A Little Goes A Long Way

Mark 12:38-44

I Kings 17:8-16

Our readings today concern two widows.  Both stories are about how a little can go a long way.  But I want to focus our attention on the Old Testament story about the widow’s dealings with Elijah.

Elijah was a prophet of Israel – the northern Kingdom – during the reign of King Ahab in the 9^th century BC.  God’s people had settled in the promised land, but they were prone to the worship of other gods.  They parceled out some of their loyalty to the various gods of their neighbors and built shrines to these competitor gods.  And prophets like Elijah were attempting to call the people back to faithfulness to the true God who had delivered them from Egypt.

 

The other feature of the story is famine.  God had caused a famine by withholding rain from the land.  And so food was in short supply and the agricultural economy was in trouble. 

So it’s a time of divided loyalties, an economic collapse, low morale, and starvation.  That’s when God sends Elijah the prophet to a widow from Zarephath.

This widow has run out of hope.  She and her young son are about to die.  The language she uses to describe her situation emphasize that time has run out for her. 

When asked by Elijah for a little bread and water, she responds that there’s nothing baked in her house.  There’s only a “handful” of meal in a jar; only a “little” oil in a jug.  And she’s gathering a “couple” of sticks in order to make a paltry little fire so that she can prepare one last meager meal before she and her son die of starvation.

Like all stories in the Bible, this one won’t do you any good unless you can find your way into it.  These stories are like large houses.  You can’t benefit from them if you just wander around the outside observing them.  You have to open the door and go in.  You have to open cabinet doors and peek in closets.

The widow’s language suggests that her imagination has been worn out.  She is done hoping for better days.  She has admitted defeat.  Her situation is dire, so we can’t blame her.  Perhaps we can even identify with her.

Sometimes we use up our resources.  Sometimes it feels like there’s nothing left.  Sometimes others ask us for help and we respond that we have nothing to give. 

When we focus on the scarcity of our resources, we can begin to despair.  Whether our problem is scarcity of food, or affection, or good work, friendship, or time, or energy, or something else.  That scarcity has a way of dominating our imagination and strangling our hope.

The problem for the widow is NOT that she was a complainer.  She and her son were about to die.  I think we can understand her pessimism.  The problem was that she hadn’t fully awakened to a surprising encounter with the living God.  She hadn’t yet understood how God would provide for her and for her family.

The story highlights how difficult it can be for us to live with God.  Because sometimes the continual call for sacrifice, for generosity, for giving and serving and sharing – sometimes this can feel like an unbearable burden.  It’s easy for us to get out of balance.  When we ignore our limits we can experience “burnout.”  And this can result in anger, depression, or withdrawal.  It can also create enormous guilt that leads some people to quit the church altogether, tired of always feeling like what they give is never enough.

This heart-breaking story also has its funny parts.  When Elijah gets to Zarephath he sees the widow gathering sticks.  Already our hearts go out to this poor woman.  And we are a little jarred by the demand Elijah makes, “Bring me a little water so that I may have a drink.”  Now it’s true that hospitality was important in ancient cultures.  But Elijah appears a little entitled here.  If I were the widow, I would have looked him up and down, then said, “You’ve got two legs, go get yourself a drink of water!”

Without a word of response, the poor, starving widow interrupts her preparation for her final meal with her son by walking away to bring him a drink.  And what Elijah hollers after her is not, “Thanks very much.  I really appreciate this!”  No, he hollers, “Oh, and also, I’m pretty hungry.  So grab me a loaf of bread while you’re at it.”

When she explains her scarce resources, you would think Elijah would back-pedal, apologizing for inconveniencing the poor woman.  But he doesn’t.  He just becomes more demanding.  “Well, if you only have a little meal and oil, would you make my little bread cake first, and bring it to me.  Then after that you can see about making something for yourself and your starving boy.”  Wow, this guy’s got a lot of nerve!

But the woman did what Elijah asked of her.  And she did it because of the promise he made to her.  He promised her that neither the jar of meal nor the jug of oil would run out until the day God sends rain on the land.

Notice that Elijah did not do for her what we want him to do.  He did not fill her pantry with ten large sacks of meal.  He didn’t stock her cupboards with twenty jars of oil.  That might have put her at ease.  It would have relieved her and given her some peace.  No, he only promised her that she could use what she had each day, and then tomorrow, God would provide enough for that day.  And she’d have to learn to live in trust.  She’d have to learn to live with daily bread.  There are only two ways to live, this story suggests: either we practice idolatry by seeking to secure our futures, or we live in simple, daily trust in God to provide.

Of course we want comfortable savings accounts.  Retirement accounts that can put us at ease.  Of course we want plenty of food in our kitchens.  For heaven’s sake, Stephanie and I spent $400 at Costco last week!  Of course we want plenty of sleep.  We want job security.  We want to feel emotionally stable and healthy.  We want all our body parts to work and to be free of aches and pains.  We would like to have time and energy to spare each day.  We want to stockpile everything.  We want to be awash in reserves.  We mistakenly imagine that this kind of abundance will fix our worries and calm our fears. 

But it won’t.  It never has.  God does not promise us freedom from worry and anxiety.  God promises us that there will be enough for each day.  God teaches us to trust and give and share and love every day, without knowing for sure whether there will be enough for tomorrow.  In fact, we are to learn to pray for daily bread.  To ask for enough for today, and to leave tomorrow to itself. 

What we keep, with hold, hoard and stockpile will likely rot.  But what we give away and share will somehow fill back up tomorrow.  Because God will make your little go a long way.  Amen.