All that we have
The year I graduated from high school, there was a lot of talk about the end of history. The Soviet Union had collapsed, all was right with the world (at least from a certain point of view), and it seemed certain that nothing interesting would ever happen again. At 18, the idea that history was over and done with once and for all really bothered me. I wanted to witness history, maybe even to be a part of it. The end of history sounded so very boring. I felt cheated of an adventure.
Let me just say, for the record: I was an idiot.
History is back in full swing—and it’s not nearly as much fun as I thought it would be.
I’ve heard many emotions expressed this week. Fear, anger, and disillusionment from some. Joy and relief from others.
If you’re frightened, know that you have a place here. Know that God loves you and that you’re not alone.
If you’re happy or relieved, I ask you to listen to those who are afraid. Even if you don’t see any threat yourself, consider the possibility that the fears others are expressing might be grounded in something real. If you’re right and they’re wrong, you lose nothing by compassion.
And we should all remember, wherever we fall on the political spectrum, that if we call ourselves followers of Jesus, our first allegiance must be to God.
The psalm we read this morning seems to have been written in a time of political unease. “Put not your trust in rulers, nor in any child of earth.” Or in older language, “Put not your trust in princes.”
Put not your trust in princes. Instead, put your trust in God. Put your trust in the God who made heaven and earth, who gives justice to the oppressed and food to the hungry. Put your trust in the God who sets the prisoners free, who opens the eyes of the blind, and who lifts up those who are bowed down. Put your trust in the God who loves the righteous, cares for the stranger, and sustains the orphan and the widow.
Put your trust in God—Put your trust in a God who is caring, kind, and just.
An admonition to trust in God can sometimes sound like a platitude, like one of those very unhelpful clichés that have no actual root in scripture. Like hearing “When God closes a door, he opens a window.” Or “God helps those who help themselves.”
But if you test the proposition, you’ll find that trust in God is much more than a cliché. Trust in God actually at the heart of discipleship. It’s trusting in God that gives you the strength to follow God.
In today’s Gospel reading, we heard about a poor widow who put her last two coins into the treasury of the Temple in Jerusalem. It was only a few days before the great festival of Passover—and a few days before Jesus’s crucifixion. The city was overflowing with pilgrims. Palm Sunday had already come and gone. Jesus had already entered the city in triumph as crowds laid branches before his feet and shouted, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!” Good Friday was on the horizon, just two or three days away.
Jesus was teaching in the Temple, sparring with authorities who tried to trap him with trick questions and unsolvable riddles.
Jesus watches as, one by one, visitors to the Temple stop at the treasury to contribute what they can, in observance of Passover and in thanksgiving to God. You can see the rich folks slowing down, noticing who’s watching, clearly thinking, “look at me, see how much I have to give, see how generous I am.” And then a poor widow walks up. Surely she couldn’t afford to contribute anything. But she also approaches the treasury.
She’s self-conscious, maybe, but for a different reason than the rich are, worried that she’s giving too little, worried that people will judge her. But she puts in what she has. Two small coins. Her last two coins.
Jesus sees her. He says that she’s contributed more than the rich because she’s given all she has.
Jesus sees and loves the widow. He notices her. How easy would it have been to not even notice? An old woman putting two pennies in the collection. How easy to not notice, or even to scorn her tiny offering.
No rule or tradition demanded that a widow to give her last two copper coins to the Temple treasury. But still she gives. And Jesus sees that act for what it is. Her gift is extravagant, out of all proportion.
She gives all she has.
She gives all she has, all she has to live on. Just as Jesus would do on the cross just a few days later.
I wonder if Jesus saw in the widow something of himself. Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.
Jesus said blessed are the poor. Not because poverty is good. Poverty is terrible. But blessed are the poor because the poor have a head start in trusting in God. The poor learn to trust God because they so often have no other option. I suspect that’s why people who have little are often the most generous. In a curious way, they can afford to be.
Trust in God. Be prepared to give all that you have. And know that in doing so, you will find both security and joy. It’s a powerful call in the times in which we find ourselves.
I don’t know what the days and months and years to come will bring. But whatever comes, may we learn to trust God with the trust of the widow who put her coins in the treasury, and her life in God’s hands.