Proper 27.B.24
Mark 12:38-44; Hebrews 9:24-28
The Rev. Melanie McCarley
Our Gospel story for today is frequently referred to as “The Widow’s Mite”. For many of us, we hear how the widow puts in all that she has, “her last penny”, and we assume this is a simple story about generosity—even going beyond generosity—of giving more than you think you can. Fair enough. At first glance, that is precisely how it seems. But there’s something askew about this story. Oftentimes, when we hear about a person who does something admirable, our first thought is “I want to be like them.” But really—who wants to be the widow? I suspect there’s not a person here, including myself, who would willingly choose to be in her shoes. Not only would we not choose to be her —I daresay, we don’t even want to imagine such a scenario. And I believe Jesus knew this. Which makes her all the more interesting for us to contemplate, and consider taking a closer look at someone whom it was very easy to overlook.
For most people that widow would have been beyond notice—or seen as an object of pity. However, that is not who she is—at least not in this story as Jesus tells it. Think of her, if you will, as a person unwilling to concede to circumstance.
To do this, we need to know something of the tradition into which this woman finds herself. To begin, the location is important. Jesus has taken his followers to the Treasury, a place in the temple housing large, brass, trumpet-like urns into which the faithful would place their coins as they went to worship. These coins would rattle and roll into their respective containers making a good amount of sound as they made their way to their resting place. Large, numerous coins made a decidedly different sound than small, piddly coins such as the widow’s mite. Think of it, there would be no hiding who put in more money and who put in less. A simple cock of the ear would tell you if your neighbor was being stingy or generous. It was customary for wealthy Scribes and Pharisees to place large amounts of coins into the receptacles—some doing so out of generosity—and perhaps others, so that people would see that they were wealthy.
Who were these Scribes to which Jesus refers in such derisive terms?
Among other responsibilities the scribes were no less than the stewards, the caretakers of the wealth of widows, without family, who, by and large, were forbidden to hold property.
By definition, a widow’s life in the time of Jesus was precarious. Any inheritance would typically go to the widow’s sons or other male relatives, leaving them dependent on their family for support. When no family was present, the Scribes would hold their money in trust, and doling it out as they saw fit. Widows existed, largely in poverty, their security poised on a daily precipice, entirely dependent on the whim of the Scribes.
This is the tradition and the situation in which this woman lives. And here, in this story, she puts into the treasury her last coin. She didn’t have to—her money, mind you, was held in trust by the Scribes. She could have entered the temple without giving a cent. So her act of giving is her own decision—she is exercising her right to do what she will. I like to think that her act is filled, not only with deep devotion and love for the Lord, but also with a will to live her life on her own terms, rather than those dictated by the society in which we lived.
Which brings us to today, as we begin a new week bringing what has been a most divisive electoral process to a close. There are some who are rejoicing and others who are mourning the results of last week’s election. In the coming four years we can expect a number of changes in policy and governance. But here is what does not change. Your moral agency. And by this, I mean your independent ability to make ethical decisions based on a sense of right and wrong. In a letter to the Diocese this past Thursday, Bishop Julia writes: “At its essence, our work is unchanged, even as its context may intensify. In our baptisms we have promised to proclaim the Gospel of Love in word and action, to seek and serve Christ in all people, and to promote the dignity of every human being. We as a church, and as a diocese, will continue to stand with those who are most vulnerable in our midst—especially immigrants, asylum seekers, and refugees, LGBTQ+ people, and women. We will continue our work to dismantle racism, in ourselves and the systems all around us. We will double down on our prayers that ours might be a country guided by compassion and justice, and we will work as advocates and instruments of those values when, as they often do, our leaders fall short.”
Prior to the election, I was deeply struck by Bishop Julia’s letter to our diocese that we are called to vote our values. This makes sense to me. Jesus tells us that we are to be a people of reconciliation, generosity, faith, hope and love. That’s who we are. Political leaders can make many changes—but they have no sway over our moral agency. They can change many things—but not the values by which we choose to live.
When Jesus told the story of the Widows mite, I don’t believe that he was employing this woman simply as an example of generosity of money—but instead, as someone who had all the cards stacked against her, yet chose to act as a free moral agent, rather than simply give into the expectations and the oppression of the society in which she lived. She was “all in” when it came to her sense of self and what was most important to her and her faith. The pittance she put in the Treasury most likely didn’t make any difference at all to the running of the Temple, but it mattered to her, and her relationship to God. What’s more, God saw this, and was pleased.
In today’s Old Testament lesson we meet another remarkable widow. This woman was a realist, who, looking death in the eye, shared the very last of what she had in an act of hospitality. She was “all in” when it came to doing what she believed was right.
Finally, there is our Lord himself, whom the author of the Letter to the Hebrews says “And just as it is appointed for mortals to die once, and after that the judgment, so Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, will appear a second time, not to deal with sin, but to save those who are eagerly waiting for him.
Each of the lessons appointed for today encourage us to think of what it means to be “all in” with what we believe—and to live our lives, not based upon what the prevailing culture prescribes, but upon what we know to be true, right and just. Perhaps we can challenge ourselves in the coming week to take a closer look at the people that it is easy to overlook—the poor and needy, the oppressed and those who have lost hope, and to see in them, and ourselves, the possibility for more—for a life less dictated by circumstance that it is filled with purpose; so that we can all work for the Kingdom of God, a place where the least shall be heard and considered side by side with the greatest. In Jesus’ name. Amen.