As Jesus taught, he said, “Beware of
the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with
respect in the marketplaces, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and
places of honor at banquets! They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of
appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.”
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.”
***
I wonder what the poor widow will eat, for if she has
given all she has, there is none left for food. I wonder where the poor widow
will sleep, for if she has given all she has, she
has accumulated nothing for rent. I wonder how far she must travel to feel safe
enough to rest, for I don’t see see the scribes, with their long robes,
providing her a space to call home. So, I wonder who will help her on the road.
She has given everything she had, and in so doing, become a beggar, and beggars
can’t be choosers. In giving everything she has she has given up having
choices. These are the places my head takes me when I hear her story. I go to
practicalities, and necessities. I question what is next. I dislike her
frivolousness, her naivety, her delirious hope. But then, I imagine the freedom
of such an encompassing hope, and I look around, and this hope is my
inspiration.
This week,
“When seven year old
Jack Swanson heard that the Islamic Center of Pflugerville, in Texas, had been
vandalized, he decided to donate all of his savings – $20 dollars – to the
mosque. Vandals had torn pages of the Qur’an, covered it in feces and left it
outside the entrance of the mosque. Jack’s mother told ABC News that her son
had counted all of his pennies that he had been saving up and exchanged them to
a $20 note to give to the mosque. Faisal Na’eem a member of the Mosque’s
management told ABC News that members of the Mosque were delighted by
Jack’s generosity and that it had brought them hope, “Jack’s 20 dollars are
worth twenty million dollars to us because it’s the thought that counts…This
gives me hope… it’s not one versus the other. Our kids are going to grow up
together… If we have more kind-hearted kids like (Jack) in the world, I have
hope for our future.[1]”
In the end the mosque gifts Jack with an iPad, the very
thing for which he had been saving, but I don’t
think the physicality of each gift is the point, it is the hope that
accompanies them, the hope in a future worth giving everything you have. This
story was this week, but certainly not the first time people have been called
to a frivolousness of hope.
Dan McKnight writes,
“In 1934 a young
pastor watched in sadness as his democratic, educated, and Christian community
discarded more and more of its core values. Fear-mongering politicians lured
patriotic citizens to throw out their Bibles and worship at the altar of
National Security instead, and to behave terribly toward foreigners,
minorities, the disabled and the mentally ill. Three weeks after Adolf Hitler
was proclaimed Der Führer, nine months after the 'Law for the Prevention of
Hereditarily Diseased Offspring' took effect, that young pastor preached a
sermon to his flag-waving, nationalist colleagues about how Christians in a
crisis should behave.”
This pastor, Dietrich
Bonhoeffer wrote,
“There is no way to
peace along the way of safety. For peace must be dared, it is itself the great
venture, and can never be safe. Peace is the opposite of security... To look
for guarantees is to want to protect oneself. Peace means giving oneself
completely to God’s commandment, wanting no security, but in faith and
obedience laying down the destiny of the nations in the hand of Almighty God,
not trying to direct it for selfish purposes. Battles are won, not with
weapons, but with God. They are won when the way leads to the cross,” Dietrich
Bonhoeffer, 1934 [Renate Bethge's Dietrich Bonhoeffer: A Brief Life]
The way that led to the cross was not one of fighting, it
was not one of hoarding, it was not one that kept a single penny. It was that
which was delirious with hope, frivolous with expectation, and held a naivety
that overcame the world. We as Christians are a people of hope, not of fear,
and I like to imagine, what it would be like, even if just for a moment, we
entertained a picture of life rooted in hope. Life based not in practicalities,
but in the necessity of hope.
To imagine it is to imagine the kingdom of God. It might look like four women in
1884 beginning a Presbyterian Church in the middle of mining camp, frontier
town, Baker City, Oregon. It might look like two church fires
later the same congregation still continuing. It might look like that
congregation today, taking youth under its wing, nurturing its Luke Rembolds
that they might someday nurture it’s Jake McClaughrys of this congregation or
others. It might look like a church who puts as much, or more effort, into
otherwise unaccepted kids, as it does those who are bound for high achievement.
Because they value hope as much and more than success. It might look like a
congregation who watched Nathan Defrees grow and now celebrates with a bustle
of excitement he and his wife’s first child. It might look like writing on the
Stewardship letters to college kids, “We wanted you to feel included, but hope
you think about giving where you are.” That the stamps and paper, are worth the
cost of the possibility, of helping young adults learn to pay it forward, and
to pay those blessing back to God, with whatever single penny they have. That
they are worth our hope. It may look like the volunteers at Open Door, serving
breakfast to middle schoolers because they believe people should be fed body
and soul no matter if those volunteers, much less the church, receives anything
in return. It may look like a lot of planning for the Backpack Program which
sends food home with kids for the weekend because to give to them is to give
out of our abundance, when we could have easily had lack as they. I imagine too
that a life based in hope isn’t based on an endowment, or perpetuity, much less
tomorrow, it is based our giving today. That we give out of our hope, that we
give toward the church, and the community, and the world we can imagine to be
God’s kingdom.
I like to imagine that we are Jesus
watching the poor widow, unafraid of what she will eat, unafraid of where she
will sleep, unafraid of her safety, or the kindness of strangers, but instead
already living into the kingdom of God. I pray we watch and one another, and
see her frivolousness of hope, and its inspiration thereunto. I pray as
Christians we can been seen as deliriously hopeful. I imagine a place with the
generosity of children and the way they are able to break down the walls that
divide us with their hopeful simplicity. I imagine a place with naivety of
peace valued as the strength of nations. I imagine a church who gives not as
those with abundance and fear for their own tomorrow, but instead gives out of
their abundance of hope - for a community whose children are fed and accepted,
for a country with youth who know how to paying it forward, for adults who
value giving their time and talents to others as central to their identity, an
identity of hope. It is to be Christian. To hope is to see the kingdom of God.
“God wills our liberation
Freedom from fear
Freedom from greed
Freedom to accept and love
and give,” Rev. Dr. Steve Kliewer
