'Tis A Gift

Mark 12:41-44 NRSV
41 He sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. 42 A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. 43 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. 44 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.”

The church is rich.

Overwhelmingly, abundantly, resoundingly wealthy.

I know this because, yesterday, in worship, we gave an offering.  We do this thing every week where a couple kids and older guys jump up, grab some plates and pass them around the congregation.  Every week, those plates come back filled with little white envelopes.  Sometimes, there's some change and dollar bills in there, too.  Sometimes, those offerings pay the bills, sometimes they don't.  Sometimes those offerings are for the church, sometimes they're not.  Sometimes those offerings come from hard-earned wages, sometimes they come from well-invested stocks, sometimes they even come from the heart.

Yesterday, there was a particularly thrilling offering.  When our seven-year-old acolyte came forward with the stack of offering plates, the only thing wider than her eyes was the grin on her face. She loud-whispered to me, "Look!" raised her eyebrows, dropped her jaw, and pointed at a gift on the top of the plate--a $50 bill!

$50 is a lot of cash when you're seven-years-old.  And when you're seven-years-old and your mom is on church council and you're in church for every worship and every meeting, you learn that your church is often short on cash.

Acknowledging her excitement, I gave her a thumbs up and smiled, whispering back, "That's awesome!"  And I laughed throughout the offering prayer because the offering was so, simply, joyful.

The situation plays in my mind with joy and awe.  This kid didn't care that the money wasn't hers.  She didn't even have a mite of her own.  She didn't even know who gave this gift.  But she saw the gift--what was, to her, a great gift--and she pointed it out.  For her, this gift was good news, and she shared it.

This kid reminds me of the story of the widow giving her last penny. She reminds me of the old Shaker hymn, "'Tis a gift to be simple, 'tis a gift to be free."  I am reminded that we are free.  Free to be this thankful, gracious, and joyful.

What if we lived as free as that seven-year-old?

What if we were so awed by and thankful for every gift?  What if we so happily shared other people's gifts everytime we saw them?