MITES OF SORROWING WIDOWS

"It is estimated that if the widow's mite had been deposited at the "First National Bank, Jerusalem", to draw four percent interest semi-annually, the fund today would total $4,800,000,000,000,000,000,000. If a bank on earth could multiply the widow's mite to such an astronomical figure, think what treasures this dedicated woman will have in heaven where 'moth and rust doth not corrupt'."  - Author unknown

Following His final teaching in the Temple and withdrawing himself from the contentious mobs of men who were debating his words and who had rejected him, Jesus left the temple porches sorrowing only to behold a scene that would appease his heavy heart. As he seated himself  'over against the treasury' (Mark 12:41) He was afforded a view of the Court of the Women. Under the colonnades that surrounded this court were thirteen trumpet-shaped boxes into which various religious and charitable contributions were to be placed. Each of the trumpets bore an inscription that identified the object of the contributions placed therein. Daily temple sacrifices being concluded, Jesus observed as people gathered in the court with intent to pay their various offerings. Among the rich and affluent, desiring to be seen of men to be donating vast sums of money, Jesus spotted a poor widow, identified by her dress of mourning. One can only imagine the timidity with which she would have approached the donation boxes hoping against all hope that her scanty offering would not be seen for into the chest she dropped 'two mites', the smallest legal tender that could be given. Together, two mites are less than a farthing or about half a cent in American money. But this is all she had and yet by giving it away she had lived the law of sacrifice to the full because she had given her all.

What can we learn from the poor widow who had no income, no private health insurance, no single mother's pension or a family benefit allowance? Who had no protection of a male provider but yet had children to feed? Did she put her children's next meal at risk for the privilege of being found in the temple court donating the same as others? As any woman who has been an impoverished single mother would attest, parting with money for any reason is a nerve wrecking experience when you have children in your care. What then can we make of the window's sacrifice the day Jesus sat in the court of the Temple? It would be a correct assumption that the widow in question was someone who prized eternal life more than the riches of this life, valuing it even more than life itself. But could her small amount buy her such a priceless gift as eternal life? The message should be clear to us all - the sacrifice of the heart is far more valuable to God than any amount of money we contribute to His Kingdom for 'on the records kept by the angels of God in heaven, the meager gifts of faithful people far outweigh the ostentatiously bestowed largess of the rich who bestow their bounties to be seen of men; and that those who expend the Lord's money to build up his kingdom and further his interests should do so as though it all came from the mites of sorrowing widows' (Bruce R. McConkie, Mortal Messiah Book 3, p 411).

The story of the impoverished widow stands in high contrast to that of a rich young ruler, a devout young man, who had kept the commandments all his life and who knelt in front of the Saviour and asked: "Good Master, what good thing shall I do, that I may have eternal life?" This is the question that was often asked of Jewish Rabbis in Jesus' time and Rabbis debated and discussed this question at great length. What the chosen people must do to gain eternal life was a dominant theme of discussion in all the Rabbinical schools and always the result of those discussions produced varying views and interpretations of the Mosaic and prophetic writings. If everyone had a different opinion of the matter, it is no wonder that the young ruler sought Jesus' view too. Despite his sincerity however, the way he addressed Jesus indicated that he believed that Jesus was only a great and good Rabbi and not the Messiah or Son of God that could give him the answer that would settle the matter once and for all. By saluting the Saviour as 'good Master' the young ruler acknowledged Him as more than a good Rabbi, whose wisdom was greater than all the rest but he avoided ascribing to him divine Messianic status. This is evident by the fact that 'there is no such thing in all of Jewish literature as addressing a Rabbi as good. It simply was not done in that day and there is no single instance of such an accolade in the whole of Talmud. Jesus, therefore, replied: "Why callest thou me good? there is none good but one, that is, God" Do not address me by the title good unless you acknowledge me as God....." (McConkie, Mortal Messiah Book 3, p 301)


When Jesus answered that to obtain eternal life, one must keep the commandments, the young ruler knowing the commandments of so many Rabbinical schools asked "yes, but which?" . In other words, 'everyone says to keep the commandments but I need to know the particulars'. By pausing the question in the first place, clearly he is suspecting there is something that he is lacking. The Saviour, 'beholding him loved him' (Mark 10:21), knew immediately what this young man lacked and what was his path to eternal life: the commandment that he finds the most difficult to keep. When Jesus told him to sell all that he had and give the proceeds to the poor, He was not telling this young man that his riches were his problem, but his inability to obey the second great commandment, to love thy neighbour as thyself. This the young ruler proved to be true for he walked away disillusioned because he loved his riches more than he loved his fellowmen. How much could he have done for the impoverished widow had he liquidated his goods and sought her out to lighten her burdensome load! And this alone would have been enough to secure for himself treasures in heaven reserved for those who inherit eternal life.

