Thirty One Cents

I listened as the deacon greeted and welcomed all who had turned out for the morning worship service at the small church we attend.  He then gave the morning’s Sunday Schools’ report "Forty eight in attendance, thirty seven Bibles, and one hundred fifty seven dollars thirty one cents given.”  I thought, THIRTY ONE CENTS!  Was it given by someone who had only that amount to give?  Then I thought of a story I heard years ago of a church meeting at which a wealthy man rose to tell the congregation about his faith in testimony.  "I'm a millionaire," he said.  "And I attribute my wealth to the blessings of God in my life."  He went on to recall the turning point of his faith.  As a young man, he had just earned his first dollar and was eagerly thinking of all the possibilities when he happened upon a church meeting.  He found himself consumed by the message he heard that night, and when he saw the offering plate he knew that he would either have to give it all to God or nothing at all.  At that moment, he decided to give everything he had to God.  Looking back he knew that God had blessed this decision and made him a successful man.

When he finished his story an awed silence filled the room.  As he sat back down into his seat an elderly woman leaned over from the row behind him and said: "I dare you to do it again."

The moral of the story strikes visions of the weight of sacrifice upon the scales of monetary value.  Quite obviously, it would be far more difficult for the millionaire to now give up his millions than it was for someone, last Sunday morning, in Sunday School to give up THIRTY ONE CENTS.  Jesus encountered a similar sentiment when he told the rich young ruler to go and sell everything he owned.  The young man "went away sad, because he had great wealth" Matthew 19:22.  As it stands, the story boldly illustrates the genuine hold my financial securities have on me; the thought of applying the same level of passion—giving all or nothing—at this place in the my life fills me with alarm.

But this story, I confess, also betrays a common undercurrent in the torrent of my thoughts often associated with munificence.  The virtue extolled by Christ to "go, sell my possessions and give to the poor, and I will have treasure in heaven" is one I  have, at times, have thought of in negative terms.  It is far more costly in my mind for the millionaire to give up his millions than the child to give up his dollar because a million is far more "costly" than THIRTY ONE CENTS. But here, I am considering the sacrifice strictly in sacrificial terms.  The virtue of generosity is seen not as virtue in the true sense of the word, but as sacrifice, self-denial, or "giving up" something good and desirable. 

Then, of course, Jesus also exposes my tendency to measure sacrifice and virtue upon the manmade scales of monetary value in his admiration of the widow at the temple.  "I tell you the truth," he said of the woman who gave two copper coins, "this poor widow has put in more than all the others" Luke 21:3.  What I skip over His love for this widow who "gave out of her poverty" is His love for a woman who gave upward instead of "giving up."  Giving positively instead of negatively, she was able to see herself giving to God instead of taking away from herself.

I admire and read and reread G.K. Chesterton’s writings often. In his published 1957 book; Saint Francis of Assisi, describes the life of poverty of St. Francis in similar terms:  "There was nothing negative about it; it was not a regimen or a stoical simplicity of life.  It was not self-denial merely in the sense of self-control.  It was as positive as a passion; it had all the air of being as positive as a pleasure... He plunged after poverty as men have dug madly for gold." It is a dynamic I am considering, particularly in a society often consumed by the unchallenged assumptions of consumerism.  How do I consider my cultivating of culture?  Am I or will I begin giving positively of resources, of time, and possessions?  Or will I unintentionally give but give negatively, continuing to feeling obligated or even impressed with that giving?

This positive and passionate quality, the deeper I come in relationship and intentionally practice the words of Jesus, challenges my consumer mind, which is a disruption to my seemingly endless desires, and a herald to a new kind of giving. I am discovering at seventy that virtue is not the absence of vice; it is not a negative pursuit.  It is as positive as a passion, a promise as worth seeking as gold!

