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. (Mark12.43-44)
How We Give
The mention of money is all it takes for many Christians to
break out in a cold sweat. And they have just cause for feeling squeamish. From
the start, the Church has been a lucrative venue for charlatans and scam
artists to exploit the faithful’s confidence that God rewards sacrificial
giving. The teachings of Christ and the Apostles—which consistently emphasize
the virtues of generosity—get twisted into all sorts of outlandish promises
that have no basis in scriptural truth. Enormous cathedrals have arisen on the
backs of poor people told they can buy their way into heaven. Vast
televangelist empires have emerged from a steady flow of donations from people
with little to spare. Purveyors of “prosperity gospel”—many of them every bit
as criminal as the craftiest Ponzi schemers—point to their mansions and
Mercedes and minks as proof positive that God makes people rich. (For the
record, it is true that, as 2 Corinthians 9.7 says, “God loves a cheerful
giver.” But when we read the statement in context, there’s no escaping its basic
premise: God blesses givers so they have more
to give. Verse 8: “God is able to provide every blessing in abundance, so
that by always having enough of everything, you may share abundantly in every good
work.”)
So we are justified in approaching Sunday’s Gospel (Mark
12.38-44) with caution. In this episode, Jesus favorably compares a poor widow
who contributes all that she has with wealthier types who make a
great show of their gifts—and there’s no mistaking the story is about money. As
a result, this text has been a perennial favorite of get-rich-quick preachers
and religious rainbow-riders down through the ages. “Be like the widow!” they
say. “Give everything you have—even if it’s just a couple of coins, like she
did. Jesus says you’ll be better than rich people if you do!” But this passage is
about a great deal more than money and status. When we read it carefully, we realize
the issue isn’t how much we give at all. It’s how we give. The questions it raises have nothing to do with the
amount, but rather where our desire to give comes from.
A Sincere Heart
We don’t know what prompts the widow to give all she has.
What’s most intriguing about her is that she comes and goes completely unaware
that Jesus notices of her. There’s not a shred of ostentation in her giving,
and its size is so insignificant that it’s unlikely to make a real difference. But
that’s Jesus’s point: her unconcern about being seen is why He calls her to our
attention. Before the widow shows up, Jesus also points out another
group—although his assessment of them is hardly flattering. In verses 38-40, He
says, “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be
greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and have the best seats in the
synagogues and places of honor at banquets! They devour widows’ houses and for
the sake of appearances say long prayers. They will receive the greater
condemnation.”
It is against this background of self-aggrandizing
religiosity that Jesus sets the widow in sharp relief. And Jesus makes very
clear where both parties’ desire to
give comes from. The widow gives from a sincere heart. Her sacrifice is worthy
because its extent is not apparent. Meanwhile, the religious leaders’ gifts and
piety are unacceptable because they’re offered hypocritically; every act comes
with a “what’s in it for me” clause attached. What’s more, Jesus indicates that
ill-gotten gains make their impressive contributions possible. “They devour
widows’ houses,” He says, referring to their ruthless greed for wealth and
status. These people aren’t givers at all. They’re takers. That’s why Jesus says, “This poor widow has put in more than
all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have
contributed to their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in
everything she had, all she had to live on.” (v43-44) This woman with so little
gives so much that her gift is greater than all the others combined. It is she
who deserves to be seen—and Jesus makes sure we recognize that.
Presentation Isn’t “Everything”
In terms of our giving—whether of finances, time, or
compassion—size really doesn’t matter. Our contributions to God’s kingdom are measured
with two criteria: degree of sincerity and unwillingness to exploit the honor
of giving for selfish gain. When it comes to generosity of spirit, we quickly
discover presentation most definitely isn’t “everything.” Regardless of one’s
resources, anyone with sufficient cunning can put on a show. Regardless of
one’s spiritual depth, anyone can learn how to recite eloquent prayers and
stitch together long-flowing robes of self-righteousness. The instant we design
acts of worship to impress onlookers is the instant our hypocrisy is revealed.
What’s more, our need to impress often provokes speculation about the source of
our largesse. Chances are—like the scribes and so many prosperity preachers—the
wealth and status we try to flaunt has been obtained at someone else’s expense. We’re a
far cry from blessings that God showers on cheerful givers. If we give with
expectations of glory or recognition, we’re not giving at all. We’re taking.
So where does our desire to give come from? When we find that
place and align it with Christ’s teaching, we’ll understand the amount and
nature of what we give is irrelevant. Humility of gesture is the thing, as we
seize every opportunity to give our all, despite how little that may seem in
comparison to others. It tickles and amazes me that a poor lady passes through
this story with no idea she’ll be remembered centuries later for the significance
of her sacrifice. That’s the real lesson in this passage. How we give—not how
much or the attention our gifts may receive—determines the true value of our
offerings.
It’s not the size of
the gift, but the sincerity that prompts our sacrifice.