10 Nov SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 2024
Let’s look at what today’s three readings have in common, shall we? In both the first and third readings, we hear of two widows. Other than orphaned children, widows were considered to be in the most vulnerable state a person could be in in the ancient near east.
They had no status; no one claimed responsibility for them nor was there anyone upon whom a widow or orphan could depend. That’s why God reminded others that widows and orphans deserved protection and prescribed that they should be cared for by laws which followed Hebrew traditions and dictated social norms. They were among those disadvantaged by fate whose burdens were meant to be absorbed by the general public: neighbors and anyone else considered better off than a widow or orphan.
In the first reading, God commanded a widow in Zarephath (sari-fath) to feed Elijah before he even knew he was going to live in Zarephath, which in Hebrew means forge or a place where metal is made or formed. I think it sounds kind of rude that Elijah asked a widow who was gathering sticks to build a fire to bring him a little water in a vessel and then call after her and say, “Bring me a morsel of bread in your other hand.” I suppose he took the word of the Lord seriously after being told that a widow, specifically this widow, had been commanded to feed him. Or perhaps he was testing her to see if she was the one whom God commanded.
Apparently she did not get the message in advance or it had only been planted within her subconscious, for the widow replied, “As the Lord your God lives, I have nothing baked, only a handful of meal, a little oil, and just enough sticks to go home, prepare a meal for me and my son, that we may eat and die.” In other words, she had nothing to spare. The amount of each and every thing she had in her possession was meager and pitiful.
Not unlike the poor widow who offered two small copper coins, worth a penny into the treasury. This was the extent of everything she had to live on.
Elijah said to the first widow, “Do not be afraid; go and do as you have said.” In other words, he assured her that he would not deprive her and her son of the meal she anticipated. But in an act of faith, she was first to make Elijah a little cake and bring it to him, then afterwards make something for herself and her son.
These verses are the foundation of prosperity gospel preaching where Christians are encouraged to, “Give to God first and watch what God does in return. Give a portion of whatever you have when prompted by a man of faith even if it means you won’t be able to pay your rent or other bills, because God is ultimately going to take care of you. God knows what you need. Have faith; God will multiply what you have if you’ll only be generous when asked.” This is how many TELevangelists acquired millions of dollars, bought fancy houses, boats, and other luxuries.
One major difference in their theology and ours however is that neither of these widows felt entitled. Neither claimed that acting on their faith would guarantee divine preferential treatment. They were simply being obedient as commanded by God. They trusted handing over everything they needed to live on: whether that was food or currency.
Elijah relayed a promise from the Lord God of Israel: The jar of meal will not be emptied and the jug of oil will not fail until the day that the Lord sends rain on the earth.” And the promise was fulfilled accordingly. Many days went by where Elijah, the widow, her son and others in her household ate from what was once only a day’s ration.
I had to chuckle over the first part of today’s gospel reading. Here was Jesus trying to teach a lesson about so-called experts of civil and religious affairs wanting to be seen in garb that made them stand out, be greeted with respect, wanting the best seats, and places of honor at banquets. That very night, I was attending a banquet myself.
There, all of the human attributes Jesus laid upon the scribes were on display. Many men were wearing suits. The host came over to me and introduced himself before politely apologizing for the fact that I was forced to sit where I had my back to the head table and presenters. There were no other female pastors present and no male pastors that may have recognized me from local ministerium gatherings bothered to say, “Hello.” I was further miffed that the organization who invited me only allows business and professional men to be members and that women are given only auxiliary roles. So there I was taking notice of how much religious leaders of today, including myself, are scribe-like. Ugh. “Beware of how they devour widow’s houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive greater condemnation.” Ugh. In the next scene, Jesus sat down opposite the treasury and watched the crowd putting money in. And evidently, he got a kick out of doing that.
Have you noticed that I tend to close my eyes as the offering is being collected? During COVID, I would stand holding the offering plates so people at home wouldn’t forget to mail in their envelopes, but since we’ve been meeting in person, I try not to make anyone nervous or give you the idea that I’m keeping track of who’s giving what.
I’ve found people’s giving habits and the way churches handle offerings to be very interesting. The large corporate church where I was a vicar stored all of it in a safe until Monday morning, when a group of 6-8 people would sort and count it all.
During church services, wooden or brass plates are passed like we do in ours. In other churches, a wicker basket or velvet bag with a drawstring cord hangs at the end of a long pole lowered and raised by the hands of exuberant ushers. The pole flies back and forth parallel to the front side of people in the pews.
I was in one church where people were expected to walk up the aisle and place their offering in a large basket placed directly in front of the altar. The basket was big enough for a couple loads of laundry. In case you miss your chance, there’s usually a locked collection box made of metal or wood with a center slot on top and a hinged lid near the exit.
Oftentimes, folks fold their checks in half or use envelopes with numbers rather than names to ensure donor privacy. But it’s rather humorous that there’s a line to write how much money is enclosed on the outside of offering envelopes.
For the most part, we are most comfortable giving in secret. What we designate as charity is between us and God or at least us and the IRS. Those who are most benevolent or generously charitable often choose to use discretion and not give for show. Proportionately, the rich do give less. The total amount or sum may be large, but percentage-wise, as Jesus says, they have contributed out of their abundance.
The poor widow put in more because she had less to start with. “Out of her poverty,” Jesus said, “she put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”
A dear woman I know shared this lesson about tithing with me. In the early days of her marriage, she and her husband were trying to raise a family of four on one man’s salary. She hadn’t grown up with abundance and was used to counting pennies. The day her husband got paid and brought home his paycheck, he sat her down at the kitchen table. He explained to her how he wanted to write out a check to place in Sunday’s offering plate before paying other bills.
She asked, “How can we afford it? Don’t you think we should make sure we have enough for ourselves, for what we and the kids might need first?” Like Elijah, he said, “Do not fear. Trust me. We’ll get by and have enough.” With great faith, compassionate warmth, loving guidance and patient confidence, he convinced his wife that giving to God was important and should come first. He believed that generosity toward the Lord would be good for their family and he was right. She was astonished at her young husband’s conviction. He and the practice of tithing changed her entire way of thinking.
Listen as I preach to myself. We don’t have to hold on tightly to whatever comes our way. We don’t have to strive in earnest to possess what we already have. We can loosen our grip and share without worrying about doing without, about being deprived or dying from lack of what we need. I worry about these things all the time. I also happen to love the idea of saving money and stockpiling goods. Whatever isn’t needed now, will surely be needed in the future.
Lord, have mercy. Let us pray. Lord, as you appear now in the presence of God on our behalf, you suffered and died once for all to remove sin by the sacrifice of your own life. You gave us everything you had, all that was necessary for life, through the free gift of eternity.
You never withhold or fail to give abundantly though we frequently feel compelled to ask for more. Help us trust your promise to provide and obey your command to share, to feed whom you entrust us to care for. Inspire us to love so that we may eagerly wait for you and not fear judgment for withholding. May we only conceal our generosity, not our wealth. In your holy name we pray, Amen.