“And he looked up, and saw the rich men casting their gifts into the treasury. And he saw also a certain poor widow casting in thither two mites. And he said, Of a truth I say unto you, that this poor widow hath cast in more than they all: For all these have of their abundance cast in unto the offerings of God: but she of her penury hath cast in all the living that she had” (Luke 21:1-4).
In 2007 the Washington Post did a social experiment on “Context, Perception and Priorities.” They wondered if people could cut through the fog of life and recognize true beauty right in front of their eyes. So they arranged for Joshua Bell, a world-renowned musician, to dress in jeans and a baseball cap and perform at a metro station in Washington, D.C. during the morning rush hour. On his 3.5 million dollar 1713 Stradivarius violin he played some of the most graceful and enduring music ever written. They then watched to see if anyone took notice.
During his 45-minute recital, only seven people recognized that there was something special about his playing and were willing to take a minute or two out of their busy days to stop and listen. Over a thousand people were oblivious to the extraordinary event. Almost every passer-by failed to appreciate the beauty in the street performance.
Similarly, two thousand years ago, a seemingly insignificant widow performed an act of beauty that would be recorded for the ages — and only one person noticed.
The temple
It happened in the temple, which in the time of Jesus was a grand place. Josephus describes its splendor:
“Viewed from without, the Sanctuary had everything that could amaze either mind or eyes. Overlaid all round with stout plates of gold, the first rays of the sun it reflected so fierce a blaze of fire that those who endeavored to look at it were forced to turn away as if they had looked straight at the sun. To strangers as they approached it seemed in the distance like a mountain covered with snow; for any part not covered with gold was dazzling white” (The Jewish War, p. 304).
The Jewish rulers and priests were proud of their magnificent sanctuary. With no regard for the characteristics their God required of them, they used whatever tactics they deemed necessary to preserve it, including cruelty, threats, lies, deception, false accusations, violence, or murder.
The temple could get as busy as the Washington metro. During feast times, hundreds of thousands of people descended on the temple area. As well as a place of worship and sacrifice, it was a marketplace, a place for exchanging money, a place to make business deals. It was even used as a shortcut for daily commuters.
Inside, the Pharisees wore flowing garments, gave elaborate orations and prayers, and maintained an impressive appearance of righteousness. There were many structures, people, and activities to catch the attention and interest of visitors.
Contrast all this with Jesus’ description of the temple: “It is written, ‘My house shall be a house of prayer,’ but you have made it a den of robbers” (Luke 19:46).
Describing those who controlled it he said: “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and love greetings in the marketplaces and the best seats in the synagogues and the places of honor at feasts, who devour widows’ houses and for a pretense make long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation” (Luke 20:46).
Jesus viewed the temple as a leprous house that had to be destroyed.
“As for these things that you see, the days will come when there will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down” (Luke 21:6).
The widow
In this place of presumed righteousness, no one took notice of the widow. Yet, in her state of poverty amidst all the extravagance, she was the proverbial elephant in the room!
This was supposed to be God’s house, where such circumstances should not exist: “A Father of the fatherless and protector of widows is God in His holy habitation” (Psa 68:5). The place of worship had become more important than the true worship God desired and the care He had commanded them to give to others.
Although we do not have a literal temple today, our traditions, buildings, Bible schools, magazines, or infrastructures can become more important to us than being compassionate, merciful and just. If we resort to ungodly behaviors in order to maintain our “temple”, we become a whitewashed wall, a clean bowl on the outside filled with filth on the inside.
Thus the widow remained invisible — but Christ saw what no one else saw. He always sees what others fail to see.
- Christ sees your heart and the principles you live by.
- He sees your public and your private life.
- He sees your emotional, financial, mental, and physical condition.
- He sees your motives.
- He sees your assessment of yourself.
But even when he points her out to the disciples, they completely miss the lesson. Unmindful of the widow’s donation, they immediately start admiring the splendor of the temple and the notable donations — a lot like the commuters who ignored the world-famous violinist.
