Gospel of Mark

She Gave it All

| Marie Griffith

Yesterday, I read the story in Mark 12:41-44 about the poor widow giving all she had. Jesus sat near the offering boxes and noticed the crowd tossing in their contributions. Maybe some in the crowd gave their offerings thoughtlessly, just another item on their religious checklist. Maybe others thought a lot about what they gave and walked away with puffed up chests and noses in the air. The rich gave their large sums, and a poor widow gave her two pennies. Jesus let his disciples in on the truth they probably missed.

“The truth is that this poor widow gave more to the collection than all the others put together. All the others gave what they’ll never miss; she gave extravagantly what she couldn’t afford—she gave her all.”    Mark 12 (MSG)

The story reminded me of another widow who gave all she had. God could have sent Elijah to another home, another family…..with more to give. But he chose the widow in Zarephath with nothing but enough flour and oil to prepare one last meal for her and her son. Instead, she used all she had to make a small loaf of bread for Elijah.

“…For this is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: ‘The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the Lord sends rain on the land.’”  1 Kings 17:14

If you don’t know the rest of the story, I urge you to read it. It starts in 1 Kings verse 7 and ends in verse 24. I wonder if the the poor widow in Mark’s account knew the story of Elijah and the widow of Zarephath. Perhaps it inspired her to give all she had.

The Bible tells us what happened to the widow of Zarephath, but we don’t know about the widow in Mark. What happened to her after she placed her coins in the offering? Did Jesus speak with her? Did the disciples help her?

We only know what Jesus said of her: she gave it all.

Maybe both widows inspired part of Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians. In the letter, Paul shared the story of the Macedonian churches’ overflowing generosity with the hope of encouraging the same in the Corinthian church. Titus delivered the letter which included this counsel:

And here is my advice about what is best for you in this matter: Last year you were the first not only to give but also to have the desire to do so. Now finish the work, so that your eager willingness to do it may be matched by your completion of it, according to your means. For if the willingness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what one does not have.    2 Corinthians 8:10-12

It’s our willingness that matters, not how much or how little. There’s no need to compare our gifts because mine will be different than yours.

It’s about the motives in our hearts.

Is is duty? Is it a check mark on our religious to do list? Are we showing off? Are we buying our way into the inner circle, or trying to buy God’s favor?

Or are we giving from the overflow of the grace we’ve received?

Grace can be a loaf of bread or two pennies. It can be donating a $1000 a week or a full day at the rescue mission. Grace can be giving up a career to raise your family or going back to school to get a good job for your family. It can be giving up a dream or going for it.

God knows your heart. Ask Him to show it to you.

And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.  2 Corinthians 9:8

 

 

 

 

Photo by Ullash Borah on Unsplash

 

 

 

Making Headway

| Marie Griffith

I’ve been running for over three years now. I went from believing I could never run to…….well……running. I’m not sure I’m any good at it. I’ve never experienced the “runner’s high” I hear about unless you count how I feel when I’m finished with a run. I’m elated after a run. Because it’s over.

And on my last runs, I felt as if I’ve never ran in my life. It was awful the entire time. Maybe it was because I woke up late and skipped parts of my routine. I rushed out the door before I finished my first cup of coffee because I was determined to get the run in before I had to be in the office. Within the first quarter mile I knew. My legs ached and my lungs burned more than usual, so I slowed my pace. The slower pace only prolonged the misery. The run never got better. I almost quit halfway through my goal, then I thought about quitting the rest of the time. But I finished.

When I read what Jesus thought when he saw his disciples in a boat on the sea it reminded me of my run and our lives.

“And he saw that they were making headway painfully, for the wind was against them.”  Mark 6:48

I can think of no better words to describe the hard parts of my journey. My running journey, the married one, the parenting one, my working and writing ones and the most important journey – the following Jesus one.

Making headway painfully.

Of course, it’s not always like that. There are days when it’s easy. Or easier. Good run days happen. I don’t let the bad run days stop me from working to get better at it.

It’s the same way on the other journeys. I can’t let the hard days of my marriage make me forget the good days. I don’t let the days when I feel uninspired to write any words prevent me from continuing my blog or steal my dream of publishing a book. On the days my parental decision making is less than wise I try to remember all the times it wasn’t.

And on the journey that matters the most…the one that affects all my other ones, I’m learning as I go. There are days I’ve let pride rule my heart, or acted selfishly. I’ve ignored what Jesus said about loving my neighbor or failed to do something good I know I should have done. But it happens less than it used to. I’m learning. Slowly at times. Painfully sometimes. But I’m moving forward and I’m never alone.

