Jesus gave handouts
John 2: 1-11
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
January 19, 2025
Unsplash.com photo of an ancient stone or clay jar, pot, or vase with a handle visible on one side. Motley terra cotta patina with dark brown cracks in various places. |
Earlier this week, on Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday, a friend of mine posted this quote from one of his sermons, entitled “All Labor Has Dignity”. As usual he was pulling no punches.
“…America…is going to hell if she doesn't use her wealth. If America does not use her vast resources of wealth to end poverty and make it possible for all of God's children to have the basic necessities of life, she too will go to hell. I will hear America through her historians, years and generations to come, saying, ‘We built gigantic buildings to kiss the skies. We built gargantuan bridges to span the seas. Through our spaceships we were able to carve highways through the stratosphere. Through our submarines we were able to penetrate oceanic depths.’
“It seems that I can hear the God of the universe saying, ‘Even though you have done all of that, I was hungry and you fed me not. I was naked and you clothed me not. The children of my sons and daughters [my kindred] were in need of economic security and you didn't provide it for them. And so you cannot enter the kingdom of greatness.’ This may well be the indictment on America.”
Another friend of his commented with his fears and concerns, that we need to focus on this country first, on those who are trying to help themselves. He admitted that there are people who are not able to help themselves but that there are others who could do more to help themselves but don’t—they just want a handout. He is willing to help those who can’t help themselves but not so much those who could do more but don’t, who just want a handout. He agreed that ending poverty is a good concept but there would need to be parameters. Limits.
He pretty much summed up the human problem: we want things to change but we want to keep what we have. How did I respond? If you know me, you can probably guess. When Jesus healed someone, it was a handout. When Jesus fed the crowds, it was a handout. When the Samaritan dressed the wounds of the beaten man, put him on his animal and paid for his care at an inn, it was a handout.
I know we aren’t Jesus. We don’t have unlimited resources. But you know us clergy types tend to be Don Quixote-type characters, following that star no matter how hopeless, no matter how far. I explained in my response that it’s not how Jesus did the miracles he did, but why he did them.
Take for instance the wedding in Cana. Why did Jesus change the water into wine, when it appeared as though he wasn’t prepared to do so? This story comes from the gospel of John, which was the last gospel written, about 60-80 years after the life of Jesus. It’s highly unlikely that any of John’s readers would have known Jesus or any of his disciples or friends. So why kick things off with a story of a reluctant Christ?
Maybe Jesus had his own ideas about where and when he would be generous with his life. Maybe he didn’t want to encourage, enable drunkenness, which Hebrew scriptures warn against repeatedly. Maybe he thought he’d be spending more time with the poor and outcasts than those who can afford a seven-day wedding feast but don’t provide enough wine.
The gospel of John always has a larger story going on, that whatever is happening with Jesus is bigger than our ideas about him. This story starts with “on the third day” which harkens us to the resurrection. The wedding banquet is symbolic of the heavenly banquet, so it’s understandable that Jesus says, “my time has not yet come”. You don’t fulfill all things at the beginning of the story.
The story after this one gives us a clue. Right after the wedding at Cana, John places the clearing of the temple at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry rather than during the last week as in the other gospels. By clearing the temple at the beginning, Jesus puts a target on his back right at the get-go. It’s as if John is saying, “Look, we all know how this story ends. So, let’s remember that Jesus didn’t put up with people abusing religion for their own greed, but he also wasn’t going to stand in the way of people’s joy.” And not just a little bit of joy, but an abundance of joy and so good people could taste it. With no conditions or strings attached. And it was his mother who reminded him of that.
When Jesus gave a handout, he didn’t ask that it be earned and he expected nothing for himself in return. Another word for the handouts Jesus gave is ‘miracle’. Most people aren’t fond of either word. Handout because we connect that kind of charity with pity, shame and pride, but also with worthiness and outcome. Miracle because we’ve become so intellectual and jaded that miracles don’t really happen, if they ever did. And yet so often with Jesus’ miracles, we focus on how he did what he did rather than why.
Perhaps the better word to use is ‘agape’ which means self-gift. Every time Jesus gave a handout, he was giving a gift of himself and his love—unconditional, unmerited, and unlimited—what we also call ‘grace’. And that grace, that love brought joy especially to those who were denied God’s kin-dom because of who they were, because they were deemed unworthy.
How are we to comprehend and share God’s grace when everything else in this world must be earned? We say we don’t want to enable addiction or bad behavior and yet privilege is enabled by handouts called tax breaks, corporate subsidies, and generational wealth. It is said that poverty exists not because we cannot feed the poor but because we cannot satisfy the rich. And we know that plenty of people with privilege engage in addiction and bad behavior with their wealth.
What if America first meant first the poor, the outcast, the migrant, the incarcerated, the disabled, the queer and trans, the Indigenous, those descended from people brought here by force? What if America first meant universal healthcare, housing as a human right, and a living wage for everyone?
What I do know is that whenever I have given away some money to someone who has less than I do is that in that moment there is joy, connection, worthiness, and yes, solidarity. After all, we have more in common with just about everyone than we do with a billionaire. It’s about being seen, valued, and heard, from one human to another. It’s a spiritual practice of agape—unconditional, unmerited, unlimited love. Which does something for our hearts as much as theirs.
It's not an answer but it’s a place to begin. Thousands of years before Jesus started giving handouts, archaeology says that from examining a healed femur, we know that someone took the time to stay and care for that person while they healed. We evolve through compassion, self-gift, generosity. If we believe love wins, how else would it be so unless it wins through us? May it be so. Amen.
Benediction
Jesus' hands were kind hands, doing good to all,
healing pain and sickness, blessing children small,
washing tired feet and saving those who fall;
Jesus' hands were kind hands, doing good to all.
Take our hands, Lord Jesus, let them work for you;
make them strong and gentle, kind in all we do;
let us watch you, Jesus, ‘til we’re gentle too,
‘til our hands are kind hands, quick to work for you.
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