Author: Dave Dishman (Page 6 of 450)

Our church doesn’t pass the plate anymore. By that I mean we don’t regularly hand an offering basket through the rows of congregants on Sunday mornings. The practice was paused during the Covid days, and now one gives either online, or by dropping a contribution into boxes at the back of the sanctuary.

I never watch people drop checks into the offering box, but Jesus did. I wonder how often? One day he observed several rich people dropping in large sums, so it must have been obvious what they gave. Part of the show of wealth, I suppose. But then a poor widow humbly placed two copper coins in the box, worth about a penny. In today’s values, even less than that.

Jesus called his disciples over and said, Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.

Such a challenge. While I try to be a good giver, I don’t hand over everything I have to live on, not even close. Sounds crazy. But I do notice that as I give, God returns his favor. Also, I can give of my time, talents, influence, expertise and labor along with my finances. Opportunities arise on every side.

I don’t have near enough faith to give away everything I possess. Nor do I feel that God is asking me to do so. But this teaching bounces around in my head. What can I give, or what should I give? What needs draw my eyes? Maybe a better way to say it is, what copper coins do I cling to that would serve better by donating them to the kingdom of God?

It’s worth some consideration. A humble widow, giving a minuscule amount, sparked generous giving for two thousand years. God certainly multiplied her gift. He can do the same for you and me as well.

Mark 12:41-44

Photo by Leiada Krözjhen

In an abrupt interaction, Jesus responded to a Gentile woman who begged him to deliver her daughter from demonic torments. Clearly in distress, she rushed up to Jesus and fell as his feet.

Then he said to her, Let the children be fed first, for it is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs. Which sounds rather rude, but Jesus hoped to unearth this woman’s faith. She answered him, Yes, Lord; yet even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.

Recognizing her clear faith, Jesus responded, For this statement you may go your way; the demon has left your daughter. She then ran home to find her little girl lying in bed and demon-free.

Two wonderful truths emerge from this story. First, Jesus opened his arms to all people, Gentiles included. Christianity will spread far beyond Israel to encompass the entire world, good news for you and me.

Second, it only takes a tiny bit of faith for the Lord to work. If you maneuver onto a frozen pond with piddling faith that the ice will hold you, yet the ice is two feet thick, you’ll be fine. If you have all the faith in the world and the ice measures one half inch, you’re headed for a dunking. Faith is not the point—it’s the object of our faith that matters.

Merely a crumb. Doesn’t feel like much, but a sliver of faith can change the world.

Mark 7:24-30

Photo by Yue Iris

Life fills with frustrating circumstances beyond our control. Things seem to go along smoothly, then we lose a job, or our home furnace goes kaput, or a good friend decides to leave his wife. Maybe all in the same week. Life roils underfoot and we hope for a settling to come our way.

Isaac grew wealthy in his adopted land, with huge flocks and herds of livestock and many servants to manage his wealth. His status caused consternation among his neighbors, and he decided to move farther away to ease the tension. Except the tension followed.

Isaac’s men dug wells for their animals, but the herdsman of the land claimed the water for themselves. Isaac named the first well Esek, meaning contention. The second digging turned out worse, so Isaac dubbed that well Sitnah, meaning enmity. Finally, with enough distance between the quarreling parties, the third well produced clear water and calm spirits. Isaac christened that well Rehoboth, meaning broad places, and said For now the Lord has made room for us, and we shall be fruitful in the land.

Peace arrived only after a great deal of settling into place. The Lord watched over Isaac and took care of his family. But not without the frustrating circumstances of life. God blesses, yes, but we still live in a fallen world with sinful people just like ourselves. Often when things seem to be cruising along, someone decides to stop up our well.

That said, it’s wise to pause and thank God for the wells of clear, fresh water in our lives. Isaac thanked the Lord for bringing him and his family into a place of fruitfulness. He took time to purposefully name a well in honor of the Lord. He sought the Lord in challenges, and he honored the Lord in times of blessing. May you and I do the same.

Genesis 26:17-22

Photo by Frank Albrecht

I have squirrels in my yard that drive me crazy. Whether it’s eating my strawberries or chewing on deck furniture, these diabolical creatures never relent. I try to haze them and run them off, but neighbors on either side of me enjoy feeding the squirrels, so they never go far. I pray for hawks or foxes to discover the plenty of game, to little avail. Mostly I get angry and hurl a few choice words, which the squirrels seem to take in stride.

David wrote about anger in the midst of his leadership journey: Be angry, and do not sin; ponder in your own hearts on your beds, and be silent.

One can be angry and be in the right. Anger doesn’t necessarily lead to sin. If someone cuts me off in traffic and creates a dangerous situation, I’m justified in my anger. But if I pass that person and flip them a sign of disrespect, then my anger has morphed into sin.

David goes on to say: Offer right sacrifices, and put your trust in the Lord. One helpful action with our anger is to take it to the Lord. Back away and give the situation some thought. Take a deep breath, keep quiet, and offer the outrage up to God. This practice gives balance to our initial reactions that tend to escalate the situation.

Sometimes well-placed anger moves us to take useful action. David showed this throughout his life, including his confrontation with Goliath. Acting on our anger after careful thought often leads to necessary change. Blowing up in the moment—not so much.

The result of taking our anger to the Lord? David closes with one way he experienced God in the midst of righteous anger: In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.

In the end, our Father helps us make things right. We may suffer in the interim and remain frustrated with situations beyond our control. But the Lord provides the peace needed to lie down and get a good night’s sleep, a pleasure anger never yields.

Psalm 4

Photo by Alexandra Mirgheș