24th Sunday after Pentecost, 11/11/2012

Sermon on Mark 12:38-44, by John E. Priest

And in his teaching he said, "Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes and like greetings in the marketplaces 39 and have the best seats in the synagogues and the places of honor at feasts, 40 who devour widows' houses and for a pretense make long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation."

41 And he sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the offering box. Many rich people put in large sums. 42 And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which make a penny. 43 And he called his disciples to him and said to them, "Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. 44 For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on." [ESV]

The Church Bureaucrat and the Widow

The man - he was a church bureaucrat - was swinging the widow like a club. He had her by the ankles. Not literally of course. But this is how I pictured it. He had her by the ankles. She was stiff as a board. And he was swinging her around like a bat, mowing people down left and right. She had become his weapon to bully people into giving more money to the church.

The widow he was using this way - or rather, I'd say, abusing - was the poor woman in today's Gospel lesson, who put all the money she had into the temple collection box.

The church bureaucrat - (not one from around here, mind you; none of you know and probably never will know who I'm talking about) - he was speaking to a gathering of pastors and explaining what he wanted our congregations to do as far as giving to the regional and national church offices was concerned. He told us we were supposed to increase our giving every year by one percent of our total budget - year after year - until we reached twenty-five per cent. Twenty-give per cent!

Well - I'd never before heard anybody suggest such an extravagant figure. And I said so. Politely. Even meekly. I said I thought local congregations and their ministries were the heart of the church. And many of them - perhaps most - would be severely crippled if they were expected to give that much away. That's what I said. Silly me. Because that's when the church bureaucrat picked up the widow and starting swinging her like a club. "It seems," he said, "you haven't learned the lesson of the widow, who gave everything she had. You've never given enough," he said, "until you've given one hundred per cent. One hundred per cent!"

Wow - and I thought twenty-five was steep.

The Smell of Corruption

Okay - so let's get something straight here. The church bureaucrat was right in one respect. We've never given enough until we've given our all. That's why Jesus praised the widow, whom, he said, gave more than anybody else, even though what she gave was but a couple copper coins, because she gave out of her poverty, whereas everybody else gave only out of their abundance. But - and this is what we have to get straight here - giving our all to God is not the same thing as giving our all to the church bureaucracy - or even to the local congregation. And if the church demands or even just expects you to empty out your wallets, your bank accounts, your IRAs, and so forth, and put all of it - every last red cent - into the offering plate, there's something wrong, something rotten going on.

You see, not too far underneath the surface of this Gospel story about the widow, there's the smell of corruption. Jesus obviously had it in mind, because just before he made his remarks about the widow, he complained about religious leaders, "who devour widows' houses." And the collection box the widow put her money into had a shady history all its own.

It went back to the time centuries before when a man named Jehoash was king in Judah. Jehoash told the temple priests to repair the house of the Lord, which really needed it. And the money for the repair work should come out of the regular income that came into the temple through the people's gifts and sacrifices, which was considerable. But, you see, if the money came out of the regular temple income, then there'd be less money left for the priests themselves. So they balked. Nothing happened for years.

So finally the king said, "Enough already. Get the work done, or I'll cut off your income entirely!" Which prompted a resourceful response from the high priest. He took a chest, bored a hole in the lid of it, and put it out by the gate into the temple precincts for people to drop their money into for the temple repairs. And so the repairs eventually got done - not at the expense of the priests though, but at everybody else's expense - including no doubt poor widows. And guess what: the chest eventually became institutionalized, so to speak. It remained there even after the repairs were done - an extra source of income for the priests, which God never commanded nor asked for.

So the chest was still there in the temple centuries later when the poor widow in our Gospel story dropped her pennies into it. And blessed be she who gave her all. But a curse on them who took advantage of her.

So this is what we have to get straight: if the church demands or even just expects you to empty out your wallets, your bank accounts, your everything, and put it all into the offering plate, there's something rotten going on. Giving your all to God (which you should do) is not the same as giving your all to the church bureaucracy or even to the local congregation. The church is not here to devour your house, as Jesus said. God wants you to do other things with your money as well - things like feeding, clothing, and housing yourselves and your families, just for starters. Using the money you have to do those things responsibly is another way of giving your money to God.

Something Unique

In this regard, there's something quite unique about our congregation here. It has to do with something we don't do that just about every other congregation does - be they Lutheran or otherwise. Those of you who've grown up in this congregation don't know what you're missing. Your ignorance is bliss. I speak of the annual stewardship campaign. The dreaded pledge drive, which basically consists of letters to members, visits to their homes, and pep talks before, after, and even during worship, much of it bordering on nagging, all with a view to getting people to fill out little cards promising to give so many dollars per week to church. Since this is the time of year most congregations do this sort of thing, they're in the thick of it right now. And here at Immanuel we sit idle - at least in this regard. Here at Immanuel there is no dreaded pledge campaign.

Most pastoral colleagues of mine think we're nuts, we've lost our minds. I say it's because this congregation a long time ago made a conscious decision to trust that the Lord will supply. And of course we know full well that the Lord is going to supply mainly through the members of our congregation, because we really have no other source of income. So we're going to count on you to supply - but with a minimum amount of nagging.

Are there risks to this? Of course. But then again faith can be risky. Not that it's ever risky to rely on the Lord, but that, when we do rely on the Lord, we find ourselves sometimes doing risky things.

It's like what happened in today's first lesson. In this story, another poor widow figures in. The Lord sent Elijah the prophet to her and commanded her to feed him. But there was a famine going on. The widow and her son were getting ready to eat their last meal and then die. But Elijah promised: the Lord will supply. "The jar of flour shall not be spent, and the jug of oil shall not be empty." For the sake of that promise, this poor widow took the risk and fed the prophet out of her meager supply. And indeed it was so as the prophet said. The Lord did supply. They had food enough for the duration of the famine.

It was the Lord who did it, the same Lord who tells us not to worry about what we're going to eat or drink or whether or not we're going to have clothes to wear, since he already knows what we need.

So the Lord knows you. Do you know the Lord?

He's the one, as it says in the psalm, who "made the heaven and earth, the seas, and all that is in them ... who gives justice to the oppressed and food to those who hunger ...."

Do you know the Lord? He's the one who in Jesus Christ has "appeared ... to put away sin." Not just, mind you, to spare us the penalty for sin, but to actually put it away, remove it - including the sin of not trusting the Lord to supply. And how does he do this removing? "By the sacrifice of himself." As the one who died on the cross and yet now lives.

This is the Lord we know. His Spirit is among us. Which is why there will be no stewardship drive here, no dreaded pledge campaign, and no swinging widows around like clubs.

Instead let there be only the grateful receiving and giving of gifts - the Lord's gifts and ours.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Rev. John E. Priest
Delhi, New York
E-Mail: jpriest2@stny.rr.com

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