The Widow’s Mite

               On the third Sunday of each month I serve as an Usher at St. John’s Lutheran Church, the church I attend regularly.  Part of the Usher’s duty is to stand at the door of the sanctuary, greet members as they arrive, and pass out the bulletins.  As the time for the Divine Service arrives we watch as the Acolyte walks in to light the candles, followed by the Pastor; then, reminiscent of Noah and the Ark, we close the doors to the sanctuary and the Service begins.  Then the Usher’s job is to count the members to make a record of attendance.  We do this by standing in the balcony looking over the rail at the congregation.

               Ushers then enter the Sanctuary to participate in the Service.  Usually there are two to four of us along with the Elder of the Month sitting in the chairs on the back wall.

               Not long ago on a Sunday I arrived a little early, was gathering up my handful of bulletins, and preparing to be an Usher when one of the Elders noticed an elderly lady standing outside the church.  As the lady entered the Narthex I saw that she had not previously attended, so I welcomed her and handed her a bulletin.  She hesitated before entering the Sanctuary; told me that her husband was recently deceased, and then asked me if I knew of someone who could help her.  I had difficulty understanding exactly what she needed, but thought immediately of a group in the church who might be able to assist; told her to go in and find a seat and I would send someone to talk with her.

               I continued with my Ushering duties until a person who is a member of the group which I thought might help the lady came in.  I pointed her out to this man, asked him to speak with her and he did.  I heard later that she was illiterate; the help she needed was to learn to read and write; and that teaching was arranged.

               Another of the Ushers duties is to pass the plates to collect the offering.  When the time in the service arrived for that to occur we Ushers divided up the plates and determined which aisle each of us would work.  The aisle to which I was assigned turned out to be the one where the visiting lady was sitting.  This was the early service with many empty pews; and the lady was sitting alone.  As I walked slowly up the aisle passing the plates to the left and right, I considered whether I should extend the offering plate to her.  She was sitting in a pew alone; I wished not to embarrass her, and I doubted if she had an offering to give.  I almost bypassed her, but I noticed that she was fumbling with a coin purse she had gotten out, so I stopped and waited while she slowly counted out a few coins to put in the plate.  It seemed to take forever.  I could not help but notice a few silver, and some copper coins.  I was immediately thankful that I had given her the opportunity, and spared her the chagrin of being bypassed.  I also was reminded of the words of the Lord Jesus quoted in Luke 21:  “This poor widow has given more than all the others”.

               I do not know the amount others contributed as we Lutherans usually put our offering in an envelope.  I’m sure their contributions were substantial; but it may well be that on that Sunday this poor widow gave more than all the rest.