Mark 12.38-44

In a classic case of compare and contrast, today’s gospel gives us two scenes. They could hardly be more different.

The first shows the scribes, distinguished scholars of biblical law. They put on airs, make an impression with the best seats in the house, and are greeted in a way that honors their status and station. But they are mostly interested in lining their pockets and doing it at the expense of widows.

This sort of pomp and pretense isn’t limited to them, of course. Or to the pages of the Bible. Politicians and leaders in the civic world, again and again are seen putting on a show in order gain favor among friends but at the expense of the vulnerable and poor. And the worst of these use religion both as a means and justification for their harm. The prophets have things to say about this. Isaiah, for example, cries out against “those who enact unjust laws…depriving the poor of justice, robbing the weakest of their rights, and plundering widows and orphans.” Jesus himself has words of judgment about such people. “They devour widows houses…They will receive the great condemnation.” The first scene.

The second scene is centered in the Temple. Various people are making offerings. One group includes people with the sort of bank balance that allows them the financial freedom to make offerings without ever noticing their money is gone; people for whom generosity doesn’t cut into the substance of their lives; people who can afford to give. Yet also in this second scene, we see a widow make an offering. She can hardly afford to give. This widow’s offering is so small that the two coins she drops in the offering plate are the smallest in circulation, only add up to a penny. Now most of us easily walk past a penny lying in the street without bothering to pick it up. How easy would it be for the crowds in the Temple to overlook this widow as she puts two little coins in the offering. Yet Jesus sees. And he points us to her.

What is it about this woman that catches our Lord’s attention? Why is she the one to watch? Why not the wealthy with offerings that could have real impact, the sort of people you read about on websites like, ‘Major Gifts: A Guide to Securing Large Donations’?

From time to time, this gospel reading shows up in resources sent to churches for stewardship season. You can probably guess the approach. If this widow can do so much with so little, what might be expected of us? That’s a fair question and one that can’t be avoided in applying this text to our lives. “For they all gave out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty put in everything, all she had to live on,” the substance of her life. How we give of our money, time, or talent in response to God’s grace, love, and gifts in our lives is an important question in the lead-up to Consecration Sunday next week. But I once saw stewardship materials that used today’s gospel text and said something like this: ‘If the widow gave her last two coins to the Temple, you should be able to offer at least ten percent for the Church. Giving through guilting! Except the New Testament never says, ‘God loves a guilt-ridden giver.’ And our theme these weeks has been, “Walk in Love as Christ loved us.”

I’m grateful for the reflections on generosity we’ve heard from two of our members during the last two weeks in worship, people we know who have described their own walk in love. Scott Buretta gave a personal testimony about his gratitude to God for opening his eyes in an unexpected way. Scott prayed for an expanded vision of beauty in the world; God answered by giving him an expanded vision of need in our community and the opportunity to do beautiful acts of love. Scott reminded us “that each of us has the ability to do something in large and small ways alike,” and said, “it’s not just the act of giving, it’s the art of generosity.” Joelle Shewey described the beginnings of the Gethsemane Youth Service Club, and talked about how our youth walk in love through their support of one another and by their care for people in the world around them. She expressed her gratitude to God for this place and our life together; for the privilege she feels to be able to give of her time, talent, and treasure; and she invited each of us to give of ourselves, to expand our generosity and ‘climb in love.’ The giving of our lives is a spiritual practice, a joyful response of living in a way that embodies Jesus’ own life, all the ways he gave himself—our echoing response to his generous grace, life, and love.

And that is why the widow with her offering of two small coins catches Jesus’ attention. That is why she is the one to watch. She walks in love as Christ loves us.

In the broader gospel story, today’s reading takes place during Holy Week. It is two days before Good Friday. When Jesus sees the widow putting in “everything, all that she had,” I can’t help but wonder if he sees in her the truth of his life. Elsewhere in the New Testament, St Paul considers the self-giving love of Jesus and says, “You know the generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor.” Jesus must see in this widow something of himself. Others gave what they could spare; this widow spared nothing. Some translations put it clearly: “She has given her whole life.” Jesus, too. Her gift, though small, was total—a sacrifice, the very thing Jesus did in giving his life. Like Scott Buretta’s ministry to people in need, like Joelle Shewey seeing opportunity to serve others with the love of God, the widow in her offering is an icon and window to walk in love as Christ loves us. No guilt, only gratitude and generosity. Through her we see the generous self-giving love of Jesus on the cross. She withheld nothing from God; Jesus withholds nothing in giving love to us. “The Son of God loved me and gave himself for me.”

The self-giving love of Jesus and the offering of his life has moved many people, softened their hearts, opened their spirits, changed their lives. Nicholas von Zinzendorf is an example. He was a religious and social reformer in the mid-1700s. He was born into a noble, aristocratic family with an imperial heritage that stretched back for generations. His was the sort of family that belonged among the people in the first scene of today’s gospel. Over the course of his life, however, Zinzendorf came to look more like the widow in the second scene. When he was nineteen, he visited the major cities of Europe to complete his education, an 18th century version of a semester abroad.

One day he was in an art gallery in Düsseldorf looking at a painting of Jesus by the artist Domenico Feti titled, “Behold the Man.” It’s a portrait of Jesus wearing a crown of thorns, hands crossed, head slumped to the side. The title of the painting comes from the Gospel of John when Pontius Pilate points to Jesus, scourged before the crucifixion, and says, “Behold, the man.” At the bottom of the painting, the artist added words that could have come from Jesus himself: “This I have done for you. What will you do for me?” That question haunted Zinzendorf. He was astonished because he sensed Christ speaking directly to his heart. He so deeply moved that he used his wealth, power, and privilege in good works until, like the widow, he had given away all that he had to live on. Our life as an offering—our own self-giving as we walk in love—is a response to Christ who first loved us.

Jesus draws our attention to the widow in the gospel and points us—the rich and the less so—to a life of faith, trust, and the beauty of life as an offering. In purely financial terms, the value of the widow’s gift is negligible. But in the divine economy things look different. Everything about this woman is described in terms of less. Yet Jesus says she has given more than the others. Our Lord praises the widow because she gave not from her surplus but from the substance of her life. “Out of her poverty put in everything, all she had to live on,” her whole life. In her, we see what our own giving and self-giving are meant to be: a spiritual practice and act of worship in response to God’s grace from the substance of our lives.

Hold the widow of today’s gospel in your heart and Spirit-guided imagination as you pray about generosity in your life and in the days leading up to Consecration Sunday, as you prepare to make you own giving commitment as an act of worship and devotion. No gift—whether of money, time, or talent—is too insignificant to give when it is given to God. In and through the widow, we see what it means to hold nothing held back because that is how Jesus gives himself to you generously and ungrudgingly, holding nothing back from his love, grace, and mercy for you to make your life an offering to God, as together we walk in love.

Write a comment:

*

Your email address will not be published.

Top
Follow us: