“I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly”
-- Jesus, from John 10:10
My wife and I went grocery shopping yesterday, a sobering mission in this season of COVID-19. I expected the toilet paper and cleaning products shelves to be empty (and they were, disappointingly, because we needed toilet paper), but I was unprepared for open spaces all over the store.
There was very little meat and no spaghetti sauce. Tuna, soups and beans were almost depleted. Aisle after aisle, much of the store’s stock was reduced to a few selections placed near the front of the shelving for an appearance of fullness, but in back there was only shadow.
We are Americans. We don’t know much about shortages.
As a child growing up in the time of the Cold War, I remember seeing newspapers and Life Magazine images of Russians in long lines, holding numbers, waiting for a chance to buy meat and toilet paper. Black and white photos of grim-faced babushkas, dressed in unflattering coats and head scarves, taught my generation that the American way was best.
We are Americans. We stand in lines only for buffet lunches and rock shows.
The only real shortage of anything I can remember was during the Arab Oil Embargo, which took place in 1973. I took a road trip to New York City at the height of it when locals could purchase gas on either odd or even dates, depending on the last number of their license plates. As travellers, we could purchase gas at any time, but we did have to wait our turn.
But, we are Americans. We produced our way to victory over the oil shortage.
As I stared at the grocery store’s empty shelves, I thought about those same aisles just a few weeks ago, packed with options. I thought about the lost jobs represented by those empty spaces. I thought about the failing economy pulled down by the weight of those lost jobs. I felt tears rising as I slipped into a moment of grief.
Then I was reminded of some critical truths. I am an American, yes, but first and foremost I am a citizen of the Kingdom of God -- the source of all good things, the provider of all we require, the creator of abundant living.
The blood of Jesus, it is like the widow’s oil.
When it’s all you have, it’s all you ever need.
The song is from Andrew Peterson, and you can find him online. The widow is from 2 Kings 4. She was destitute and a creditor was coming to take her children as slaves to satisfy her debts. Her only asset was one jar of oil. Through a prophet, God told her to pour the oil into every spare pot and pitcher she could find. He filled them all until the widow had more than enough oil to sell, pay her debts, and provide for her family.
Time and again the scriptures assure us that the creator is also the provider. What’s required is faith to see abundance when and where our eyes see scarcity.
We Americans are consumers. We are conditioned to work hard for the things we want and need. We’ve come to count on others also working hard to provide for us, so that they in turn can get what they want and need. It’s a great system, but like all human systems, it can break down. We are shaken when we see the supply chain disrupted.
But as citizens of God’s kingdom, as followers of Jesus, empty store shelves are a reminder not of what we lack, but of what we really have.
Bill Stiles
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