This morning the Sunday school lesson for all the children in church was Mark 12:41-44, "The Widows Offering". My mother, being the brilliant teacher that she is, decided make the lesson more real for her 4 and 5 year olds by giving them $.15 to either keep or give back to the church for offering. After telling them the story, she explained that each child could decide to give all of the money, some of the money or none of the money and it was up to them. One little 4-year-old girl immediately jumped up and with a joyful, excited smile gave all of her $.15 without being coerced. That started a chain reaction of several other children giving all their money too. Then a 5-year-old boy put an end to that trend when he decided to give just "some" of his money ($.3). It came down to two little girls who looked at their coins, looked at my mom, looked back at their money and without hesitation clenched their little fists tight around their coins and said, "it's mine". The money was given to them and they weren't giving it up. What's surprising about this is that one of the 2 little girls is what I would call a "spiritual child". She knows so many Bible verses, and Christian songs, but it's all head knowledge, the truths haven't sunk into her heart.
After each child had given what they wanted, my mother pulled out chocolate coins. For the kids who gave everything, they received 2 large chocolate coins, for the kids who gave some, they received 1 large chocolate coin, and for the children who chose to not give anything, they received 1 small chocolate coin. The point of the reward was for the children to learn that when they give everything they have, God will continue to bless them with more. And even if they chose to give nothing, God continues to pour out his love and grace on them.
As my mom relayed this story to me, my mind whirled with spiritual lessons. How often do I do this? How often do I look at the blessings God has bestowed upon me and think, "it's mine. I'm entitled to this!"? Regretfully, I do it often, too often. Rather than looking at what I have and seeing it as gifts from God; blessings bestowed upon me, I fall prey to the American mindset of thinking, "I deserve this!".
I just read a book by Rob Bell called Jesus Wants to Save Christians. In the book, Rob explains how God has always called His people to care for the poor; the widow, the orphan, the refugee. God blesses His people so they can bless others, so they can be His hands and feet to a hurting world. I live in America, a "Christian" nation, yet what do we do with our resources? North America comprises 1/5 of the world's population, yet consumes 86% of the world's gross product. Does that sound like using what God has given us to bless others? There are an estimated 6 billion people in the world, over half (3.5 billion) of whom live on less than $2 a day. What do we do with what God has given us? We use it to make ourselves comfortable.
I recently returned from Kenya and like so many other people returning from third world countries I was amazed at how people could have so little, yet be so joyful. Why is this? I think it's because people in third world countries who have what we would call nothing see what they have as a gift. They don't think they're entitled to more, they're grateful they have anything at all. I once heard a speaker call "entitlement" the seventh deadly sin; the more I live and learn, the more I agree with him.
I’m not entitled to anything. There is nothing I have done in my life that deserves a reward of any kind. So my question is this: what would happen if I start giving EVERYTHING I have? What would happen if I stopped clenching my fists tight around worldly things and thinking, “it’s mine.”? What would happen if I use what little power, influence and possessions I have to bless the poor of this world?
I don’t know what God has next for me in life, but I do know that a 4-year-old girl reminded me an important lesson this morning: there’s joy and freedom in giving everything you have to the Lord. No matter what comes next in life, I don’t want to hold back.
