Pointing to the Purveyor of Power

Standing in preparation for teaching a “Truth University” class for my church this summer (July 2010), I find myself looking at scripture with an eye bent on worship, holy worship, wholly worship. Scripture is replete with living testimony of hearts both tuned and discordant with the heart of God. The examples are extant, excitant and exhorting to a heart willing to submit to the teaching within each. I often find myself seeing into every story with eyes colored by the place God has put my heart. These past abundant months rear as those colored by a desire to understand, uncover, and unleash true Godly worship from my heart.

The beauty of the gospels is that none are identical, speak all of the same stories, but are threaded and woven together to give accurate account of a didactive discourse and dynamic doings of Jesus Christ, both man and God, demonstrating the desires of the Father to men.

Both Luke (21:1-4) and Mark (12:41-44), offer the brief, yet pointedly powerful account of a poor widow. The focus of many a sermon being that she put in more than others. For the first time I find myself hit by the howitzer of her humility, her powerful paucity.
Looking for the keys to worship, I have stumbled upon two central issues.

1. Acceptable worship is such because God accepts it.
2. His acceptance of it is directly dependent upon our diligent discernment in response to the resonant resident within us, the Holy Spirit.

Central to all issues of acceptable worship is an understanding of our rightful place with God, our poverty compared to His glorious riches. How often it is we come to Him giving Him what we believe are sacrifices, perceiving our offerings to be abundant and magnificent. It is here He sees into our hearts, reducing our haughty appraisal of the wealthy sacrifice to its actual significance, pathetically pale.

What is surprising to me is that Christ did not say that the others did not invest in the kingdom, or that their offerings were unacceptable, but that hers were more valuable because she trusted God enough to give all she had to live on, knowing that He would care for her every need. Her puny offering poignantly pointed to the purveyor of power and peace in her placated place. I wonder how often it is that we fail to see God move, because we don’t put ourselves into a place where we are solely dependent upon Him to provide, not just monetarily, but especially spiritually.

If I honestly believe that I am poor, and if I truly trust God for my provisions, offering out of my parched paucity, then will I hear from God. Then will I serve Him with all my paucity. Can it be that my puny offering poignantly point to The Purveyor of power and peace in my placated place? May it be so.