Riches are never the problem, but rather the trust in riches that is found at the center of one's heart, as opposed to trust in God. Why should we trust in God more than in the riches of this life? Because the riches of this life have no place in an infinite realm. Because they come with an expiration date. Because they are fleeting and because they are corruptible. Amassing earthly wealth is futile only to have to relinquish it when the day comes that one's soul is required of God (Luke 12:20). As Hugh Nibley recounted: "I think of Hisham, the mightiest palace an Arab ever built, just outside of Jericho....the prince took twenty-seven years to build it, and it was going to be the finest palace in the world. It was the finest palace; it was magnificent....The night he was to enter it for the housewarming, there came a great earthquake. He had a heart attack and died, and the palace was completely destroyed. They were going to have this big housewarming, and everybody was to come. After twenty-seven years, poof, that's what happened (Hugh Nibley, Teachings of the Book of Mormon, Semester 2, Lecture 41, pp 5,6)."

Since the father offers us all that He has, we need to be willing to offer Him all that we have. It is the love of earthly riches as opposed to the riches of eternity that determines the course of one's destiny for 'eternal life can come to those only who put first in their lives the things of God's kingdom; who love the riches of eternity more than a handful of mortal pelf; who are willing to forsake all and follow Christ' (McConkie, Mortal Messiah Book 3, p. 303). Abraham was exceedingly rich but God did not ask Abraham to place his riches on the alter of sacrifice because his riches were not at the center of his heart, but Isaac was. And so he was asked to sacrifice Isaac and Abraham obeyed, because as much as Abraham loved Isaac, he loved God more. Each one of us is called upon to forsake a prized possession or ardent desire for the sake of the testing process for 'every man has his own Gethsemane' (McConkie, Mortal Messiah Book 3, p 304).

It is a common Jewish proverb that not even in a dream could an elephant pass through the eye of a needle. Jesus used the figure of an equally gargantuan proportion, a camel, to stress the impossibility of a rich man entering into the kingdom of God. When his disciples were astonished by this declaration, Jesus elaborated:

"With men that trust in riches, it is impossible; but not impossible with men who trust in God and leave all for my sake, for with such all these things are possible" (JST Mark 10:26)

"We were in Canada. I was.....an attorney for an oil company and a manager of it. We were drilling wells and making money. I was at the moment up in the Canadian Rockies, way back from the highways. We were drilling there. Everything looked very prosperous. I woke very early one morning before daylight. I was troubled in my mind, and I didn't know the source or the reason for the trouble. And I began to pray, but didn't seem to get an answer. And I remembered that the Saviour was wont to go into the mountain tops frequently.....So thinking about this, I arose before daylight and went back up into the hills where I knew no one would be near. And when I got up on an advantageous point, I began to talk out loud. I was talking to God! Now, I do not mean that he was standing there listening to me or replying to me. But I mean from the center of my heart I was calling to him. 

Now my family were all in good health, all quite prosperous, and it looked as for myself that within a few days I would be a multi-millionaire. And yet, I was depressed. And up there on that mountain peak I said to him, 'O God, if what it seems is about to happen will happen, and if it is not to be for the best good of myself and my family and my friends, don't let it happen. Take it from me.' I said, 'Don't let it happen unless in your wisdom it is good for me'. Well, I left the mountains and came down to the camp. I got into my car and drove to the city of Edmonton. It was a Friday, and while I was driving I was thinking of what had happened. And I felt that there was something impending that I couldn't understand. When I arrived home, and after a bite to eat, I said to Sister Brown, 'I think I'll occupy the back bedroom because I'm afraid I'm not going to sleep'. Now I went in the bedroom alone and there, through the night, I had the most terrible battle with the powers of the adversary. I wanted to destroy myself. Not in the sense of suicide; but something within me was impelling me to wish that I could cease to be.......It was terrible. The blackness was so thick you could feel it. Sister Brown came in later in the night, toward morning in fact, wanting to know what was the matter. And when she closed the door, she said, 'What's in this room?' And I said, 'Nothing but the power of the devil is in this room'. And we knelt together by the bedside and prayed for release. We spent the night together, the balance of it. And in the morning I went down to my office. It was Saturday now and there was no one there. And in going into the office, I knelt by a cot and asked God for deliverance from the darkness that had enveloped me. And coming from somewhere, there was an element of peace, the kind of peace that rests on the souls of men when they make contact with God. And I called Sister Brown and said, 'Everything is all right, or is going to be!"

