Mark
12:38-44
November
11, 2018
William G. Carter
As Jesus taught, he
said, “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be
greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have the best seats in
the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! They devour widows’ houses and
for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater
condemnation.”
He sat down opposite
the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich
people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small copper
coins, which are worth a penny. Then he called his disciples and said to
them, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are
contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of
their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all
she had to live on.”
One summer
Sunday, one of our ushers didn’t show up. I don’t remember who it was, but
there was some consternation in the back of the sanctuary. The list of regulars
had been exhausted, and no fresh volunteers were presenting themselves. What I
remember is the lead usher looked at me, with a smirk on his face, and said, “Maybe
you could help us take up the offering.”
Well,
I’m usually up for a challenge. So, after the sermon the offering was announced.
Three ushers stepped up with four offering plates, as I stepped down to join
them. I have to tell you it was a complete revelation for me.
I
noticed what I can’t always see up here, that there are different styles of
putting the money in the plate. There is the sideways subtle drop, to suggest
this is no big deal. There is the grand flourish. And there is the family
bargain gambit, familiar from my childhood, where the parent says, “The
quietest child in the pew can do the honors.”
One
poor soul hadn’t paid much attention until there I was. He looked up, saw me standing
over him, and gasped, “Oh, it’s you.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out
a little bit more.
The
most difficult part of the job, however, was resisting commentary. I recall a prominent
man in an expensive suit. He put in a buck. I wanted to say, “Is that it?
Surely you could do better.” The lead usher caught my eye and shook his head,
as if to say, “Don’t say a word.” In the next pew sat an older woman, known to
be having a difficult time. She had four offering envelopes with a rubber band
around them. Each one was stuffed full. I wanted to say, “Are you sure?”
The
ushers decided to never ask me again. Some people squirmed with me stepping out
of the safe zone of the chancel. Others said, “That’s not his job. I’ll be glad
to volunteer whenever you need me.” The universal response, I believe, was a
certain unease at having the pastor observe what they were giving.
So I’m
interested in this brief story from the Gospel of Mark, where Jesus is watching
people make their donations to the temple. “Many rich people put in large sums.”
Is that an affirmation or a critique? Mark doesn’t say. He doesn’t describe how
he knew they were rich. Was it the way they dressed or the way they carried
themselves? He also doesn’t say how Jesus knew they gave “large sums.” In that
day, money came in coins, not paper. I’m guessing the coins jingled and clinked
when they dropped in the box.
They
didn’t have offering envelopes back then. Nobody was tracking the donations for
a tax write-off. And there wasn’t the cultural conspiracy of silence, where
giving is considered private and nobody else’s business.
When
my first congregation was invited to join in an ecumenical service at a Greek
Orthodox church, a lot of them were shocked to walk in, and, even before they
smelled the incense, they noticed the bulletin board by the door. Someone had posted
a typewritten list of everybody in the congregation and how much they gave. My
Pennsylvania Dutch folks were shocked. They were stunned. To have that
information right up where everybody could see it – and they did this on
purpose! It was horrifying and froze their German blood.
That
kind of information can be disturbing. A new person is recruited to count the
offering or post the donations on the computer. The finance committee will dispatch
me to train them, saying, “Please, please, please, count accurately but forget
the name attached to the gift.” Why? Because you might look at people
differently if you see what they give. In the words of our most venerable
offering counter, “I have the shortest memory in town.”
This
can be important. When you notice that loudest and most savage critic is giving
only a couple of bucks, you begin to see the hypocrisy. It may soften the
effect of their criticism. Yet I can also tell you, after years of observation,
that the largest givers to this congregation are not the wealthiest; they are
the most committed. I recall the wise words from one of my mentors, “Bring
people closer to Christ and their wallets come with them.” Everything comes with
them – talents and abilities, time as well as treasures.
And
what about Christ? There he sat, watching people put their coins in the
offering box. Actually they didn’t have a single box, but rather many
containers placed around the temple. These were not intended for outreach or
mission work – but for operations, to keep the temple flourishing. The temple
was a big operation; arguably, in Jerusalem, it was the only operation in town.
It was the only bank as well as the central shrine. The income was enormous. As
one historian reports,
There were
bequests coming in from all over the world, the world-wide levy of a fixed tax
(among the Jews), the animal sacrifices (and the purchase thereof), the
redemption of vows, the wood offerings, as well as the produce of the land
owned by the Temple. (The income) increased exponentially during the great
pilgrim feasts. Every good Jew was committed to spending a tenth of the produce
of his land in Jerusalem.[1]
With
all that money coming in, Jesus sits down and watches the crowd. There were offering
containers all around the Temple precincts. If you believed God was good to you,
you could make an additional “thank offering.” Moses encouraged this, as a way
of teaching thanks, of directing our gratitude to God who provides all the things.
What the people gave depended, as it still does, on the measure of their
engagement, the level of their involvement, the extent of their gratitude, and
the expression of their values.
