Give It All?!

There was a widow of prayer
whose pantry was utterly bare,
when all else was spent
she gave her last cent
as God’s own daughter and heir.
© B.D. Prewer 2000 http://www.bruceprewer.com/DocB/B061112.htm

It’s a nice little ditty, a bit of a limerick from Australian writer, Bruce Prewer. It takes the story of the widow who gave “everything she had” and turns it into a bit of fun, perhaps with the intention of getting under our guard in relation to a story that we have heard many times before and yet often hold at arm’s length because we know full well the challenging demand it places on our lives. And we also know that it’s not just about a guilt trip to make us put more money in the plate. No, this story is far more demanding than that. It’s not just about money, it’s about life—everything we have, all we have to live on, our whole selves.

There was a widow of prayer
whose pantry was utterly bare,
when all else was spent
she gave her last cent
as God’s own daughter and heir.
© B.D. Prewer 2000

In relation to taking on commitments like that, we’re all in different places. Some of us are commitment shy; some of us rush in to make commitments that are just impossible to keep; some of us take so long trying to decide whether to make a commitment, that the opportunities pass us by; and some of us, perhaps just a very few of us, make and keep strong and long-term commitments to which we remain loyal the whole of our lives.

Some commitments come to us by our own decision; others are made for us by our being born into particular families or particular communities. Some commitments look like a pledge to one thing and turn out to be an obligation to something different entirely in the long run. Some commitments, perhaps a few of them, are clear and open and obvious from the beginning.

Perhaps one of the most significant commitments that any of us will make is to a life partner, a husband, a wife, a significant other.

I, N, in the presence of God, take you, N, to be my wife/husband. All that I am I give to you, and all that I have I share with you. Whatever the future holds, I will love you and stand by you as long as we both shall live. This is my solemn vow.

And I’d wager that I’d get excellent odds on the chance that none of us quite knew what we were letting ourselves in for on the days that we made such commitments.
Commitments are made when we open ourselves to the possibility that our priorities are not the only ones, and maybe even not the most important ones; when we make ourselves vulnerable to an other, to the future, and to possibilities other than we had imagined.

Commitments to each other—spouses, families, friends, communities—are part of the relational nature of who we are as humans. Different kinds of commitments are demanded in different relationships. In relation to our children and grandchildren, we know where our priorities lie—they’re number one! Others come in at different places on the continuum for a whole bunch of different reasons. But there’s no doubt, that commitments are us. Of course, that doesn’t mean we get them right.

The story of the rich people and the poor widow is a story about commitment. It’s a story about the kind of commitments that we can make when we have safe, stable secure lives—commitments which appear to be great, but which, in relative terms are just like dipping our toes in the water, rather than plunging in wholeheartedly. It’s also a story about the kind of commitments that perhaps we are only able to make from a position of vulnerability—wholehearted commitments that plunge us into an unknown future for the sake of our commitments to others.

All that I am I give to you, and all that I have I share with you. Whatever the future holds, I will love you and stand by you as long as we both shall live.

The call of God on our lives, to be the people of God, to share in the mission of God and the ministry of Christ, for the sake of the world, is a call that we probably only dare take on when we are most open, most vulnerable, most exposed. There are ways of pretending that the type of commitment that we’ve made is worth more than it really is; but it is only in our weakness, in our poverty, in our openness, in our vulnerability, that we are able to offer all that we have, everything we have to live on. For perhaps, it is only in such moments that we recognise that all that we have comes from God, all that we are is because of God, and all that we hope for is that which God has promised to us.

There was a woman of Zion
with nought but her faith to rely on,
as she came to God’s house
rich fools saw a mouse
but to Jesus she was a lion.
© B.D. Prewer 2000 http://www.bruceprewer.com/DocB/B061112.htm

Making wholehearted commitments isn’t for the faint-hearted, even as it is for those who are willing to vulnerable, willing to open themselves to unknown possibilities. The covenant affirmation which comes to us from the Methodist tradition paints a picture of just some of those unknown possibilities in the face of a wholehearted commitment to the purpose of God.

I am no longer my own, but yours.
Put me to what you will,
rank me with whom you will;
put me to doing, put me to suffering;
let me be employed for you or laid aside for you;
exalted for you or brought low for you;
let me be full, let me be empty;
let me have all things, let me have nothing;
I freely and wholeheartedly yield all things
to your pleasure and disposal.
And now, glorious and blessed God,
Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
you are mine and I am yours,
to the glory and praise of your name. Amen.

Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m not asking you to put your brains on hold, or run yourselves into burn-out, or make rash decisions without any thought for consequences. The Christian tradition has done enough of that. But if we thought that a commitment to God and God’s purposes could be a half-hearted or part-time affair, we’d be kidding ourselves—precisely because wholehearted commitments demand time and attention. Marriages don’t work without communication and communication not just on the easy things, but on the difficult things, the things that need working through. Caring for the members of our families and friends doesn’t happen when we just choose the good stuff. And working for a better world doesn’t happen when we’re only in it for ourselves. Wholehearted commitments require intentional work with long-term goals in view—goals that lie beyond our immediate circumstances, beyond our lifetimes, extending on into an infinite future. And commitment to that work and those goals requires that we recognise our own vulnerability and commit ourselves to act in the face of that vulnerability for the sake of God’s call.

There was a woman of Zion
with nought but her faith to rely on,
as she came to God’s house
rich fools saw a mouse
but to Jesus she was a lion.
© B.D. Prewer 2000 http://www.bruceprewer.com/DocB/B061112.htm