That night at 10.00 o'clock, October 1953 - the telephone rang. Sister Brown answered. She called me and said, 'Salt Lake's calling' and I wondered who could be calling me from that far away. I took the phone and said, 'Hello'. 'This is David O. McKay calling, The Lord wants you to give the balance of your life to Him and His Church. We are in a conference of the Church. The concluding session will be tomorrow afternoon. Can you get here?'  I told him I couldn't get there because there were no planes flying, but I would get there as soon as possible. I knew that a call had come. And the call came after this awful conflict with the adversary. And when he said, 'The Lord wants you to give the balance of your life to the Church', I knew that it meant giving up the money; it meant that I'd turn everything over to someone else and go to Salt Lake without monetary remuneration.

Since that time, I've been happier than ever before in my life. The men with whom I was associated have made millions. And yet, when one of them was in my office not long ago in Salt Lake, he said, 'I am worth at least seven million dollars. I would gladly give every dollar of it to you if you could give me what you have. I can't buy it with money, but I'd like to have what you have. What you have is peace of soul, and I cannot buy that with money'. (Hugh B. Brown, 'Eternal Progression', Address to the student body, Church College of Hawaii, 16 October 1964, pp 8-10)

ON THE ROAD TO JERICHO

"My father, a printer, worked long and hard practically every day of his life. I’m certain that on the Sabbath he would have enjoyed just being at home. Rather, he visited elderly family members and brought cheer into their lives. One was his uncle, who was crippled by arthritis so severe that he could not walk or care for himself. On a Sunday afternoon Dad would say to me, ‘Come along, Tommy; let’s take Uncle Elias for a short drive.’ Boarding the old 1928 Oldsmobile, we would proceed to Eighth West, where, at the home of Uncle Elias, I would wait in the car while Dad went inside. Soon he would emerge from the house, carrying in his arms like a china doll his crippled uncle. I then would open the door and watch how tenderly, and with such affection, my father would place Uncle Elias in the front seat so he would have a fine view while I occupied the rear seat. The drive was brief and the conversation limited, but oh, what a legacy of love! Father never read to me from the Bible about the good Samaritan. Rather, he took me with him and Uncle Elias in that old 1928 Oldsmobile along the road to Jericho."  (President Thomas S. Monson, Hallmarks of a Happy Home, Ensign, Nov. 1988, p 70,71)".

"....A certain man went down to Jerusalem from Jericho, 

and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, 

and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead" (Luke 10:30)

When a certain lawyer wishing to test Jesus, to see how He as a Rabbi would answer one of the points of debate in the Rabbinical schools, he asked Him the following question: "Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?" (Luke 10:25). Jesus recounted to Him a parable in which He, by no chance, made the hero of the story a Samaritan. Jesus asked the lawyer what was written in the law of Moses regarding his question and the lawyer answered perfectly: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself" (Luke 10:27). The question, however, had not been asked to gain information but rather in the hope that Jesus would not give the right answer, Him not being a qualified Rabbi (John 7:15). When Jesus therefore affirmed the truth of the lawyer's answer, the lawyer pressed him further by asking Him who exactly was 'my neighbour'. This too was asked in an effort to discredit Him, for he knew full well that Jesus and the other Rabbis differed widely as to who fell in the category of a neighbour as Jesus had taught His followers: "Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love your neighbour and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you" (Matt 5:43,44) . To the Jews, their neighbours were the members of the House of Israel and no other. The Gentiles and all who opposed the Jewish people were considered enemies. The Saviour constructed the Parable of the Good Samaritan in such a way because centuries after Moses issued the law to 'love thy neighbour', the rabbis, in laying down for the people narrow and uninspired interpretations of this command, wrote the following: "We are not to contribute to the death of the Gentiles, but if they are in any danger of death we are not bound to deliver them, e.g. if any of them fall into the sea you need not take him out, for such a one is not thy neighbour." (Dummelow, A Commentary on the Holy Bible, p. 751).  By the time Jesus was born the hatred between the Samaritans and the Jews, which had been growing for centuries, was at its peak. The Samaritans were a mixed people, in whom the blood of Israel was mingled with that of the Assyrians and other nations thus they were not recognised as pure Israelites by their Jewish neighbours ("The Life and Teachings of Jesus and His Apostles, p. 38). "To the orthodox Jew of the time, a Samaritan was more unclean than a Gentile of any other nationality" (Talmage, Jesus the Christ, p. 172) hence a Samaritan could never be considered a neighbour.