Only Jesus takes notice, only he is moved by the sincerity, the beauty and power of her action. She gives her all, holding nothing back.
The offering
A mite was a small amount of money. It was a lepton, about 1/128 of a Denarius, or about six minutes of a laborers’ daily wage. Some have even suggested that it was the minimum one could offer. Yet if it was the minimum to Jews, to Jesus it was the maximum. In the eyes of the world her offering was barely an offering. In the eyes of Jesus her offering was everything.
In 2 Cor 8:10-13 the Apostle Paul offers a different way of assessing things: “For if the readiness is there, it is acceptable according to what a person has, not according to what he does not have” (vs. 12). This way of assessing ourselves and our offerings can be very encouraging.
Have you ever thought of Christadelphians as the two mites? There are about 60,000 of us worldwide. Compare this to the individual local churches in the United States that boast congregations of over 50,000 members. In the eyes of world religions, we are barely noticeable. On any given Sunday the television evangelist Joel Osteen will speak to a live audience of 45,000 with seven million more watching him on their televisions. We are a mere pittance.
In the eyes of the world we are insignificant. But what the world fails to see, our Lord and Savior notices. In Jesus’ eyes we can be precious. We can be that violinist producing beautiful and elegant music. But what is it that makes us beautiful? Is it not living those godly characteristics of compassion, mercy, truth, justice, and longsuffering? Is it not our dealings with each other and with those around us?
When we participate in outreach, our efforts are often in second-rate locations, with mediocre equipment and presented by brethren who do not always have the most polished style. There are religious groups with their own cable channels and daily radio broadcasts, multi-million dollar budgets, beautiful sets, and celebrity endorsements. Yet Christ sees what we’re doing. In the noise and chaos of Christianity, our Savior sees.
In 2013, World Vision, a Christian charitable organization had $982 million in revenue and support. Agape in Action, a Christadelphian charitable organization, was able to reach approximately $1 million. In the eyes of the world, that seems like a mere two mites. In the eyes of Christ — it is magnificent.
Remember we are not being judged by what we don’t have. We are being judged by what we do with what we do have.
True giving
What about within our community? How do the “big” ecclesias view the smaller ones? Are they small and therefore insignificant? Are they even noticed? Are they invisible? Yet we are told, “Where two or three are gathered there I am in the midst of you.” Do you offer your support? Visit once in a while, offer to play the piano, exhort, or just share in fellowship?
Let’s personalize it. What about the brothers and the sisters in our meetings? Are any of them insignificant? Do you feel invisible? When someone is absent, do you notice? Are there members that “matter” and the “others”? Not in the eyes of our Savior. He notices what no one else does! He places value where we might see none. You can be that expert violinist, creating beauty, pouring your heart and soul into every action, word and thought. You can be that widow making the offering that catches the Savior’s eye.
If the world doesn’t notice, it doesn’t matter; if other ecclesias don’t notice, don’t fret; if the members of your ecclesia fail to recognize what you’ve done, be at ease. It is God and His son that you are praising, it’s them you’re thanking. As long as you are holding nothing back, your Savior sees.
May ours never be the ecclesia and may each of us never be the individual that diminishes the importance of any of our brothers or sisters, young or old, male or female. They are all essential. When we share in the bread and the wine, we participate in something many people refuse to see. Their lives are just too busy to stop and observe. To them there is no value in what we do each Sunday. Yet, it is the most beautiful, powerful and priceless thing we do.
When Christ was hanging on that stake many people would have passed by and barely taken notice. If they did see, all they saw was three criminals. Three criminals crucified by the Romans to teach a lesson — don’t do what they did, or you will end up like them. Yet Jesus’ message was, take up your cross and follow me. Follow my example; don’t run from it.
“And he said to all, ‘If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it. For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself?’ ” (Luke 9:23-25).
When we partake of the bread and the wine, let us be thankful that our Savior sees what others don’t see. May we follow His example and give attention to all of our members, to all of our ecclesias, and to all of our offerings. Let us hold nothing back in dedicating ourselves to our God.
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One