Today’s passage is Mark 12:35-44. Jesus asks how the Christ can be the son of David when David calls him his Lord. He says to beware of the show-off scribes who yearn for acknowledgement, give long prayers, but devour the poor. Jesus watches people putting their money offerings in the box. He tells his disciples that the poor widow giving the smallest of coins actually put in more than the wealthy.
How am I like the scribes and the wealthy givers?
What am I poor in? What do I need to give out of my poverty?
Today’s passage disturbed me and followed me all day long.
What is my poverty? I asked.
What am I not seeing?
I felt like Bartimaeus the blind man calling to Jesus for mercy.
I didn’t receive any insight or understanding until just a while ago when my wife and I were sharing about today’s passage.
I described an incident that occurred in my day.
I attended a long, dull, inconsequential meeting of international school heads.
We are required to meet three or four times a year.
Mostly the meetings allow us to stay in touch with each other because we are all extremely busy with our own school matters.
The real value comes after the official meeting when a couple of us can meet and share more personal things.
Today I learned that the wife of one of the school directors has been going through breast cancer treatments for the last year.
He had told no one else. He told me because I’d shared my testimony with him last year. He felt safe telling me.
I said how hard this must have been for him.
I said that when he first heard the news his mind must have jumped to the thought of his wife’s death and how empty his life would suddenly be.
I said he must have struggled with that thought and wrestled his mind back to therapy and hope. I said his tears must have hurt.
I said he must have felt extra lonely with her in London and him in Korea.
I saw him begin to tear up.
I asked his wife’s name so I could pray for her. He told me to keep the information about her condition quiet.
When I told him I would be sure to tell God not to mention it to anyone, he smiled.
Until my wife and I were sharing our stories of the day, I didn’t realize what I had done.
I didn’t see that I had gently helped my non-believing friend.
I didn’t see that I had been gentle with someone.
I didn’t see what I had done because gentleness is my poverty.
I am hardly ever gentle with anyone but children.
My bank account of gentleness is nearly empty.
I gave it all away today because of God’s grace and my mind full of today’s passage.
Application: focus on gentleness with others at tonight’s mokjang
Lord, fill me with your gentleness and kindness because I have none of my own. Without your Spirit of gentleness, I remain empty and hard.
