The king is an honorable man. Like you, he understands value. Simply send him an invoice with no amount indicated, and then add a handwritten footnote, ‘The king can do no wrong.’" The doctor did just that. Back came a check for $75,000! The surgeon was overjoyed.  He bought his wife a mink coat, ordered two new Cadillacs and blew the rest on a trip around the world.

 Upon arrival home, his pocketbook flattened, but happy and refreshed, he opened his mail. In it was a bill from the lawyer . .. with no amount indicated, but with a hand-written footnote:  “The honorable doctor can do no wrong.”

As we are called upon to make our financial commitment to the church for the coming year, we may feel, a little like that doctor.  So much of value has been received, but nobody is standing over us telling us how much to give in return. It comes down to a matter of conscience, and that is what makes what we put on that pledge card so important. Will our financial commitment cost us enough to make it meaningful?  "Honorable church members can do no wrong."