My Two Cents' Worth

11-8-15 (Proper 27/Ordinary 32 B, Semi-Continuous)

Ruth 3:1-5, 4:13-17; Mark 12:38-44

My Two Cents’ Worth

I like to people watch.  It’s gotten to be something of a hobby over the years, walking through malls and other places and seeing the different kinds of people who wander about.  Sometimes, when I see some people who are particularly interesting, my mind invents little narratives for them - why they walk with such a sad air, what’s causing them to whistle “What a Wonderful World” as they walk down the sidewalk, why they seem so intent on getting to where they’re going.  So it’s interesting to sit alongside Jesus here in this passage and people-watch with him at the temple.  Imagine the kinds of interesting people that Jesus must have seen - each one approaching the trumpet-shaped offering receptacles with the coins that make their tithe.  Up comes a scribe, who reaches into his pocket, takes a few thick gold coins with Caesar’s head engraved on them, and and tosses them into the offering box.  The coins circle the bell of the receptacle a few times, then land with a heavy clank-clank at the bottom of the box as the scribe walks away into the synagogue, his pockets jangling with the rest of his money, where people part to give him the best seats and gather to hear the prayer which he is about to give with such artistry and presence.

And then here comes another man, his wife and children in tow - the children tug at his sleeve; they want to go over to where the sacrificial animals are being sold so that they can pet the goats and sheep.  Dad’s distracted, harried - he’s a busy man with things to do.  So he reaches into his pocket, pulls out a few denarii from his pocket, does a quick count to make sure he’s giving according to the tithe, then puts one coin back into his pocket before dismissively tossing the coins still in his hand into the treasury receptacle: clank-clank.  Then he takes his family over toward the sacrificial animals, gives the vendor some coin for a dove to sacrifice, and lets his children pet the goats.

There are others, of course - each one coming up to the offering receptacle, each time another “clank clank,” “clank-clank” as they give their tithe.  It’s easy to tell who are the big contributors and who are the ones only giving what they have to - each coin sounds different as it falls into the box.  And each time, the jingle of change as they walk away.  And then, we see her - the widow.  She comes with her offering in hand - two small copper coins.  Jesus nudges the disciples, his attention fixed on this widow, his interest piqued by her approach.  It isn’t the hurried approach of someone with other things to do, the distracted approach of someone with the demands of family, or the stately march of the scribe, making sure that the people see his generosity and piety.  She approaches the offering space humbly, knowing what she is giving, conscious of it.  Perhaps she takes a moment to pray over the offering, asking for God to bless it and do what God will with it.  And then she places the coins into the offering, their soft “plink-plink” nearly inaudible in the bustle of the temple.  There’s no fanfare, no applause, no reaction from the crowd whatsoever as she walks away, no jingle of change remaining in her pockets.   And yet Jesus still notices - he points it out to the disciples, lifting her up as an example.  He tells the disciples that she “has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”  She has given more in the “plink-plink” of two small coins than the multitudes of the rich with the large sums coming out of their own abundance.  The smallest gift of all is the most important one given that day, not because of its worth, but because of its cost.

And no matter how many times I look at this passage, it’s baffling.  What do we do with a text like this?  In a lot of churches today, the pastor will be preaching some kind of stewardship message - devote yourself entirely to God.  Let our Lord be the Lord of your finances and entrust your budget to God - follow the example of the widow and don’t worry about how much you can give - it’s the fact that you’re giving everything you can that’s most important.  A dollar or a cool million - it’s all God’s anyway, right?  So give it all to God and let God sort it out for you - you’ll be amazed at the results and the blessings that come about from your faith and generosity.

But is that truly the message of the gospel here?  We don’t know what happens to the widow after the offering - only the peculiar fact that she gives the totality of her earthly wealth to put at God’s disposal.  There’s no concrete reward for her faith like we hear in Ruth’s story, where God blesses her obedience through giving her Boaz as a husband and making her an ancestor of David.  There’s no promise of further blessing, but there’s also no command to “go and do likewise” that so many of us tend to see.  It’s just people-watching on the part of Jesus, pointing out an extraordinary circumstance and lifting it up as an exemplary display of generosity.

But isn’t that act of generosity important, nonetheless?  Isn’t there a reason why Jesus lifts this one singular woman up above all the rest?  Of course.  This woman stands directly opposite of the example of scribes who put on great performances for personal appearance and “devour” the homes of the poor to make their own lives more wealthy and comfortable which Jesus gives in the first part of the reading.  In recent readings from the lectionary, we’ve heard the disciples asking Jesus what it means to be great - here, Jesus is given the opportunity to show the disciples what true greatness is.  It’s not just a numerical value or a lofty and dramatic presentation of piety; it’s a life lived humbly in wholehearted dedication to God.  We can’t reduce this encounter with the widow to the simple moral that God is the Lord of our finances, because God needs to be Lord over our whole lives - and through that lordship, everything else becomes prioritized by the law of love in which we are commanded to live.

These days, we’re hearing a lot about money nearly everywhere we turn - and we’re nowhere near done hearing about it, either. Political debates, campaign speeches, news analyses, and more focus on the deficit which this country has built, on the taxes which we all have to pay as Americans, and on the way we spend our money as a nation.  We argue about the minimum wage and about inflation.  We worry about depression, recession, unemployment, and interest rates.  Figures and sums get thrown at us left and right - we’re told to be obsessed with our credit score, to work toward mastering our finances.  We’ve got financial planning schools and courses offered by counselors both religious and secular, all aiming to help us gain control over our finances and debt.  And with all these messages about fiscal responsibility and worry, I don’t think even Dave Ramsey would have encouraged that widow to make the offering she did.

But what if the widow’s offering takes a different shape for us today - what if stewardship is about more than filling out a direct-deposit slip and just putting our resources in God’s hands?  What if it takes making decisions about what our efforts, energies, and -yes- funding goes toward in the long run?  The spirit of the widow is at work in this church - can you see it?  When we see a need in our community and open our doors to offer them a place to come, the widow shines through us.  When we take time as a church to celebrate, to mourn, to walk alongside people in their lives and offer ourselves as support, the widow moves through us.  When we come together around members of our community, letting coins clatter in the noisy can to help with a medical bill or wearing a common color and buying a hot-dog from a stand in solidarity, the widow shines out in our midst.  These things and more are faithful demonstrations of our stewardship in this community because we give out of whatever we have, and so often, we find ourselves reaching deeper and finding one more place where we can give just a little bit more.  That is what we’re meant to be about.  That is what Christ points out in the widow, and what we should find encouragement toward, ourselves. And in so doing, may we always bring greater glory to God in the name of Jesus Christ.  Amen.