Jesus
was watching. “The rich put in great sums,” says Mark, because they had great
sums, But what Jesus notices is that they give from their excess. These are the
leftovers after building a big house, eating a fine meal, purchasing nice
clothes. Here’s the leftover, the remainder. If those people are financially
blessed, they can tithe because they have an extra ten percent hanging around.
It’s not a sacrifice.
But just
imagine if you could be generous even if you didn’t have a lot of money. What
if God had come into your heart, filled it with light, released you from all
fear?
Just
then, he sees her. Almost missed her, but there she is. Jesus says, “Look at
that woman over there.” They are Jewish men; they’re not supposed to look at
women. But there she is, no husband in sight. She is quiet, never calling attention
to herself. She has no interest in getting her name on a plaque on the wall.
She gives her last two coins, pauses for a brief silent prayer, and moves on.
As
far as Jesus is concerned, he knows everything he needs to know about her.
Is
it the size of the gift? No, it’s not the size of the gift. She is not going to
pay for a single candle with her two pennies. Does he notice that she gives in proportion
to what she has? Not really, she’s not giving a ten percent tithe. She’s giving
a hundred percent, everything she has to live on. To quote Mark’s Greek text, “She
gave her whole living.”
It
is an enormous gift. Like the day when Jim was counting our weekly offering and
called me over. “Look at this,” he said. There is a cellophane-wrapped lollipop
in the offering plate with a note: “LOVE.” “Somebody made a sacrifice today,”
he said. We stood in awe of the gift.
Throughout
the ages, Christian preachers love to praise this generous widow. They praise
her total reliance on God, not knowing where tomorrow’s income will come, but trusting
her life to God. As somebody else’s sermon summarizes a lot of other sermons on
the text,
Jesus is impressed by her commitment
to give “her whole life to God.” At a critical juncture, the widow chooses
sacrifice over survival. It should come as no surprise that Jesus highlights
the widow’s example. Jesus is forever calling people to give their whole lives
to God. It’s central to his vision of discipleship. Put your hand to the plow
and don’t turn back. Leave family. Leave friends. Take up your cross and follow
me.”[2]
I think I’ve preached that sermon with other
words. It’s especially appropriate when we note that this story, the story of
the widow’s sacrifice, is placed by Mark as an event from the last week of
Jesus’ life. It happens around Tuesday of Holy Week, right before Jesus gives
his life. He points out her sacrifice before he makes his own.
But there’s something else that I see when I
hear the story this time. Jesus is watching the givers. Not just the woman, but
all of the givers. He notices the act of giving reveals what is going on in the
giver. Giving can be good for us, if it is generous and it empowers others.
Thanks to my good friend Virginia Miner, I
came across the wisdom of Maimonides. Ever hear of him? Maimonides was a 12th
century Egyptian Jew. He taught there are eight ascending steps of righteousness.
Every step had to do with generosity.
·
The
first step is taken by those who give grudgingly, reluctantly, or with regret.
·
The
second: those who give less than is fitting but give graciously.
·
Third:
those who give what is fitting, but only after being asked.
·
Fourth:
those who give before being asked.
Then
it gets interesting:
· The
fifth step: those who give without knowing to whom, although the recipient knows
the identity of the donors.
· Sixth:
Those who give without making their identity known to the recipients. Anonymous
givers.
· Seventh:
Those who give without knowing to whom, and neither do the recipients know from
whom they receive. They are anonymous and give without strings attached.
· Eighth:
Those who help others by giving a gift or loan, thereby helping them to
dispense aid to others.[3]
God
is on the eighth and highest step of righteousness. So are those who give
freely for the benefit of others.
So I
bring this up on the week after we have dedicated our financial pledges
for 2019. I don’t do that simply to nudge those who haven’t turned in a pledge
card yet. Neither do I do this because the lectionary of Bible readings has
scheduled this text for today. I do it because stewardship is not primarily about
fund raising; it’s about soul-making.
It
is good for us to give and to be generous. It is good to think about others and
to support the enterprises that we value. It is good to endow our commitment to
the generations that will follow us. It is good to provide others a “hand up”
and not merely a “hand out.” It is good to give ourselves away, in every
possible sense, so that others may flourish, and God’s gift of life can
continue beyond us. Jesus said as much: “What does it profit someone to gain
the whole world and lose your soul?” (Mark 8:35)
So
that is the Gospel’s invitation to all of us today: to live generously, to love
abundantly, to give ourselves away to the glory of God. The mystery of Christ’s
Gospel is precisely this: as we give ourselves away, we gain something that the
world can never take from us. Even more than that, we begin to look like Jesus
Christ.
[1] Joachim Jeremias, Jerusalem in the Time of Jesus (Philadelphia:
Fortress Press, 1969) 28.
[2] Brad Roth, “By middle-class
American standards, the widow’s decision is questionable,” The Christian Century, 9 October 2018
[3] Virginia Miner, “Don’t Touch the
Chicken Until We See If They’re Hungry,” in Speaking of Stewardship, William G.
Carter, editor (Louisville: Geneva Press, 1998) 112.
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