Therefore; Heavenly Father, may You be glorified in every possession You have allowed me.  Further, may the Holy Spirit consistently remind me of what St. Matthew wrote of Jesus’s words: "Truly I tell you, at the renewal of all things, when the Son of Man is seated on the throne of his glory... everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields, for my name's sake, will receive a hundredfold, and will inherit eternal life.  But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first."

Still Gaining Insight On Relationship

Jesus said in John 13:34, "A new command I give you: Love one another.  As I have loved you, so you must love one another."  I read that the other morning and have been giving it some considerable thought.  My personal interpretation of what He said is: Bill, the only way anyone will know that you are my disciple is to demonstrate it by your relationships. Therefore I am more hardily coming to practice loving those with whom I have relationship. After going through arguments, my defenses and the evidences, loving others is the final apologetic.

Of course, my relationship with another person is two sided and in a fallen world will not be idealistic, which is perhaps why Jesus chose an intimate occasion with his disciples to offer this command--during what is now called the Last Supper.  The doctor Luke also records this occasion in his Gospel Luke 22, and here I gain some interesting insight about relationships that John doesn't mention as John's focus is on Jesus washing his disciples' feet.  Luke writes, verse 24: "Also a dispute arose among them as to which of them was considered to be greatest."  Luke does not say anything about the washing of the feet.  But when I put the two texts together, I begin to see that Jesus is actually telling the disciples that by washing the feet of one another, they were going to demonstrate that they (and I) are living in an imperfect world where, to some degree, reflect the perfection of relationship that is part of the triune God.

It's not just my observation but many other fathers of daughters concur  that daughters are famous for lecturing their fathers! And I have two! Now if Michelle and Amy were able to have lectured within the few seconds of their births, they would have given me a lecture that would have probably run along these lines: "You should be happy that I am born because before I was born, you had no object to love.  But now that I am born, you can love me and therefore you are beginning to learn to love.  And therefore (albeit in a peculiarly ironic way), I am your teacher and you are my student."  In hindsight, I will have to say, "Amen."

However, if this scenario reflects my perception of God this would be problematic because He would be a God without an object to love.  What do I mean?  God is three-in-one: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in relationship.  He is not impersonal but rather triune and thus relational.  John, above all the other writers of the Bible, says that within the oneness of this God, there is a relationship.  Take, for instance, John 14:8–11.  When the disciple Philip asks Jesus to show the Father to them, Jesus chides Philip and his fellow disciples for not recognizing who he was in spite of being with him for so long.  Jesus then goes on to explicitly tell them that those who have seen him have seen God!  This claim is amazing, to say the least.  Jesus describes his relationship to God in a way that no human being in his right mind has ever come close to saying.  He and the Father are in a relationship that is so intimate--one is in the other and vice versa--that to see Jesus is to see God.  Indeed, earlier in John's Gospel, Jesus declares, "I and the Father are one" 10:30.

Then I notice what Jesus says after "A new command I give you: Love one another": "By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another" John 13:35.  Jesus did not give religious criteria by which we would be known as his disciples.  He doesn't say, "You will be known as my disciples because you worship on Sundays, because you'll carry your Bibles—the bigger the better."  No.  "You will be known as my disciples because of how you relate to one another."  It is a relational criterion rather than religious criteria.

So when I consider who I am as a follower of Christ, I am implored to first consider who God is.  Thus, I must begin to think relationally, which is at the heart of reality: three persons, who in some amazing, mysterious way constitute one God.  Here in John and Luke I understand Jesus is telling me that the relationship with the Godhead will be the standard by which my love for another would be measured.  Not at the mega level, but at the micro level.  Not when ten thousand people come and worship together, but when one or many more visit our home for a visit, a meal, a Bible study—neighborhood BBQ or Bible study—and our neighbors begin to see that we truly love one another.  Because when I wash a person's feet and they wash my feet, the watching world sees two imperfect people, yes, but who belong to Jesus Christ and reflect his love in relationship.  By this all will know that I am His disciple.