Crossroads
I’m fascinated with the stories inside the stories of the Bible, the details the Bible doesn’t tell us………
Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. And a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents. Calling His disciples to Him, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything - all she had to live on.”
Mark 12:41-44
The rest of the story…..
Standing in line she idly wondered how long before the pain arrived. Bringing that gnawing need she knew so well. She angrily pushed the thought away….. It didn’t matter. She had decided and now her path was clear
The man in line ahead of her rested his hands on an ample belly as his eyes studied her with sympathy etched across his face. But she knew his type, that sympathy on his face was nothing but a facade to deflect from the bulging money belt peeking out from behind his cloak. Every few seconds he reached down and rearranged it as if to assure himself that it was still there, with its heft intact. A shock bounced through her as she considered how much he must spend on food. In her experience, all fat people were rich.
She wondered if she was crazy for coming here, hoping against hope. It had been a struggle with the dust, the heat, the crowds, and seeing those despicable teachers who were stealing her home. Oh how she wished her dead husband hadn’t appointed a Pharisee to oversee his estate. Apparently they had a need for her house and she had until the Sunday after the Passover to be out.
She watched the line slowly move along, inching her closer and closer to the front. Suddenly panic welled up inside her at the thought of it and she had to resist the wild urge to turn and run out the door. But she knew better. After all, where would she go? Besides, would any of it matter after Sunday?
All eyes swiveled to the fat man as he approached the front. Dramatically tossing his tunic back to reveal his bloated money belt, he carefully reached inside, rummaging his hand around, his eyes turned towards the ceiling as he silently counted. With a flourish of an illusionist, he extracted twenty coins and plopped them in the box one at the time, each one ringing as it hit bottom.
She shuffled forward, frowning as she stepped into the lingering scent of the fat man’s body odor. She raised her eyes to see who might be watching and was shocked to see Jesus! Calmly sitting and studying the people as they came through. Where had he come from? As she studied him she was dismayed that he seemed so normal. Wasn’t the Messiah supposed to be a warrior? Fear threatened to overwhelm her as she realized he might not be able to help her. She froze as he looked up and caught her staring. He studied her for a moment and suddenly his face broke into a smile and it changed everything for her. He seemed to see right through her and love and compassion shined in his eyes. No man had ever looked at her that way and it sent a warmth racing through her. Her heart was thumping wildly as she drew alongside the box, but suddenly she was ashamed. She had so little to give and him sitting right there to see her pittance of money. All these others had given so much, and her with almost nothing. But she had decided to give everything and trust God to handle it from there. Wrenching her eyes away from him, she passed her hand over the box and dropped the two coins. They barely made a sound as they hit the bottom. Hanging her head, she hurried away, ashamed but somehow unburdened, even though she could feel that dreaded tingle of the first hunger pang.
I’ve never had an empty pantry. Not completely. There’s always something stuffed in the back that I’m never in the mood for but I’d surely eat if I got hungry enough. I don’t know if I’d have the faith to give my last bit of bread money away. Especially if I was someone like the widow who should have been receiving charity not giving it.
I think she remembered what I sometimes forget, that giving is the key to getting. Jesus himself told us our gifts would return running over and poured in our laps. I imagine giving would be much more attractive if the the return was immediate. But then we wouldn’t be talking about the widow and the faith it took to drop those two coins.
It’s all about trust. Where is your trust, in the money in your hand or the God in your heart? Even after all God has done for me I occasionally find myself letting finances dictate my moods and I’m not in a good place when money affects how I interact with people.
God wants more for us than we want for ourselves and He pushes us to take that step of faith and believe. He pushes us forward so we can receive what we can’t imagine, gifts that God has judged to be pressed down, shaken together, and running over.
We don’t know what happened to the widow in the temple but I wonder…….
Sunday after the Passover, she stood outside Jerusalem's city gate watching people start their journey home. She’d survived a few hungry days but still silently mourned the many changes in her life. Jerusalem had been in an uproar since they had crucified Jesus and she couldn’t believe all that had happened.
She herself had seen the sun go dark in the middle of the day and others were saying the temple had been desecrated. Something to do with the curtain separating the most Holy place. And just today there was a rumor floating around that he had risen from the dead! It was hard to know what to believe.
The only thing she knew for certain was that starting today she was officially homeless. She had prepared her bag and left her house before she had to endure the indignity of being forced out. The Pharisees were strutting around like peacocks after their crucification of Jesus and she knew they would waste no time in confiscating her house. She had a cousin in the southern town of Masada who she hoped would take her in until she could decide what to do next.
As she reached the fork in the road heading south she heard a shout from behind her. Turning she saw one of Jesus’s disciples hurrying towards her.
“Sister, You may not remember but I saw you in the temple last week,” he said with a smile on his face.
“Yes, yes, I remember….you were with Jesus watching the offering procession,” she replied.
“Are you leaving Jerusalem?” he asked.
“Yes, I have a cousin in Masada who I think will help me. And you must be headed home after…..you know, what happened to your teacher.”
He studied her a moment before responding, “I have heard things today that I don’t understand. Mary and some of the others say He has come back and they have seen Him and talked with Him.”
She studied him trying to process, "I had heard something about it but you say someone has actually talked with him?” she stammered.
“Yes, We’re all headed north to Galilee where He said He would meet us.”
“He did?” she replied slowly.
Staring her in the eyes he said, “You know, He spoke of you and your need in the temple that day. Maybe He did so because He knew we would meet here.”
He paused for a moment before adding, “Why don’t you come to Galilee with us? We have room and you can see Him for yourself.”
Then he turned and joined the others headed towards Galilee.
Thoughtfully she turned south towards her cousin's house and slowly started moving before stopping and gazing up to the heavens wondering if this was one of those moments like the temple, when you decide to follow God even if it doesn’t make sense. After thinking for a moment and saying a silent prayer she slowly turned and headed north, towards Galilee and Him.