Jesus said, “Take heart, it is I”.  Mark 6:50

He sees. He knows when it’s painful and slow. And He’s there giving me the courage to keep at it.

I stumble…..but I’m making headway.

 

 

Love Me Tender

| Marie Griffith

Eleven days into my Lenten journey and I realize I’ve slowed down……a little. I’ve allowed for more quiet time in the morning….reading, praying, listening and reflecting, but I’m still trying to find a consistent soul-speed.

I’m reading a daily online Lent devotional and the Gospel of Mark during my Lenten journey. This week the story of a man with a withered hand in Chapter 3 struck a chord. Or maybe it hit a nerve.

Jesus walked into the synagogue and noticed a man with a withered hand. Some versions say his hand was shriveled. Others use the word deformed or crippled. Whatever word described it, the man’s right hand was useless. The same story in Luke 6:6-11 says Jesus asked the man to stand in front of the crowd.

Jesus wanted the people to see the man and his gnarled hand. Perhaps some in the crowd were moved to compassion. Some wondered what Jesus would do. The Pharisees and scribes looked for a way to accuse Jesus.

In all three Gospel accounts of the story, Jesus questioned the crowd.

“Is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath or to do harm?”

“If your sheep fell into the ditch on the Sabbath, wouldn’t you lift it out?”

“On the Sabbath should we save someone’s life or destroy it?”

The four words at the end of verse 4 in Mark’s version say it all.

“But they were silent.”

No answers. Not a word. Only silence. The religious leaders were unyielding. The sight of the disabled man and the pointed questions did nothing to soften their hearts. They were consumed with the idea of catching Jesus in breaking the Sabbath.

I wonder about the onlookers, though. The other ones in the synagogue. Why didn’t one of them answer Jesus and say, “I would rescue my sheep” or “It’s lawful to save a life any day of the week.” Had they heard the man-made rules about Sabbath for so long they forgot what God said? Were they scared into silence? Afraid of what the religious leaders would do if they spoke up?

Verse 5 says, “And Jesus looked around at them with anger, grieved at their hardness of heart….” 

Then Jesus told the man to stretch out his hand and it was restored.

Such a work of mercy should have tendered hearts and caused amazement and faith, but they wouldn’t be moved. They persisted in unbelief and set out to destroy Jesus. The ones determined to uphold the law missed the whole point of it: to love God and love people.

Are our hearts hard? Are we unmoved? Do we value man-made rules and traditions over people? Are we determined to move our agendas forward even when it means hindering others’ journey toward God? Are we holding onto status or position or reputation instead of trusting God?

Father, show us our hearts. Reveal the deepest places – the ones we try not to see. Make our hearts tender so we are moved by what moves You. May we love you wholeheartedly and may we see those around us the way You see them.

And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.  Ezekiel 36:26

 

Photo by Jamez Picard on Unsplash

 

 

 

Good News

| Marie Griffith

Create in me a clean heart, O God,
    and renew a right spirit within me.
Cast me not away from your presence,
    and take not your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
    and uphold me with a willing spirit.             Psalm 51:10-12 ESV

This week’s Monday School passage is part of a Psalm of David. He penned the Psalm after he was confronted by Nathan about Bathsheba.

What better words to express a broken heart over it’s own sin. It’s God who makes our hearts clean and renews a right spirit within. And it’s God who can restore to us the joy of His salvation.

This is my daily and constant prayer within the 40 plus days of Lent. I know only a little more about Lent than I did last year. My Lenten journey was a sweet time of reflection and re-centering and so I began again on Ash Wednesday, which was the same day as Valentine’s Day this year.

The purpose of my observation of Lent is to slow down, seek, reflect, and prepare. I’m committed to leave plenty of open spaces on my calendar so I can slow down and move at soul-speed but I will also reduce my smart phone and laptop use. Unintentionally, I’ve started to believe I’m more important than I am. Missed calls, unread emails, and notifications from my blog or social media accounts scream for my attention. Shazam praises me for the great song find, Runkeeper reminds me it’s time for another run, and Netflix picks shows just for me. First, the dings, buzzes, and red bubble notifications never feel like soul-speed. Second, I’ve become the center of my world and that’s not where I belong.

So on this Lenten journey I ask God to take me back to the beginning.

God take us back, the place we began 
The simple pursuit of nothing but you 
The innocence of a heart in your hands 
God take us back, oh God, take us back

     Simple Pursuit by Passion

I will pause Monday School for a while and instead write about my journey back. I’m reading in Mark during this time if you want to join me.

And Mark’s first words are these:  “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”   Mark 1:1

Mark has some good news for us.

 

photo by Joanna Schley