Sherry Sterling

Dear friends,

I mistakenly wrote about July’s third Thursday gospel reading last month, so I’m circling back to June’s for today (Luke 20:41-21:4).

It’s when Jesus tells his disciples that the poor widow who gave only two coins to the temple actually gave more than the rich did, because she gave all she had to live on.

This has me thinking about giving. What drives my giving? How do I decide what to give (time, prayer, presence, money)? And how much? And to whom? 

Likely like you, I’ve volunteered my time to help people or places in need. When natural disasters hit, I’ve been moved to donate. I’ve pledged to support my church community, I’ve given to other organizations and causes whose missions I support. When I see people who are unhoused on the corners of our streets, I’ve given water or snacks I have in the car. 

And sometimes I don’t. 

I can feel overwhelmed with the needs around me. And I can feel guilt for having more than so many, yet wanting to hold onto what I have for fear that if I end up in a bad situation, I’ll not have the resources I need.

I want to be a good steward. And a loving neighbor.

I was recently talking with someone about compassion, that it literally means suffering with another, carrying a bit of the burden—whether emotional or material, and how that lightens another’s load.

Do you know the Allegory of the Long Spoons? It’s a depiction of heaven and hell, that in both places, the inhabitants are given long spoons to eat from—long enough that they can reach the pot of soup in front of them, but too long to reach their own mouths with the full spoon.

The inhabitants of heaven are well fed, but the inhabitants of hell are starving. Remember, they have the same long spoons, and are provided with food in both places. The difference? In hell, they are focused on feeding themselves; in heaven, they feed each other. 

In hell, they contort themselves in all kinds of ways to try to bring that spoonful of food to their own mouths, and they starve in frustration. In heaven, they look at their neighbor’s plight and are moved to feed them, and allow themselves to be fed.

When we practice taking care and being cared for, we are tasting a bit of heaven on earth.

Peace and love,

—Sherry