It was a teaching moment. As Jesus was watching the contributions go into the temple treasury, he noticed a widow. She was placing two copper coins into the box. Jesus drew the disciples’ attention to the widow and noticed her generosity. Where others gave out of their wealth, she gave out of her poverty (Lk. 21:1-4). Where the rich, who gave a lot, only gave a small portion of their wealth, she gave everything she had though the total amount was the sum value of maybe a penny. Jesus’ commentary on her giving was Kingdom of God valued; she gave more than anyone else.
God looks more at the giver than the actual gift.
When Samuel was in the process of anointing the new king for Israel, God told the prophet not to be consumed with their looks but their heart (1 Sam. 16:7). David’s brothers looked more royal than the scrappy boy tending his father’s sheep. But Israel had already been down that road with someone looking kingly but not acting kingly. God wanted someone whose heart was set on him, not on the power kingship brings to the monarch.
The theme of weakness into strength recapitulates throughout Scripture. The humble will be lifted. The rejected will be accepted. The powerless will find power. So it’s no wonder that somewhere along the way someone creates a story like the drummer boy.
In the story the little boy found his way with the throng of people who heard that the Messiah had arrived as a baby in a manger. People were bringing gifts, but the little boy had no gift to bring. Many of the people had the means to travel and the resources to present great gifts. The little boy had nothing and the long journey was beyond both his means and his ability.
When the boy finally reached Bethlehem and stood before the baby king, he watched the adults present their gifts to the child and his parents. Shame swelled over him. He neither had a gift nor could afford such luxuries. He stood there like he was out of place and overwhelmed.
Finally his opportunity to present his gift came to him. He hands were empty. His poverty spoke volumes as he stepped forward. Confessing his lack of gift, he offered the one thing he had. He offered to play his drum. With the mother’s blessing, he started to play. Amazingly, the crowd grew silent, the animals joined in the song and the baby smiled.
Such a small gift, such a simple song. Yet it strikes at something near to the heart of God. For God continues to look not at how big the gift is, but how big the heart that gives the gift.
A hug. A cup of water. An encouraging text. A lunch at a fast food restaurant. A meaningful prayer. An offer to babysit. A phone call. Cleaning up a mess. Holding a baby so a mother can have a moment of peace. Dropping your last few coins in the collection plate because it’s all you have.
Where we’re consumed with how big and impressive our gift to God is, God is far from amused. He’s looking at the heart of the giver, such as the level of generosity, the amount of cheerfulness and the volume of faith when the giver gives.
Maybe that’s why we’re drawn to a little drummer boy.
Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)