Not only did the Saviour discredit the Rabbinic law of his day by the Parable of the Good Samaritan pointing out rather blatantly that both the priest and the Levite within the story had dishonoured their priesthood and brought disgrace upon their nation by not assisting their fellowman in most dire need but he elevated the hated Samaritan, who was considered an enemy, to the status of a neighbour who chose to make a half-dead Jew his brother (McConkie, The Mortal Messiah Book 3, p. 179). When Jesus asked the lawyer: "Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves?", the lawyer could not deny that this honour belonged to the Samaritan who showed mercy.

As we travel through life, we will find ourselves on the road to Jericho, from time to time, on which we will encounter many people with different needs; beggars on the street, struggling single mothers, grieving widows, abused children, impoverished families and men, women and children of all nationalities and of all races. The Parable of the Good Samaritan invites us to ask ourselves who we consider to be our neighbour. It is easy to love the lovelies but not so easy to love those with differing views, those who do not live up to our standards, those who mock us or revile us or even those who purposefully hurt us or those who are just plain 'different'. Do we elevate ourselves above others deeming them unworthy of our association or do we actively seek out those in need, no matter how lowly they might seem? Do we allow prejudice or racism to dictate our actions towards our fellowmen? The Saviour made no distinction between those He served. He associated with publicans and sinners alike and those who needed Him most. And when He atoned for us, He atoned for us all, without any exceptions. When we stood in line to receive His redeeming grace, we all received an equal portion, there was no favouritism there. And when we return home to receive our reward, we will find ourselves amongst black and white, rich and poor, small and great; in short, all who constitute the human family. May we reach out to each other in brotherhood and love that we may be found worthy to one day inhabit together our Father's Kingdom  reserved for the merciful, and the kind, and the loving and the humble and the penitent. 

"Bishop Victor L. Brown told this story to employees of the Church Education System on 9 September 1983. A lesson [on the Good Samaritan] was in a seminary class . . . in Korea. The sequel is told about a student who was in that class. This boy’s father was a physician and a rather affluent man. One day one of the father’s friends called and asked if he were having financial difficulty. His response was that everything was fine. “But why do you ask?” The friend said, “I saw your son selling newspapers on the street corner in Seoul the other day.” The father replied, “It couldn’t have been my son. He has a liberal allowance and has no need for additional money.” The friend said, “I walked up to him and talked to him, and it was your son.” When the boy got home from school that day, his father asked him about the incident. He indicated that he had been selling newspapers. His father asked, “Isn’t your allowance sufficient? Do you need more money?” When the son responded that his allowance was adequate, the father asked, “Then why are you selling newspapers?” He said, “There is a boy in our class at school who comes from a very poor family, and he must have help if he is to stay in school. Each week I have taken my allowance and bought newspapers. I, along with some of my friends, sell the newspapers and give the money to this boy so he may remain in school.” In addition the son had asked his mother to increase the size of the lunch she packed for him each day. She didn’t question him about this; I suppose she thought that as a growing teenager, he was just extra hungry. He told his father that this boy from the poor family went hungry, so he shared his lunch with him. The father asked, “Why are you doing these things?” He replied, “In seminary we have been studying the lesson of the Good Samaritan. I didn’t just want to know what the lesson taught intellectually. I wanted to know how it felt to be a Good Samaritan.”

WHEREAS I WAS BLIND, NOW I SEE

"A businessman was in a great deal of trouble. His business was failing, he had put everything he had into the business, he owed everybody - it was so bad he was even contemplating suicide. As a last resort he went to a priest and poured out his story of tears and woe. When he had finished, the priest said, 'Here's what I want you to do: Put a beach chair and your Bible in your car and drive down to the beach. Take the beach chair and the Bible to the water's edge, sit down in the beach chair, and put the Bible in your lap. Open the Bible, the wind will rifle the pages, but finally the open Bible will come to rest on a page. Look down at the page and read the first thing you see. That will be your answer, that will tel you what to do'.

