In the Gospel of Mark, there is a story of the Pharisees approaching Jesus and asking him for a sign. Mark indicates that they were wanting to test him, but I’ve always thought that what they were really looking for was some evidence. “You claim to be the Messiah—where’s the proof? Show us a sign!”

If that’s the case, then the Pharisees are in good company, because who among us has not asked God for a sign? “You tell me, God, that you love me and that you are watching over me. Could you please show me something that would prove it?”

One of my favorite authors, Frederick Buechner, once imagined a scenario in which God did just that. Let’s suppose, said Buenchner, that one night God rearranged the stars in the Milky Way to spell out the words: “I Really Exist … Signed God.” What would happen?

Buechner concluded that the following Sunday worship services would be filled to capacity. In fact, they would overflow into stadiums and open fields. A kind of hush would settle on the world—but only for awhile. And then things would slowly return to normal—because as that message burned on in the night sky, week after week and year after year, people would eventually begin to take it for granted. In time, the world would look up and see the message, and say, “So what?”

I think Buechner is precisely right ... and he’s right in two respects. In the first place, it is the nature of holiness to be absorbed into the background. For example, if tonight, you were look up into the vast Milky Way, there is a message of God written there. But we have seen it so often that we have become blind to it. The wonder of it has been absorbed into our assumptions, so that it now takes a special vision to see it.

But Buechner is right in another respect as well. The question “So what?” is the appropriate one because, if that is the only message there is—that somewhere, out there in the universe, God exists—then frankly, that’s not the sign we need. The sign we need is to know that there is a God who is right here beside us, a God who is willing to draw close enough to enter into a relationship with us. That’s the sign we need. And in the person of Jesus Christ, that’s the sign we get.

The irony of this passage from the Gospel of Mark is that the Pharisees were asking Jesus for a sign—and he was the sign! God sent the only Son to be a part of our lives—what greater proof of God’s love could we possibly want?

A friend of mine who serves a congregation in downtown Philadelphia shared this story with me recently, and I thought it worth passing along to all of you.

In his church, on the fifth Sunday of every month, they collect a special hunger offering. It is during the singing of the final hymn, and those who wish to contribute are invited to come forward and place their offerings in a basket on the communion table. They take half of the money and send it off to various global mision programs for hunger relief, and the other half they give to local agencies to feed people right there in the heart of Philadelphia.

They have been doing this for about ten years, and according to my friend, the offerings are always a huge success. Last year alone they raised close to $50,000! “We are very proud of this offering,” he told me—and rightfully so.

However, one Sunday during the taking of that offering, as the final hymn was being sung and the people were streaming forward, a woman nobody knew began to move quietly down the center aisle. From the way that she was dressed, it was quickly apparent to the congregation that she had either spent the night out on the streets or in one of the homeless shelters.

People started whispering to one another, “This is the kind of person we’re taking the offering for. Is she really going to make an offering herself?”

Indeed, she did. When she got to the table, she stopped and made the best offering of all. She folded her hands and she prayed.

My friend told me that, in a sense, it was a wake up call for the congregation, because it helped to remind them that they weren’t just collecting money for the hungry. They were making an offering to God. In effect, they were giving their loaves and fishes to the Master, who would then multiply their gifts in miraculous ways.

After all, it’s not what we do that is important … it’s what God can do through us!