Recorded
VersionShe Gave It All
David Orendorff ·Luke 21:1-4 · November 11th, 2007
The treasuries were trumpet-shaped pots which sat outside the entrance to the interior of the temple. They were used like offering plates. The believers who came to worship God first gave their offering and then entered the sanctuary to pray. Sitting at the entry to the temple, Jesus watched as the rich put their offering into the treasury and then as a widow placed her gifts in the treasury on her way in to pray.
The rich have much to give and were hopefully generous. The widow's offering is two coins, worth less than a penny. In comparison to the rich, the widow's offering is less than trivial. Though it is everything she has, it is so meager that it would not have been missed had it never been given.
Jesus notices how great her sacrifice is and says, "Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them; for all of them have contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in all she had to live on."
This widow practices a generosity far greater than Zacchaeus, who gave half his wealth to the poor, and far greater than what I am willing to even consider. This thought led me to remember a woman in Colorado who gave her all. But before I can tell you about her, you need to meet Herb Cies.
Herb was the District Superintendent who offered me my first pastoral appointment. Herb and his wife Lucille lived simple lives of service to God as they knew divine love in Jesus. Everything Herb had or was he dedicated to God. And by grace, Herb loved me. I know I was not the only one he loved; he pretty much loved everybody. But early in my struggles to be a good pastor, he would check on me and encourage me in spite of my errors and shallow faith. To be called by Herb, to be encouraged by Herb, to be loved by Herb was to be loved by God.
When Herb was ready to retire, he began to give away many of his things. He asked me to come and receive a gift. I went and I looked at his books with envy. But he led me to a picture on his study wall. It is the picture before you. It is admittedly not good art. At first I thought it was a picture of Mark Twain, but Herb told me it was Albert Schweitzer. And then Herb told about the artist.
In the congregation of Herb's first pastoral appointment (1945) to a small town was a mother who had only one child. The child was a little boy born with brain deficiencies that prevented him from ever being any more than a tiny baby. And his body was so fragile and broken that he would need constant care. The doctors said there was no hope. It was doubtful the boy would live long and it would be best to institutionalize him.
But this mother would not institutionalize the child God gave her. Her husband at first supported her and then began to complain of what their lives became. He joined with the doctors and urged her to give her baby away. She wouldn't do it. And then, full of despair, he told her that he could no longer offer her and the baby the care they required, and he left them.
For the rest of her baby's life, for several years, she nursed and loved her little boy. As therapy for herself, she took up chalk art. She gave this picture to Herb as a gift when he was moved to another congregation. She told him that Albert Schweitzer was her hero and inspired her to her care for her child by his care for God's children in Lambarene.
Herb told me this story and then told me that, in the picture, he saw this saintly mother's eyes and that over the years he tried to remember her ministry in his. With this picture I feel the mother's love and I feel Herb's love, and I feel my call to care for the children of God. For forty years this picture hung in Herb's office while he gave the whole of his life to God. For 23 years the picture has hung in mine. And per Herb's request, as I approach retirement, I am watching for a young pastor who might be inspired and appreciate the deep worth of this picture.
I say deep because this picture has done more for me than decorate my office; it has led me into worship, study and service, into discipleship.
First, it reminds me of the debt I owe to Schweitzer for the gift of study. When Schweitzer died In 1965, I was a sophomore in High School. The reports of his life inspired me, so I found a biography to read. From that I learned that Schweitzer's first career was that of theologian and that his doctrinal dissertation was seen by virtually every New Testament scholar as a watershed book on the study of the historical Jesus. I found a copy of his Quest for the Historical Jesus in my father's library and I read it. At 16 I read it with dictionary at hand and understood almost nothing. Ten years later in graduate school I again read it, and this time I understood a bit more. Schweitzer led me into serious study of Jesus and the Bible.
Albert Schweitzer's second career was as an organist and musicologist. At 30 he published his chief contribution to music history and theory, Johann Sebastian Bach, the Musician-Poet. From Schweitzer I learned to love Bach, and when I want music to worship with, I almost always choose something from Bach. Schweitzer led me to the depth of worship in music.
In his early thirties Schweitzer returned to the university to study medicine. In his work to understand Jesus and Bach, he decided to offer his life as a medical missionary to those in greatest need. In 1913 at age 38 he left Europe and went to French Equatorial Africa, where he founded and funded a hospital for the poor in Lambarene. He spent most of the next 52 years of his life serving the poor as their doctor.
After winning the Nobel Peace Prize in 1952, Schweitzer used the prize money to expand the Lambarene hospital. It is told that when a reporter came to Lambarene to interview Dr. Schweitzer after he won the 1952 Nobel Prize, Schweitzer stopped his work and sat with the reporter. But when an old man was brought to the hospital with a broken leg, Dr. Schweitzer immediately broke off the interview to care for the man.
For months after his death, natives of the Lambarene area would gather on Sunday afternoons in the hospital courtyard and sing. When one of the volunteers asked one of the elders what was being said in the prayers, he answered, "We thank God that he sent Dr. Schweitzer to us and that he was our good shepherd who gave his life for us, stayed with us, was buried in our soil and under our palm trees."
Albert Schweitzer gave out of his poverty, offered everything he had, the whole of his life. Schweitzer, like Jesus, leads me to serve the poor as the first priority.
The widow, Herb Cies, the good mother and Albert Schweitzer gave out of their poverty and saves us and the world. Jesus embodies in his life and death this sacrificial giving for our salvation. I praise him and all the others who give, out of their poverty, the whole of their lives that the world might know God's love.
Reflecting on this, I got to thinking of our financial stewardship campaign. The truth is we need and celebrate the generosity of the rich. Only the Financial Secretary knows your names, but we know you are there because when you give, the capital campaign thermometer in the narthex takes a mighty leap. And for a big pledge to the operating budget the Finance Committee sighs with relief as we near a balanced budget. But for the gifts of the poor among us, those subsisting on meager resources, the thermometer moves not at all and the operating deficit barely shrugs.
And so now I speak to the widows among us, those whose resources are so tight that sometimes a choice must be made between paying the rent and buying food or medicine. Though you don't much move the big red thermometer, you move the heart of Jesus who sees your sacrifice and praises your faithful stewardship and commitment. And you move my heart and deepen my commitment and faith.
I know that some of you feel like what you have to offer is so small as to be insignificant. But I tell you, and I think I am reflecting what Jesus would say to you, and what the Stewardship Committee and the Finance Committee would want said to you: your gift is the greatest because you give out of your poverty, while most of us give out of our abundance. The true leadership gifts come from you because you are the true face of a generous and gracious stewardship, you are the true face of Christ. I thank you for your leadership. You show us the way.
We are given our lives as gifts to share. Some of us find ourselves rich and others poor, some intellectual and others handy; some extroverted and gregarious, others introverted and quiet; but no matter our gifts, each of us has been inspired by God to give our lives in servant ministry to our time and our place. We are inspired by God to use the gifts, by which we have been blessed, the whole of our lives, for worship, study and service. By our sacrifices God makes compassion and justice, and we know the joy of heaven. It may only be Jesus who notices the sacrifices we make, but it is enough, isn't it, that God knows and smiles over each offering.
Shalom and Amen.