Pound for Pound
When the Corvette debuted, Chevy engineers knew they had a hit on their hands. But they were just getting started. The successor would have to be even greater. They would spend years designing components for the second-generation model, the Stingray, and untold hours evaluating the interplay of power, ability, cost, and – crucially – weight.
They looked at the existing model, and decided to upgrade to an independent rear suspension that reduced unsprung weight from 350 lbs to 250 lbs. The existing frame weighed 260 lbs, and the Stingray’s would as well, but its box-section members gave it 50% more torsional rigidity. The body came in a little heavier than the existing one. When it was all done, the second-generation car was between 34 and 50 lbs lighter than the old model. A few years later, a Corvette buyer could negate that weight loss by optioning the 396 big-block V8, which weighed 80 lbs more than the 327. But it made at least 75 more horsepower.
In sports cars and race cars alike, any component’s mass must be weighed against its utility. If something is heavy, it better be useful. If not, it’s gone. A few hundred pounds of engine are worth keeping, but even 50 pounds of air conditioning components are worthless. So, sometimes one pound isn’t equal to another pound.
To understand this inequality, Jesus’ disciples were given front-row seats to a real-life parable in the temple. Jesus had just finished talking about hypocrisy among religious leaders, who liked being treated like pious saints but loved acting like a power-hungry mafia. Then, “…Jesus saw the rich putting their gifts into the temple treasury. He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins. ‘I tell you the truth,’ he said, ‘this poor widow has put in more than all the others. All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.’” (Luke 21:1-4)
Numerically speaking, those two small coins were nothing compared to the treasures offered up by “the rich.” Yet Jesus counts things differently. The gifts of the rich seem to be given casually, at best, or selfishly. They either want the attention on them, or they’re giving without paying attention. For the widow, though, her heart is on her sleeve as she puts her little coins in the bin. Their value is worth more to her than the treasures are to the wealthy people, so her sacrifice seems to be worth more too.
God loves a cheerful giver. He’s after our heart, not our wealth, because he owns it all in the first place (“The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it.” Psalm 24:1) So he wants us to make the decision to Him to never regard our possessions as ours.
Yet there’s a practical side here too. When the temple has its annual bake sale, free dinner for the housing insecure, or financial literacy class for the community, who do you think is the most eager to help? Probably the widow. Her heart motivates her gift and her service to anyone who needs it. Her monetary gift, and the gift of her time, do more to advance God’s purposes in the world than someone who’s just going through the motions.
Like an automotive engineer designing a new car, God allocates specific resources for specific uses. He has a purpose in the hearts and lives of everyone – everyone – and He uses us, and the gifts at our command, to make it happen. Your time, talent, treasure, and testimony can have tremendous power when they’re offered to God for His purposes. Otherwise, it can be dead weight.
So, which will it be?
