The Unuttered Coin
’ Though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and have not charity, it proHteth mc nothing. — i Cor. xiii. 3.
WHAT Paul means is, that no material donation is equal in value to a wish of the heart. That is a very startling statement. It is not our common view. You meet a ragged beggar. You give him a coin. As he departs, a sense of deep pity rises in your heart, and follows him down the street. You feel what a short way your coin will go to make the man happy; you breathe the prayer, ‘’ God help the poor creature! “Your opinion is that this last part of the transaction does not count. Paul says it is in God’s sight the part which counts for most. What He calls your charity is not the thing bestowed, but the thing you would like to bestow. He measures your munificence, not by your gift, but by your sympathy. I have read in the Acts that He set up in heaven a monument to CorneHus for his charitable prayers. The man who gets the grandest monument in heaven is the man whose love goes beyond his contributions. However big his contributions be, his love must go beyond them. No gift should be able to express the whole heart; if it does, the heart must be small. At the moment when you have given your best, your love cries, “It is nothing to what I should like to do! “And the Father says, ‘’This nuuttered coin is the measure of you; to this unspoken sympathy I wil’l raise a monument.”
Build to my love, O Father, build to my love! Not by what I can do for my brother do Thou judge me! My deeds are paltry and poor. What can the pebble do that I cast into the sea of human misery! It cannot lessen the depth of that sea. But my heart is bigger than my hand; build to my heart! My love is stronger than my leading; build to my love! The Psalmist prayed that Thou wouidst accept all his burnt ofiferings. There is not one of mine zi’orth accepting! But Thou hast promised to accept the iDiuttered coin, the sympathy that cannot speak. I have seen in Thy heaven a monument raised to the munificence of a pauper! I marvelled at the paradox. I could not understand how Thou shouldst commemorate the munificence of one who lived in a garret and received her bread from the pity of the crowd. But I forgot Thy measurement of munificence. I forgot that the heart of a pauper might have golden wishes for humanity. I forgot that it is to the heart’s gold the heavenly tablet is raised. Help me to remember that gold, O Lord! When I feel my earthly nothingness, when I deplore my human poverty, help me to remember that gold! When I lament that I am a burden, help me to remember that gold! When I murmur against my uselessness, when I bemoan my forced inaction, when I spurn the invalid couch on which I am compelled to lie, help me to remember that gold! Let me see the riches of the unuttered coin, of the wwspoken sympathy; let me behold the monument Thou hast erected to munificent prayer! Let me learn that the highest subscriber is the donor of love!