Commentary: Cheap Candy and Sick Lambs

I was lucky to work with Leo for many years. Leo played out a country-bumpkin persona to everyone's amusement. He'd often exit for lunch with the announcement, “I’m out for a cool RC and a Moon Pie.” Or, he’d get up from his desk at quitting time and bellow, “It’s time to blow the pop-stand.” (You must be from Ohio to understand that one.)

Leo feigned a Jack Benny-esque stinginess at every opportunity. He often found a way to break the ice with a new employee with some kind of prank. I remember the day he placed on the desk of a rather new secretary, a well-worn, heart-shaped Valentine candy box, complete with empty paper candy cups and cheap jelly beans. There was a note with a simple request: “Would you fill the papers with the candy so I can give the box to my wife for Valentine's Day?” I can still see Charisse glaring at those dime-store confections and the tattered candy box in disbelief and disgust.

When we want to convey our deep-felt affection for someone, we look for the best that we can find or afford – the best chocolates, the most voluptuous roses, the grandest restaurant.

In Malachi 4, the prophet relayed the angry words of God, “You show contempt for my name.” The reply from the priests was, “Who? Us? How!?” And the answer was simply, “You place defiled food on my altar. You bring blind, crippled, or diseased animals as a sacrifice. Oh, that one of you would shut the temple doors so that you would not light useless fires on my altar. I am not pleased with you and I will accept no offering from your hands.”

God asks from us our very best – our best sermon, our best solo, our best lesson, our best meeting … the best we can muster with our resources and our talents.

Glad we could get together.