Giving to the Needy

 

He sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. Then he called his disciples and said to them, 'Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. 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.' -- Mark 12:41-44

 

Once upon a time, there was an old couple who lived in a small cottage in a small town. They were not rich, did not have a lot of possessions, and did n0t seem to require a lot of goods they could not purchase for themselves or perhaps trade with neighbors for what they needed. They were content, and for them, they had enough.

One day, though, all that came crashing down, it seemed. The old man died, leaving his widow to think of the life that now seemed impossible to sustain. How could she manage without him? She did not feel she could maintain the garden full of vegetables they used for their meals and traded for other goods they did not grow. Without the income from the humble farm stand by the village street, how could she pay the taxes and upkeep the small cottage needed from time to time? How could she contribute their usual sum to the church whose income depended on those who lived lives similar to the old couple?

She went to the local church and sat in the spot where she and her spouse had sat for years. She sat alone, missing her spouse but still in a familiar place. She had a small amount of money in her purse for the offering. It was not as much as they used to contribute, but it was all she had. When the sidesman came around with the alms basin, she slipped her contribution in, hoping that no one would notice the slight clink of coins she put in. She asked God to accept it, as small as it was.

Like the widow in the Gospel story, this widow had contributed all she could, knowing that others would make much larger offerings. In the Gospel, Jesus noted her gift's size, noting to his disciples that although it was a pittance, it was still a gift from the heart. The part of the offering was more important than the size, and it was the difference between giving part of a more significant amount and giving all she had.

Even though the tithing season is past and church budgets have probably been set and approved, maybe I can look at the Gospel story differently. The main character is a woman, a widow with no man to protect and provide for her. When she came to the synagogue or temple to give her offering, she might have been the only woman in a crowd of men. She could have stayed at home, but she chose to do her duty and give what she could to God.

In a tradition that preached and encouraged practicing care for the less fortunate, it could be that every other person in the town or village would think it was someone else's responsibility. Jesus called the disciples to remember the gift. Still, I wish he had given us a little more about how the story was received and what difference it made in those who heard his teaching.

I want to think that the story of our first widow ended with people noticing her struggle and gathering around to comfort and support her. They would drop off "extra" casseroles or soups for her nourishment, occasionally help in the garden in exchange for some produce, or even run errands for her. They would keep an eye on her and sometimes drop in for tea or coffee. The church would help with spiritual support, noticing if she missed church and calling on her to see how she was doing. In short, she would be cared for by a community of people who, consciously or not, did what Jesus taught about loving their neighbor and helping those in need.

Widows and orphans and all sorts of people with needs surround us. The man on the street corner with a sign stating he needed money might be a scammer. Still, he also might be a man who was down on his luck and needed a sandwich, a cup of coffee, or a bottle of water. We are surrounded by developments with houses that cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. However, we can still run into someone begging on the side of the road with all their possessions piled in a pilfered grocery cart. Those are just the ones we see; there are dozens more we do not see.

Before we say that it is someone else's responsibility or that we do not want to have to pay for someone too lazy to work, perhaps we should remember that Jesus said that we should care for all who suffer from misfortunes of various kinds. Even those who try to hide their troubles may sometimes need a shoulder to lean on, a hug, or a listening ear. Those do not cost a cent, but they can mean the world to someone who really needs it.

Originally published on Episcopal Café as part of Episcopal Journal, Saturday,  February 18  2023.

Jealousy

 

I have been a fan of the British Royal Family and, in fact, of the UK in general since I got hooked on a copy of National Geographic about Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation and jewels. Oh, the beauty of those gems! I loved their colors, sparkle, and sheer quantity of them. And to think, she had even more of them in storage to be picked out and worn for various reasons and occasions! I have never worn a tiara, much less a crown, and I have never been jealous of those who can and do wear them. I am satisfied to look and enjoy, without really minding who is wearing them.

I thought the tiara Meghan Markle wore on her wedding day was quite lovely. Compared to those of other royal brides, it was not my favorite or even one of them, but it complimented her style and dress quite handsomely. To find out that there possibly was what amounted to a spat over whether she could wear the tiara she wanted or not was disappointing. Suppose someone offers me a selection of very expensive jewels to wear on a significant occasion. But if the one I wanted was not in the collection on offer, I think it would only be polite to say, “Thank you, I would really like to wear this one.” But, as someone with no chance of that ever happening to me, maybe I could be a bit more gracious about accepting a second or even fourth choice.

I will admit I have been jealous of a lot of people over a lot of things. It was hard not to be jealous of girls whose mothers were alive and close to them for many years, while my adopted mother was sick when I was about nine until she died in my early teens. It was hard to wear ballerina shoes with holes in the sole when other girls wore Weejuns with intact soles. In college, I was still wearing clothes from when I was in eighth grade, while others got new dresses or outfits just about every time they went home for the weekend. Diamonds and tiaras were as far from my vocabulary as most commonly used curse words today. Still, things couldn’t be changed, so I learned to accept what I couldn’t change – most of the time.

One thing I was never jealous of was my adoptive brother, who was twelve years older. We had a pretty good relationship, although we did have a lot of fraternal spats like all kids do. I never had to worry about who had priority. He was the son, I the daughter, and we each had our roles.

There have been a lot of brotherly spats in the Bible, from the Hebrew scriptures to the New Testament. Early in Genesis, there was the story of Cain and Abel, where Cain murdered his younger brother because Abel’s sacrifice to God was more acceptable than Cain’s own. Esau and Jacob were fraternal twins, with Esau being the elder. He was due to take precedence when it came to the inheritance of everything left by his father’s death. Jacob was unhappy with this, and when the opportunity presented itself, he tricked Esau into trading everything for a bowl of stew. This act separated them for years, but they eventually rebuilt their relationship.

Then there was the story of the prodigal son, who would be the ancient equivalent of the “spare” son. His brother would inherit everything necessary, so what would there be for his younger brother? There would be a pittance instead of plenty, so the younger took his mite and ran away to seek his fortune elsewhere. Instead, he found that living at home would have been much better with guaranteed food and shelter. He discovered his jealousy had taken him away from his father’s love and his brother’s company. He returned home, expecting to be rejected. Instead, he received a warm welcome. Then it was his elder brother’s turn to be jealous of that welcome. Sometimes things like jealousy simply pass from person to person, brother to brother, or even stranger to stranger.

Lately, there have been so many stories about Princes William and Harry, one accusing, one trying to remain above retaliation. Neither brother could change their birth order, and one resented being born second, jealous of the attention given his brother. Nearly every day, we hear about one side and the response (or lack of response) from the other. We keep hearing about the same things repeatedly, often revealing and amounting to airing dirty laundry in public.

We learn from these examples of families in trouble due to jealousy that even if we get our way in such a struggle, it is not always the best thing. People are hurt, families have ripped apart, and reputations have been ruined on both sides of the conflict. It is never a pretty thing or even a good or fair one. It is merely one person’s wanting something that someone else already has, and someone or even both sides get hurt.

So the lesson seems to be that when faced with jealousy, we must be cautious of how we react to it. Can something be done about it? Can the situation be changed, short of a capital crime or constitutional upheaval? God gave us a direction in the Ten Commandments, “Thou shalt not covet…” (Ex. 20:17). It amounts to not wanting what someone has. Most of the time, it is hard to do, but God would not tell us to do something completely impossible. It might require us to work hard to achieve it, but is it impossible? Never. Someone, please suggest this to some of the Royals.