To improve his opportunities as an employee and eventual superintendent in the City of Arlington’s Traffic and Transportation Division, my dad became a licensed electrician. That trade certification did far more for friends and family than for his career (which advanced quickly enough on his acumen, tenacity, and bluntness). When an acquaintance needed a switch changed out or renovation wired in dad was their man, partially because he enjoyed electrical work in itself and partially because he wanted to help the person who needed it. More than once when someone would offer to pay him, I heard him reply: “If I charged, you couldn’t afford it.”
Were God to charge for mercy or forgiveness, grace or Spirit, we couldn’t afford it. When Simon Magus offers to purchase the Spirit’s power with silver, Peter’s response is blunter than my dad’s: “Your money perish with you.”
But what we normally offer at God’s counter is not money.
The respected religious leader in Jesus’ parable leaves the Temple without the justification he believes his fasting and tithing afford. In contrast, the traitor, collecting taxes from his own people for the murderous regime occupying their land, leaves the Temple with the justification for which he has nothing to offer.
We bring our finest accomplishments—attitude or achievement, service or sacrifice—to the negotiating table to see what God requires, only to discover that what we need is without price, because it is beyond price. Inviting Israel to his steadfast and sure love, Yahweh says:
“Come, everyone who thirsts,
come to the waters;
and he who has no money,
come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
without money and without price.”
To a week receiving from God and providing for others what is too expensive for price, and too valuable not to give away.