Theological Truth: Giving out of our scarcity opens us to God’s abundance, transforming our emptiness to fullness.
Come Holy Spirit and kindle in us the fire of your love. Send forth your Spirit and we shall be created, and you shall renew the face of the earth. Amen.
I was tempted to use the second verse of today’s psalm as a dramatic abbreviated sermon: “Put not your trust in rulers, nor in any child of the earth, for there is no help in them” (Ps. 146:2). Drop the mic. Sit down. Understandable maybe … memorable perhaps … but not faithful. And just for the record, I don’t pick these readings. They are part of the three-year Sunday lectionary cycle used by most mainline Christian denominations. Throughout the world, Christians are being reminded today to put not our trust in rulers. Bishop Mark reminded us this week that our help and hope are not in any child of the earth; our hope is in Christ. And a big pot of soup…
There’s a fable about a hungry traveler without any food. All he has is water, a pot, and a stone. So, he builds a fire under a tree by the side of a road, fills the pot with water, adds the stone and begins stirring his “stone soup.” Another hungry traveler walks by and says, “I sure am hungry. What are you cooking?” He says, “Stone soup … you’re welcome to some. It’s delicious, but it’s no onion! Here ya go.” Another person walks by and says, “I sure am hungry. What are you cooking?” He says, “Stone soup … you’re welcome to some. It’s delicious, but it’s not quite ready yet. In fact, it’s missing something.” This traveler says, “I have carrot. Here ya go.” Just then a hunter walks by and says, “I sure am hungry. What are you cooking?” They say, “Stone soup … you’re welcome to some. It’s delicious, but it’s not quite ready yet. In fact, it could use a little something else.” The hunter says, “I have this turkey. Here ya go.”
You get the idea, more people wander by, offering what they have, and eventually there is a delicious, nutritious meal for everyone. Scarcity turned into abundance. Isolation turned into community. Despair turned into hope.
This isn’t merely fable. This is the way of God, the way of Love. We hear it in today’s story from first Kings where the widow shares with Elijah what she imagined would be her and her son’s last meal. She gives out of her scarcity and discovers God’s abundance.
We hear it in the story of Jesus observing the crowd putting money into the treasury. He’s not impressed by the large donations of the wealthy. Instead, he sees and celebrates the generosity and faithfulness of the poor widow whose two copper coins are worth more than all the rest because she gives out of her poverty. She offers everything she has. All that she has to live on, she gives back to God. Rather than living out of her scarcity, she lives into God’s abundance.
Generosity in the midst of scarcity isn’t an easy thing for us to do. Halloween provides a timely illustration. I’m much more generous when my big bucket of candy is full. Parting with a couple of KitKats is easy when I know there are plenty more. But when it’s down to the last couple of pieces, that’s when I get a little stingy. Never mind what supply and demand does to prices, when we experience a shortage of something valuable, hoarding commences, stinginess ensues, suspicions increase, cooperation evaporates. And it doesn’t just apply to money and candy.
Joe Primo, CEO of Grateful living observes that, “Well before this election season began, we lost sight of what is most sacred for our survival: our shared humanity … [I]n order to reach our fullest capabilities as humans, we need to prepare banquet tables large enough to include those with divergent perspectives and lived experiences so that we might better understand. Instead, we find ourselves huddled around bistro tables where we can only hear those closest to us — those who think and live like us, those who value what we value” (email of 11/6/24).
And now in this post-election world of fear and fatigue, there’s an even greater shortage of critical ingredients to our civil life and communal co-existence. In the pantries of our collective souls, we are running low on mercy, charity, forgiveness, and acceptance. We seem to have run out of time, patience, and courage. Our supplies of hope and love appear critically insufficient to meet the need. In this impoverished condition, Americans across the political spectrum sound like the widow of Zarephath: “We have nothing left. We are preparing for the end.” In our depleted state, will we become even more stingy, suspicious and uncooperative? Will our banquet tables shrink even further?
I pray that this morning, in our exhausted, depleted time of despair and division, we will hear the words of Elijah, “Do not be afraid…For thus says the Lord … the jar of meal will not be emptied and the jug of oil will not fail.” I hope that though our emotional cupboards are bare, we will trust Jesus’ commendation of the widow at the Temple who gave out of her poverty — all that she had left — and discovered God’s abundance. Because here’s the thing, God’s mercy is never ending, God’s love has no limits. His justice and righteousness are an ever-flowing stream.
Though love, compassion and understanding may seem scarce, this is no time for hoarding. Giving it away doesn’t exhaust our supply of it, it makes room for more. The jar of mercy is never emptied, the jug of God’s compassion never fails. In those memorable words we heard from Rev. Scott a few weeks ago, “Love is the coin of [the] soul.” Now more than ever, “Give it all away!”
That’s the work ahead of us, both as Christians and Americans: not to be a melting pot, but a soup pot. The kingdom of God, the heavenly banquet, is intended for all; offered to all; and there’s enough for all. This feast comes closest when people from every family, language, people and nation (and political party!) contribute and collaborate. Joe Primo is right in stating, “The work ahead for all of us will not be easy, but it begins by opening our hearts rather than sealing them off out of fear and disappointment.”
I get it. There are a lot of tired, scared, broken and empty hearts out there. Nevertheless, today, once again, we “lift them up to the Lord.” With God’s help, we will give out of our present poverty and rediscover God’s treasures. We will give out of our scarcity and encounter anew God’s abundance. We will, with God’s help, come together to share a feast made possible through the collective ingredients of our common life, and the uncommon generosity and abundant love of God made known in Jesus Christ. He is our hope.
Sermon by The Rev. AJ Heine at Trinity Episcopal Church, Staunton, Virginia, on November 10, 2024.
