MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.— Mark 12:41-44
(PARALLEL: Luke 21:1-4.)
A celebrated contribution.—The “collection” is generally considered to be commonplace. Jesus, in this passage, clothed it with sublimity. He immortalised the famous farthing. The two mites are transformed into two angels, and they seem to watch over the contribution chest of the Church as the cherubim did over the Ark of the Covenant. Jesus was memorable for seeing the many in the one, the much in the little, the sublime in the simple. The smallest act may embody the greatest principle. The mites of the poor widow rise to the transcendent height of latent martyrdom—“even all her living.” She gave all that her life depended upon. One step more and the gift would have been life.
I. True religion is sometimes under disadvantageous circumstances to develop itself.—
1. True religion is to be developed. Piety is composite, consisting of principle and action. As rays to the sun, branches to the tree, the stream to the fountain, so conduct is to the heart, its natural and necessary outcome.
2. The possessor of true religion is sometimes unfortunately situated. The condition of woman, and especially of a widow, in the East was deplorable. Her portion was oppression.
3. Contrast between principles and position makes the development of religion difficult. The widow had the will, but not the means, to give. She was a princess in heart, but a pauper in hand.
II. True religion will develop itself in spite of adverse circumstances.—This “poor widow” displayed—
1. Consciousness of ability to give. God created all beings with the power to realise the design of their existence. This is pre-eminently true of man. He has soul, will, affections, emotions, conscience, body, privileges, motives, and example.
2. Conviction of duty to give. Every one under the law was commanded to give. None was exempted. The principle still remains under the new dispensation. Individual effort is everlasting. No proxy in religion. “Follow thou Me.”
3. Practical promptitude to give. She contributed gloriously, and the tinkling of her tiny tokens has reverberated throughout the universe. The making power of the two mites has been felt in all the collections of Christendom ever since.
III. The display of true religion in spite of adverse circumstances wins the hearty commendation of Christ.—Christ reports a farthing. He is alone in this. The sum was small, but it was an indication of profound feeling and great sacrifice. It was full of self-denial. The others of their much gave a little, but she of her little gave all. There was no suffering in their offerings. Religion was secondary to riches. Gold superseded God. If there is no sacrifice in our deeds, they are valueless in a moral sense. The widow went her way after depositing her gift, and probably never knew that she was observed. Perhaps it will be so with thee. Do thy best and thou shalt reap. Do thy best in the family, the business, the school, the Church, the world. Time is short. Work is urgent. Recompense is sure.—B. D. Johns.
OUTLINES AND COMMENTS ON THE VERSES
Mark 12:41. The Church treasury.—
1. The Church treasury.—
1. Its supreme importance. The Church can no more succeed without its treasury than can a mill, factory, workshop, farm, or store.
(1) Church edifices can neither be built nor maintained without money.
(2) The ministry is sustained by the treasury.
(3) All the benevolent work of the Church waits on the treasury.
2. The treasury measures the love of Christ’s people for Him. Self-sacrifice. Money is the principal representative of value.
II. The people who cast money into it.—
1. “The multitude.” “None empty.” “Every one lay by,” etc.
2. Jesus saw how much, etc.
3. How rather than what. “Cheerful giver.” “Willing mind.” Many gave from purse only; she from heart. Custom—love.
Mark 12:42-44. The greatness of the widow’s gift.—
I. The greatness of a gift cannot be determined by its absolute amount; it can be truly ascertained only by a moral standard.—
1. The first index on this moral standard points to the ability to bestow. The widow had given more than the wealthy in proportion to her ability. Their contributions were as much less than their living as the widow’s mites, which were “all her living,” were less than their gifts of gold. And, even while they stood at the Temple, their servants were busy in their rich dwellings, preparing savoury viands against their masters’ return. But the widow’s habitation was desolate in her absence; the fire had gone out upon her hearth; and she must return not to a luxurious feast, but to an empty board. In such circumstances abundant indeed was her contribution.
