Winifred is the Example

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      In 2004, I spent two weeks working at a little Jamaican Church out of Brownstown, Jamaica. Our job was to replace the roof of the old church with a metal roof that would be more durable in the hot damp weather and better suited to endure the high winds and rain of hurricanes. We stood in the back of a flat bed truck as we made the 30-minute drive down some of the worst roads I have ever known. When we came to the church, our mouths dropped as we stood there in amazement, wondering where we should really start to make this an appropriate worship area. The roof was bad, but it was no worse than the rest of the structure. We knew we had our work cut out for us.
      Sitting just beside the front door of the church was a little lady in a wonderfully colorful dress with a bonnet on her head and a warm white smile as she greeted each one of us with two-handed handshakes from soft kind hands. “Welcome,” she said to each one of us in her beautiful Jamaican accent. She told us her name was “Winifred” and that she was a lifetime member of the church.
      As work began, we recognized that as permanently ruined as the church was, Winifred, the lifetime member, was perfectly fixed in her faith and would be permanently present for the whole two-week operation. We soon learned that the church body was not in as much decline as the church building since the parish was filled with abundant and faithful members. That is a better situation than the other way around.
      Winifred brought us water and told us stories about the wonderful worship in this church over her years of membership. When we removed the pews and altar for preservation from the risk of damage due to the work, Winifred kept all of the items wiped clean of dust, made sure they were stacked just perfectly to avoid damage, and stood guard over any attempt to disrespect the sanctuary. Winifred was as sacrificially careful as she was faithful.
      Winifred and I became good friends and on four occasions, Winifred invited me to spend the night at her home with her family; a daughter and 3 grandchildren. I was an honored guest at their home on those evenings, the meals were excellent and filling, and the night’s rest was peaceful in a hammock strung under the eves of her home where I could hear the local parrots as they cooed the night away.
      On our last day at the work site, as we finished placing the worship items back into the church, Winifred could not stop admiring the new metal roof while again and again pointing out the improved ventilation due to some of our creative engineering. She also gave us two-handed handshakes with red eyes from grateful tears as her joy and gratitude was impossible to contain.
      Just before leaving for the last time, Winifred had us sit as she spoke to us from her heart about our work and the wonderful worship for God’s Kingdom that would take place under our roof for years to come. Her Jamaican words were glorious, and the sweet flow comes to my mind even as I now write of this event 6 years later.
      Then, she came over to me and gave me a big bag of “pimento,” the Jamaican word for allspice. This spice is a mainstay in “jerk” cooking for which the Jamaicans are known. Winifred grew this spice at her home and sold it to make money for the education of her grandchildren. The huge bag was enough to provide a week of education for her three granddaughters. I was humbled to my knees. I cried openly in unworthy gratitude and embarrassment. How could I, a salaried minister from the most affluent nation in the world, accept this gift from a poor Jamaican woman whose diet consisted of what she could grow or what her few chickens could produce?
      I was being taught about giving from a poor Jamaican woman. Winifred had opened up the heavens to reveal to me how I should give. She had reordered my understanding of wealth and stewardship in a way I have never known.
On that afternoon I learned to view my tithe and gifts to the church not from my perspective but from God’s perspective. To this day, when I give, work, or serve, I ask, “What does this offering mean to God?”
In Isaiah 1 and in other writings of the prophets, it is plain that not every offering (sacrifice) is pleasing to God. In the Gospels many statements that Jesus made about tithing expressed that there gift was an abomination against the tither (Luke 11:42, and 18:9-14). However, God was overwhelmed with joy at the gift of the widow who put two small coins from her poverty into the temple offering, and God was pleased when Zacchaeus promised to give away half of all he had taken unjustly from the poor.
      Today, when I give, I always ask, “Is God pleased with my offering?” When I pledge I ask, “Is God praised by my pledge?” When I serve, I ask, “Is God served by my work?” No one can answer these questions for me. I alone must pray and discern what God would expect and then do my best to overwhelm God that God might be touched by my sacrifice. I never forget how Winifred trusted God enough to give out of her simple life without regard or fear. She gave only out of her generous heart.
      Every day, I have a living example of how to give. Winifred is my example. I owe God tearful, two-handed handshakes and gifts out of my sacrificial gratitude.

Rev. Dan Martin is pastor of First UMC, Hendersonville. He can be reached at moose1953@hotmail.com