A year later the businessman went back to the priest and brought his wife and children with him. The man was in a new custom-tailored suit, his wife in a mink coat, the children shining. The businessman pulled an envelope stuffed with money out of his pocket, gave it to the priest as a donation in thanks for his advice. The priest recognised the benefactor and was curious.
"You did as I suggested?" he asked.
"Absolutely", replied the businessman.
"You went to the beach?"
"Absolutely"
"You sat in a beach chair with the Bible in your lap?"
"Absolutely"
"You let the pages rifle until they stopped?"
"Absolutely"
"And what were the first words you saw?"
"Chapter 2"

- Anonymous

There was a man in Jerusalem who was born blind, beginning alms, supposedly sitting by the gates of the temple, a perfect place where beggars might elicit feelings of compassion from those who passed by (John 9:1,8). It would have been difficult for anyone seeing this man to suppose that his life had a purpose far beyond the temple gates, a purpose that would be a witness of Christ's proclamation that He is the light of the world, "the light which shineth, which giveth you light" (D&C 88:11), "a light which shineth in darkness, and the darkness comprehendeth it not" (D&C 34:2). Much like the modern day businessman who considered his life was over, many in his day would have considered the blind man's life over when it had begun but they would have been mistaken for there was in God's plan a 'Chapter 2' for this man also.  And this 'Chapter 2' came in the form of Jesus of Galilee.

When Jesus and his disciples passed by on a certain Sabbath and saw the blind man, His disciples questioned Him regarding this man's fate. They were eager to know why he was born into the world of darkness, unable to sustain himself and dependent on the pity of others all the days of his life. Because of Jewish belief that accidents and calamities came as punishment for sin (Bruce R. McConkie, The Mortal Messiah Book 3, page 199) they asked the Master 'who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind?' (John 9:2). Jesus' reply was that this man was born blind for a special purpose, that he may stand forever as a witness that Jesus was the Son of God (John 9:3). As a prelude to healing the man's blindness he proclaimed: "As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world" (John 9:5). He then spat on the ground and made clay of the spittle, and anointed the eyes of the blind man (John 9:6) admonishing him to go and wash in the pool of Siloam which the man did and when he came back, he 'came seeing' (John 9:7).

One can only imagine the joy with which this man came back. His healing, however, stirred the hornet's nest and changed his life forever in more ways than one for Jesus chose to heal this man on Sabbath day, a burdensome day for the Jews, 'a day on which Rabbinism goes wild in enforcing petty, Satan-inspired restrictions that defy all sense and reason, restrictions that serve no purpose except to stand as a witness of the dire apostasy then prevailing among a once-chosen and once-enlightened people' (Bruce R. McConkie, Mortal Messiah Book 3, p. 198). By healing the blind man, the Saviour deliberately violated the Rabbinical laws of the Sabbath for on that day it was forbidden to: 1. make clay, 2. apply a healing remedy to an impaired or sick person and 3. 'there was a specific prohibition against the application of saliva to the eyes on the Sabbath. This strange restriction came into being because of a common belief that saliva was a remedy for diseases of the eye' (Bruce R. McConkie, Mortal Messiah Book 3, p. 201).

Beside Jesus' attempt to open the eyes of the Jewish leaders so they can see that in Him is the correct law, it was His intention to put people in the position of choosing between Him as the Son of God and the Sabbath traditions of the elders which kept people in blindness and pernicious superstition. In effect, He was saying 'Choose you this day whom ye will serve' (Joshua 24:15). It would seem the blind man who came to see had ample opportunity to make this choice for he was called upon by the elders three times to account for his experience (John 9). When his testimony of Christ persisted, he faced the fate worse than death for the Jewish leaders had proclaimed that anyone who believed that Jesus was the Christ would be put out of the synagogue (John 9:22). In a religious society where excommunication from the synagogue climaxed in hate and vengeance, this would have been a very difficult choice to make. The man, however, could not deny the healing power he experienced and was cast out. When Jesus heard of it, he sought the man out and asked him if he believed in the Son of God to which the man replied: "Lord I believe" (John 9:38). And so for this man began Chapter 2. Not only because he came to see physically, but spiritually also. Having received of the greater light, he could now see the path to his salvation.

Which is the greater, spiritual or physical sight? In a world that seeks to tear us apart and keep us bound with traditions of darkness, we very often stumble and create situations from which we cannot see a way out. And often we are victims of circumstance and we suffer things beyond our control. Sometimes our suffering and our finite vision brings us to the point where we think that our life is no longer worth living and we contemplate the unthinkable but God is there with a contingency plan shining a lantern at our feet so we can see 'Chapter 2'. And once we are willing to trust in that contingency plan, we are empowered to turn things around, to value this mortal experience. Why? Because it leads to eternal life where all that we suffer in this life will be added to our glory. For there, where once we were blind, we shall 'see' and we will worship at His feet praising His goodness and mercy and declaring that He truly is 'the light of the world', a light which disperses all darkness and invites all men to come unto Him.

" Then spake Jesus again unto them, saying: I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life" (John 8:12)