2. A second mark upon this standard indicates the disposition that prompts the gift. There may be no generosity in the most magnificent bequest, while a soul overflowing with love may accompany the humblest present. Here indeed is a sense in which her offering was greater than those of the worldlings. It was greater in her own soul. Small indeed was their gift in the estimation of their own secret thought. Inferior was its weight in the scales of conscience, but great and glorious the integrity and joyfulness of the widow’s spirit.
3. There is still another index on this moral standard which determines the greatness of a gift. This index points to the good effect resulting from the gift. How many hearts has this lofty spirit of the poor widow, thus celebrated by Christ, inspired with the same self-forgetful love and impelled to the same noble conduct! Viewed in its ultimate influence, then, her gift was greater than theirs; and, thus regarded, we may even say it was absolutely greater. For if we consider all the effects of her example in cherishing a true benevolence and leading others to be bountiful even the sum of the rich men’s benefactions would dwindle and fade into nothing before the greatness and splendour of offerings devoted to the cause of religion which have grown, as an immense harvest from invisible seed, out of the widow’s mites. She gave not only to the Temple at Jerusalem, but to every Christian temple under the heaven whose foundations have since been laid. By a single act of self-denial she has been charitable to the whole world; and for what she did, in humility and sorrow that she could do no more, the whole world will confess itself under obligations and be grateful.
II. This subject naturally suggests an absolute truth, apart from the particular case presented in the text.—
1. We may say, generally, it is not great but small things, not imposing but humble deeds, that make up the great sum of good influence. Look at all the great associations for the support of government, education, philanthropy, religion. It is not the talents, but the mites, by which they are nourished.
2. In regard to our own characters we may say the mites are more than the talents. It is not what we think and feel and do on extraordinary occasions that makes the bulk of character, but the silent and steady accumulation of our every-day desires and motives and habits of life. Religion consists not in spasmodic efforts, but persevering industry—not in doing much at one time, but all we can at all times. Think not thy little, if it be all thou canst, will be despised: think not thy much, if it be less than thy ability, will be accepted.—C. A. Bartol.
Unconscious fame.—She knew not that any had seen it: for the knowledge of eyes turned on her, even His, would have flushed with shame the pure cheek of her love; and any word, conscious notice, or promise would have marred and turned aside the rising incense of her sacrifice. But to all time has it remained in the Church, like the perfume of Mary’s alabaster that filled the house, this deed of self-denying sacrifice. More, far more, than the great gifts of their “superfluity,” which the rich cast in, was, and is to all time, the gift of absolute self-surrender and sacrifice, tremblingly offered by the solitary mourner. And though He spake not to her, yet the sunshine of His words must have fallen into the dark desolateness of her heart; and though perhaps she knew not why, it must have been a happy day of rich feast in the heart when she gave up “her whole living” unto God. And so perhaps is every sacrifice for God all the more blessed when we know not of its blessedness.—A. Edersheim, D.D.
Uncoined charity.—The humblest and feeblest among us may cast in their mite wherever there is a sick bedside to be prayed by, ignorance to be enlightened, or misery to be relieved. There are many widows still among us in heart like her who left her all in the treasury. May their useful and estimable class extend and persevere! True to their principles of doing all unto the Lord, and of giving in secret, may no apprehension of the scorn of the world, nor any misgiving of their doing good because the good they do seems small in amount, check their hands or chill their hearts: many a midnight prayer ascends for them from sleepless but grateful sufferers, many a blessing poured forth for them by helpless lips is registered on high; and still, when the Lord looks up to view how men are filling His treasury, He sees certain poor widows casting in thither their mites; and passing by unheeded the rich men’s gifts, He fixes on them the praise of real charity.—R. L. Browne.
