But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to abolish things that are, so that no one might boast in the presence of God.
1 Corinthians 1:27-29
It is a good thing, every once and awhile, to be proven a fool. Mark Twain once wrote, ”The proverb says that Providence protects children and idiots. This is really true. I know it because I have tested it.” I too have tested it from time to time and also proven it to be true.
Many of you know that I have a Special Needs daughter, Jennifer, now in her 40’s. But when she was young, and I was younger, apparently I would berate fellow drivers I deemed incompetent as being “Idiots!” as we traveled the highways and byways of Atlanta. It was something I didn’t’t notice until the two of us took a trip to Cherokee, NC. As we entered the town, I commented that we would probably see a lot of “Indians.” Jennifer immediately became upset and told me, “You’d better be careful driving with all these idiots around!” Lesson learned. Be careful what you say and do around your children for they shall surely embarrass you with it some day or, perhaps, even make you proud.
I too paid attention to my elders and learn from what they said and did. My first “Saint” I would like to lift up to you was my maternal grandmother, St Mary Jane Thiel, the Patron Saint of the Bakers of Bread. (I just made that up.) She was what we would call today a “housewife” or “domestic engineer.” We spent much of our summer breaks growing up at her house in Daleville, PA, a town so small, it didn’t even have a crossroads, just a “T” intersection.
My grandpa was a mechanic at a Buick dealership in nearby Scranton, PA. I know this may be difficult to take in, with our bank accounts online and debit cards, but he came home every Friday with a long, thin envelope with his wages inside…in cash. As soon as he got home, he pulled that envelope out of his shirt pocket and the two of them would sit at the kitchen table, which had been cleared for what they were about to do. My grandma would empty the envelope and begin to divide its contents into small piles. The first pile was always “God’s money,” their tithe. Exactly 10% to the nickel. After that, separate piles for bills and utilities with the remainder deposited in a small jar. That jar had a place of honor on top of the refrigerator.
Us children knew that jar well, for when it once again was brought to the table, we knew that we might be gifted a quarter, or even two, to take to the one store in town a little ways down the main road at that T-intersection. It was gas station, grocery store and host to many wondrous things. We would go there every Saturday, weather permitting, to walk its isles filled with all the things that excited our imaginations. Many kinds of candy. Comic books filled with heroes and adventure. And a number of small toys that we would have to save our money to afford. Our hearts would race as we walked the quarter mile or so day dreaming of all the ways we would satisfy this week’s longings. And the excitement would continue once we entered as we bounced back and forth as to just how to spend our vast fortunes. We were just overwhelmingly giddy!
Now, when I look back at our innocent folly, I wonder if that is how God feels in anticipation of how the saints of Christ’s Church ponder how they will use their own fortunes to fund the missions of love and mercy the Holy Spirit has led us to undertake. Is it sacrilege to think of God as becoming giddy? David did! I hope not, because I cannot help but wonder if God’s heart flutters with excitement at how we will sit around our kitchen tables deciding how to allocate our blessings? Do our own hearts ever flutter in that task? Do our hearts attack those decisions in faith or do those decisions give us heart attacks?
In my heart and mind, I can still see my grandparents sitting at that kitchen table making their faith decisions. They did so with thankful and committed hearts. They were members of a small United Methodist Church, located so close that we just walked every Sunday. That church, those folks who attended and the work they would set out to do, both in the village of Daleville and in the world, was my introduction to the ministry of the people of God, Christ’s Church. Much of hearts memories are still there. I conducted the funeral services of both my grandparents there. It was probably the reason that, in my North Georgia Conference ministry, I was always drawn to the smaller country and suburban congregations rather than the large city churches. But in congregations large and small, the work of the Kingdom of God gets done the people. Each family giving of their many blessings so that the Gospel may be spread and served.
My prayer for each of us, my good friends in Christ, is that we get foolishly giddy for Jesus as the Holy Spirit shows us the tasks that need doing from within our walls to to homes and families around town, state, country and world. In that giving, we are enriched beyond measure.
Blessings,
Rev. Dr. Jim McGrath
