Pentecost XXII, Cycle B

"The Gift that Counts is the Gift that Costs"

November 9, 2003

The Rev. Dr. David M. Wendel

Saint Luke’s Lutheran Church, Colorado Springs, Colorado

Lessons:  I Kings 17:8-16;  Hebrews 9:24-28;  St. Mark 12:38-44

     The temple in Jerusalem was a massive stone building that dominated the skyline.  As you entered the huge pillars at the front of the Temple complex,  you were awed by the size, and the sense of majesty and power.  All of the gates into the temple courts were gold, except the eastern, the Nicanor gate, which was bronze.  It was a building not unlike some of our own cathedrals and churches and capital buildings that caused you to feel small and insignificant--dwarfed might be a better word.  The kind of place where each step on the polished stone floors, brought an unreasonably loud rap--and a series of resounding echoes.  It would've been hard to walk, quietly, in the huge temple. In fact, any talking, or rustling, or moving about would've caused a racket.  Especially so, in the one hall referred to as "the Treasury", where the chests were kept to collect the offerings to support the temple worship.  Big metal chests, each with a trumpet shaped tube, into which were dropped coins--voluntary contributions to assure that the temple ministry would continue.  Some dropped a coin or two, others put in large sums.  It could be quite a show--and create quite a ruckus.  Do you remember, as a child, putting coins into the offering plate at church?  Well, magnify that sound a hundred or a thousand times! 

     In this magnificent place, where common, ordinary people felt humbled, there were those who paraded around like they owned the place.  These were the scribes, experts in the Law of Moses, to whom people turned for proper interpretation of God's will as revealed in Scripture.  Like the Pharisees and the Saducees, and the priests who worked in the Temple, these were men who felt superior to the common folk, and so, sought out recognition, position, and place, worthy of their high standing.  In synagogues, the scribes sat in front of the assembly, facing the people, right near the ark where the Torah scrolls were kept.  At banquets, the best seats were reserved for people of importance, like the scribes.  Even in the marketplace, those of lower degree were to extend a greeting, first, to those of higher degree.  And, it was hard to miss, who these persons of higher degree were;  they liked to strut, and see and be seen.  They wore the finest, fanciest robes that indicated they didn't have to do manual work for a living--they were scholars of the Torah!  So, was it any wonder they also made quite a show when they went to the Temple?

     Jesus had just spoken scornfully of these scribes, teaching the people to "Beware of these, who like to prance about and have places of honor, and receive earthly praise."  Jesus said, "They devour widows' houses, yet to appear righteous, say long prayers."  And then, Jesus sat himself down opposite the treasury chests--and watched the crowd.  Watched the many rich people, putting their large numbers of coins into the metal tubes, almost basking in the clinking, rattling, noisy echoing of their money, falling conspicuously into the offering chests.  Even if someone had not seen them making their gifts, in this great stone hall, the magnitude of their offering would have been obvious, and unmistakable--that here was someone important, making a significant contribution.  Hear the coins, handful after handful, dropping--clanging into the money box?  The scribes and other wealthy folks wanted people to see--how big an offering they made.  And as Jesus sat, opposite the treasury--he saw exactly what was happening.  Indeed, he saw right through them--saw their hearts--saw what they were doing, and why.  And then he saw--a poor widow who approached and put in two small copper coins--two coins worth but a penny--the two smallest coins in circulation.  Jesus may have barely heard--what would have been the faintest noise of all--the falling of two small coins, into the offering chests.  Yet, Jesus said, this was the greatest gift of all!  "Truly, I tell you," Jesus remarked, "this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury.  For all of the others--the rich, the scribes, the important people have contributed out of their abundance;  but she out of her poverty, has put in everything she had--all she had to live on."  His comments make it crystal clear--the gift that counts, is the gift that costs.  And--isn't that a hard message for most of us to hear?

     I'm glad, in a way, that our stewardship pledge Sunday was last week--so that you can't accuse me of trying to squeeze a bigger pledge out of you, by making you feel guilty for giving out of your abundance, rather than out of your poverty.  But--honestly, isn't that how most of us give?  Out of our abundance, not out of our poverty?  Most of us make decisions about giving based on how much we can afford to spare.  Our first priorities are our home--our car--our retirement accounts--our children's education.  We look at our income, then at all our expenses--then we conclude, "Well, I can't really afford to give more than this right now.  Let those give who can afford it."  Most of us put into the treasury chest at church what is convenient--what is comfortable.  You might be shocked and dismayed to find out how many Lutherans put but a dollar or two a month into the offering plate--and how many in our congregation give nothing--not a penny to support this temple, where they come to worship, receive God's gifts of grace, then go on their way.  The point is not to make those who give but a small amount feel guilty;  the point is not to make the widow who does well to put her two pennies into the offering plate, feel ashamed or unworthy.  The point is to challenge those of us who truly, have in abundance, to give from our abundance in such a way that it is truly, a sacrifice!  The gift that counts, is the gift that costs.  If we are giving from our abundance, an amount that is comfortable or convenient--how does that compare with the widow who gives, from her poverty, from her limited retirement income, two coins worth a penny?  Again, the point is not to shame or minimize the person who truly has very little, but still gives as they are able;  the question Jesus is driving home is, "why do you who have such an abundance, give so little?"  Why is it those of us who are truly, well-off, who are rich by worldly standards--still so stingy?  The fact is, Jesus calls us to give ourselves away--to give till it hurts--to give, sacrificially;  because he knows that it is that gift, that God blesses--no matter the size or value of the gift.  If all you have to give is two coins, that gift, God blesses.  If all you have is, like the widow of Zarephath, a handful of meal in a jar, and a little oil in a jug--that gift, God blesses, providing both for the needs of the widow and her son, as well as for Elijah!  If you have bank accounts, investments, manifold possessions, more house than you need--yet give only what is comfortable and convenient--that, Jesus says, is the lesser gift…because it does not cost you.  Because it is given without any real sacrifice.  And why is cost--sacrifice--so important?  Why is it that giving of ourselves shouldn't be just what is comfortable and convenient?

     Jesus says time and again, that true life comes not from holding on, but from letting go.  Jesus says those who would save their life in this world, will loose eternal life.  Jesus says, sell all you have, give it away, then come follow me.  Jesus says where your heart is, there will your treasure be…so, put your treasure in God's hands, and that's where your heart will be also.  Jesus says again and again, building bigger and bigger barns, and amassing greater and greater wealth, may serve you well, in this life--but gains you nothing for eternal life.  Far better is it to give yourself away--to give back to God everything you have, and are, so that He can use it as He intends--for his eternal purposes--and the you will be freed from striving for wealth, power, position and worldly honor, freed for--humble and honest living, in God's service, in God's kingdom.

     Let me say once again, no one here at Saint Luke's really cares about what you give, or how you give--in response to Jesus' wonderful gift, of himself, on the cross.  I would venture to say no one, here, will notice whether you put something in the offering plate ever, or not.  In fact, our plates are padded, so there's little clinking or clanking--no great echoing of coins through the church building.  Jesus is saying--and I find this helpful in my own stewardship of life--Jesus is saying, only he is sitting there, watching what we give.  Giving is not to be a show for others, a sign of importance or wealth, a way of gaining human recognition.  Giving is between you, and Jesus, who sees what we give--and sees through, what we give.  He, alone, knows whether we are giving out of our abundance, or giving sacrificially.  And that's where the matter of our giving remains--between us, and our Lord Jesus Christ.  Between you--and your Lord.

     In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.