A rule of giving for the rich.—Different circumstances require different management, and there is a way of coming up to the poor widow’s attainments without doing exactly as she did. If a rich man were to give away his whole estate, and reduce himself to poverty or to hard labour, this would not only be doing as much, but a great deal more than the poor widow did; for she did not make any such great change in her circumstances, nor did she sink her state or condition at all lower than before. Her example therefore, or our Lord’s applauding it, is of no force as to obliging any one to throw himself out of that rank, station, or condition of life wherein God has placed him. Nor does the instance of the text oblige a man, when in a thriving way, to dispose of all the overplus, all the clear gains, at the year’s end: for how then could he go on to support that rank and station he is in, and to provide for his family? The poor widow might, by what she did, straiten herself for a day or two, and after that be in as good a condition as she was before. But were any trading or thriving men to give away all their increase, they would soon find their affairs run backwards, and would not be able to recover them. Well, then, how must we state the case with a rich man to make it answer to this in the text? The rule of proportion, I conceive, is this: that the richer sort, in order to give the more away in charity, should be content to practise some degree of self-denial, in like manner as the poor widow did. Let them retrench unnecessary expenses at least, abridge their pleasures, shorten their diversions, cut off as much as possible from the pomp and pride of life, to spend upon the poor. Besides this, let them not be oversolicitous as to futurities, providing handsomely for their children, or raising their families. The poor widow trusted God for her own necessary subsistence rather than make no offering at all to the treasury. And thus much at least may be expected of every man: that he contribute according to his perfect circumstances; and that no anxiety, either for himself or his children after him, ever hinder him from doing in proportion to what he at present enjoys. Be content with a moderate provision rather than grow covetous and defraud the poor; for, after all, God’s providence is the best security and His friendship the richest treasure we can have.—Archdeacon Waterland.
ILLUSTRATIONS TO CHAPTER 12
Mark 12:41-42. The widow’s mites.—In my pastorate at Wyoming, Pa., a brother Pettibone, since deceased, a man rich in faith, charity, and good works, cast five dollars into the church treasury every Lord’s Day; a poor widow cast into the same treasury five cents each Sunday. She was very poor, and, to provide for her six fatherless children, took in washing every week. Brother Pattibone came to me one day, and asked me to say to this widow that the church officers felt she ought not to pay anything for the support of the church; and, he added, “tell her that I will pay the five cents extra each week for her.” I called, and performed my errand as delicately as I could; but never before or since did I learn a lesson that taught me, as I was then taught, what it meant to give. As she heard my story the tears came to her eyes, and she answered: “Do they want to take from me the comfort I experience in giving to the Lord? Think how much I owe to Him. My health is good, my children keep well, and I receive so many blessings I feel that I could not live if I did not make my little offering to Jesus each week.” I left her humble dwelling, feeling that Providence had ordered the incident, to teach me a never-to-be-forgotten lesson, that giving is absolutely essential to true Christian discipleship and worship, and that our giving and all other acts of worship will be judged not by the amounts we give, nor the professions we make, but by the spirit, the motive of our giving and doing.—R. W. Van Schaick.
The gifts of the poor.—Jewish tradition, though it ever and painfully thrusts forward the reward, has some beautiful legends, allegories, and sayings about the gifts of the poor. One is to the effect that if one who is poor doeth charity, God says of him: “This one is preventing Me. He has kept My commandments before they have come to him. I must recompense him.” In Vayyikra, R. 3, we read of a woman whose offering of a handful of flour the priest despised, when God admonished him in a dream to value the gift as highly as if she had offered herself. The tractate Menachoth closes with these words: Alike as regards burnt offerings of beasts and those of fowls [those of the poor] and the meat offering, we find the expression “for a sweet savour,” to teach us that to offer much or to offer little is the same, provided only that a person direct mind and heart toward God.—A. Edersheim, D.D.
Mark 12:43-44. Liberality must correspond with means.—Sir Thomas Sutton, the founder of the Charter House, was one of the wealthiest merchants of his day. Fuller tells how he was overheard one day praying in his garden: “Lord, Thou hast given me a large and liberal estate; give me also a heart to make use of it.”
Oracles are said to have more than once proclaimed that the hecatombs of noble oxen with gilded horns, that were offered up ostentatiously by the rich, were less pleasing to the gods than the wreaths of flowers and the modest, reverential worship of the poor. In general, however, the service of the Temple had little or no connexion with morals, and the change which Christianity effected in this respect was one of its most important benefits to mankind.—W. E. H. Lecky.