Sermon for the Twentieth-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost, November 10, 2024

Ruth 3:1-5, 4:13-17+Psalm 127+Hebrews 9:24-28+Mark 12:38-44

Let's take a moment to set the scene:

Two weeks ago, we had Jesus and his companions leaving Jericho on their way to Jerusalem. Jesus restores the sight of Bartimaeus, the beggar who had been born blind. Our lectionary readings skip over the next part which rightly belong in Holy Week, the entry into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey, the cleansing of the temple the next day, and a day later we have the verbal sparring with the religious leaders. It is on this day from which comes the story of what has come down to us as the widow's mite.

Before we get to that, however, I want to remind you that last week when we observed All Saints' Day we jumped over to John's gospel for the raising of Lazarus, and so we missed the next in the selected readings from Mark. It was this:

One of the scribes came near and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that he answered them well he asked him, “Which commandment is the first of all?”  Jesus answered, “The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” Then the scribe said to him, “You are right, Teacher; you have truly said that ‘he is one, and besides him there is no other’; and ‘to love him with all the heart and with all the understanding and with all the strength’ and ‘to love one’s neighbor as oneself’—this is much more important than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices.” When Jesus saw that he answered wisely, he said to him, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” After that no one dared to ask him any question. (Mark 12:28-34)

Jesus has affirmed this scribe for his understanding just before criticizing scribes in general for walking around with their heads held high, "devouring widow's houses" and seeking honor for themselves. I think it is fair to assume that the scribe who is not far from the kingdom and other scribes and pharisees like him might be protesting, "Not all of us are like that."

To imagine that Jesus is condemning whole categories of people is to misunderstand his message. Through the ages, his disputes with the scribes and Pharisees have been taken as condemnations of Jewish people as a whole. I think Jesus would be horrified by that.

He isn't condemning scribes and pharisees and followers of the law. He is condemning those who are so self-righteous that they forget the purpose of the law and of their role in interpreting and upholding it. He condemns temple authorities who place greater burdens on the ones who can least withstand it. If the temple could survive while tending to the poor like this widow in today's reading, then the temple should survive. But if it is being propped up by religious leaders who are looking out for themselves, then maybe that temple needs to be dismantled stone upon stone. There is nothing wrong with the temple itself, only the system that has corrupted its purpose - right worship of Adonai - and those who have been complicit in that corruption.

The story of this widow, coming as it does during a time when many congregations are in the process of an annual giving campaign, is often used to prop up a theme of sacrificial giving. But, I think that misses the message. She is not giving sacrificially. She is giving everything, just as Bartimaeus dropped his cloak, the only possession he had to his name. They both did what the rich man could not do. He could not imagine that anything might be more valuable than his wealth, and so he walked away from Jesus's invitation.

It is fair to ask why this widow is so poor when the religious leaders around her are so well off. It is also fair to wonder if, in enforcing the rules about the temple offering or the temple tax, they are not exploiting her. And I think they might be, but there could be something deeper happening here.

Maybe this woman is demonstrating to them that they cannot look down on her in her poverty, that she is defiant in the face of their oppression of her and those like her, and she will be faithful in doing what the law requires of her, not just for show but because without God she has nothing. She is in line with the hemorrhaging woman in Mark 5 who refused to be kept away and snuck through the crowds to touch the hem of Jesus's cloak. And the Syrophoenician woman in Mark 7 who persisted in challenging Jesus to heal her sick daughter. And the woman we encounter in Mark 14 who anoints Jesus with oil and washes his feet with her hair. These unnamed women transgress boundaries, risking what they have to receive what Jesus offers. The disciples don't get this. The religious leaders don’t get this. The rich man did not get this. But Jesus does. Jesus sees them and acknowledges their faith.[1]

Last month, Peruvian scholar, priest, and theologian Gustavo Gutiérrez died at the age of 96. He is best known as the father of liberation theology and the idea that God has a preferential option for the poor. This was not an idealization of poverty but a call to the rest of the world to eradicate it, to truly love our neighbors as ourselves. "When Jesus said "Blessed are the poor," Gutierrez points out, he does not say, "Blessed is poverty." For Gutierrez, "Standing in solidarity with the poor began to mean taking a stand against inhumane poverty." [2] Like Jesus commending these poor women who have no safety net, who took great risks to find healing or to show gratitude, Gutierrez gave voice to the understanding that the poor have nothing to lose and everything to gain by trusting in God's love for them. Most of us are far too comfortable in our own power and ability to take care of ourselves to take such a risk. No wonder God's love for the poor is woven throughout scripture. Someone has to be looking out for them.

And that someone is us. The greatest commandment is to love God and love our neighbor. We love God by loving our neighbor. Maybe we risk our financial security or our friendships or our comfort by pleading the case of the poor in the halls of power, to have a conversion of the heart that seeks liberation for all God's people. Or in the words of Gustavo Gutiérrez

Christians have not done enough in this area of conversion to the neighbor, to social justice, to history. They have not perceived clearly enough yet that to know God is to do justice. They have yet to tread the path that will lead them to seek effectively the peace of the Lord in the heart of social struggle.

Now that the election is behind us (even as the fallout continues), it seems a good time to be reminded of the work that lies ahead of us. Wherever our neighbors are suffering, that is where God is calling us.

[1] I am grateful to Andrew McGowan, Dean of Berkeley Divinity School, for this perspective.

[2] https://www.ncronline.org/blogs/road-peace/gustavo-gutierrez-and-preferential-option-poor