Thursday, October 28

Araunah said, “Why has my lord the king come to his servant?”

“To buy your threshing floor,” David answered, “so I can build an altar to the Lord, that the plague on the people may be stopped.”

Araunah said to David, “Let my lord the king take whatever pleases him and offer it up…O king, Araunah gives all this to the king.”

But the king replied to Araunah, “No, I insist on paying you for it. I will not sacrifice to the Lord my God burnt offerings that cost me nothing.”

2 Samuel 24:18-24 (selected)

Almost 30 years ago I spent a summer in inner city Pittsburgh working with Hmong refugee families. These dear people had fled their homeland (Laos) only to find themselves living in poverty in slum-like conditions in America. Early in my time there I learned that the Hmong women and children augmented the family income by digging for worms in the city park that was just across the street from the church where I lived. They would sell them at local bait shops and earned $7 for a gallon jug of night-crawlers.

One of the Hmong kids I got to know that summer was Neng – a 14 year old boy who was loud, angry and fond of using four letter English swear words. He was hard to have in the group and hard to like. But over the course of a few weeks I built a little trust with Neng and he told me some of his story. When he was 10 years old he watched as his father was gunned down in front of his home by guerillas; when he was 12 he escaped Laos by swimming across the Mekong River in a hail of gunfire. I remember thinking that when I was 12 I was playing Little League baseball.

A few weeks later the time came for me to leave Pittsburgh and head back to graduate school. We planned a little ice cream party for the Hmong kids – we had one last evening of fun together – then said our goodbyes. Later that night, as I was packing my stuff, I heard a voice called to me from the sidewalk below my apartment. I looked out the window and saw Neng motioning for me to come down. I went down to see what he wanted and he quickly shoved a small envelope into my hand and said, “Maybe you can buy some food,” and he pedaled away on his little sting-ray bike.

I stood there a long time before I opened the envelope – because I was afraid of what I would find. When I opened it there was a $10 bill inside. I never forgot that expression of love and generosity – because I knew what it had cost Neng to earn that money. I knew it was a gift given from scarcity.

I think that’s what Jesus is trying to teach us in this story. There is a kind of giving that flows from our abundance – and of course, that is good! But there is another kind of giving that comes from our scarcity – an uncomfortable and costly kind of giving. And it is this kind of giving that Jesus sees in the poor woman. This is what King David means when he says, “I will not sacrifice to the Lord my God burnt offerings that cost me nothing.”

As I look at my own life, I see that this kind of giving - costly, sacrificial giving – always flows from love; not duty, not obligation, not guilt, but love. What my little friend Neng said to me through that $10 gift was, “I love you.” What the poor woman said to God through her gift of two small copper coins was, “I love you.”

That makes me wonder about what my giving says to God. Do my gifts say, “Here’s what’s left over,” or “If I have to, I suppose I can spare this!” or, “I love you!” Take a few moments to ask yourself these same questions – then take your answers to God in prayer. Ask him to help you to increasingly align your love for him with your generosity!

Brian Coffey