Mark 12:38-44
I
wouldn’t normally consider myself to be into politics. But I admit, this
election season, I’ve been pretty into it. I listened to the radio all through
the primaries. I watched all of the debates and read reviews about them
afterward. And along with so many this week, I went to the polls and cast my
vote, and waited until the wee hours of the morning to find out who the winners
would be.
There
were a lot of exciting things this election season, as well as a lot of dirty
or frustrating things. One thing that discouraged me was actually something not talked about. In four debates, countless political
rallies, and several months leading up to the election, there was hardly any
conversation about the poor in this country or abroad. One candidate used the
“p-word,” poverty, but didn’t actually talk about ways to address it, and the
other talked about policies that would address it without actually using the
word, instead using code like, “those striving to get into the middle class.”
Both talked a whole lot about the economy, which is related, but still misses
the head of the nail. No one talked directly about how we as a country can help
care for the poorest and most vulnerable in our communities.
Why
is that? There was a time, and you in “the greatest generation” will remember,
when there was a certain honor to being poor. People worked hard, they gave up
what they didn’t need, they stretched what little they had and didn’t take
things for granted. But that honor doesn’t exist today. Today, being poor is
taboo, something we don’t talk about. When we talk about the poor, it makes most people think about people who don’t work,
and bad personal choices, and irresponsibility. This stereotype is so ingrained
in us, that even data to the contrary is not convincing.
The
fact is, poverty is a very real thing, often no fault of the people living in
it, and not easy to rise above. And we can ignore it or use code words to talk
about it all we want, but it doesn’t change the fact that 1 in 4 children in
the U.S. don’t have enough food to eat, that 1 in 8 U.S. citizens live below
the poverty line, or that half of Americans (half!) will experience living in
poverty by the time they are 65. Recently a film came out entitled The Line, about several different households who suddenly
found themselves living at or below the poverty line. One was a former banker
making six figures, a single dad of three teenagers, but when his bank was
bought out, he lost his job and despite going back to school, he couldn’t land
another. Another story was a woman born in one of the worst neighborhoods in
Chicago. She managed to pull herself out of the poverty she grew up in and get
a good job, but one day tripped on her way to the bus, and after suffering
severe injuries, had to go on disability and couldn’t work. One man they
profiled was a fisherman in Louisiana. After the oil spill and Hurricane
Katrina, what used to be a bountiful business now hardly delivered anything.
Poverty takes all forms and is caused by all kinds of things. And the truth is,
any one of us could be one accident, one illness, one job loss away from
finding ourselves in poverty. We can ignore it all we want, but it is still
there.
Poverty,
of course, has always been there, and our Gospel lesson today shows us that.
The story of the widow’s mite is a well-known and well-loved one, often used
during stewardship season to highlight the widow’s extravagant generosity. She
gave all she had! No 10% tithe for her, she gave 100%! But viewed in its full
context, this story becomes less about a generous woman, and more about the
unjust system she is trapped in.
We
normally think of the Temple as a religious place, and to some extent, it was.
But it was also the economic center of
Jerusalem. It’s where all economic exchanges took place, where taxes were paid,
currency exchanged, everything. And what ended up happening was that the few
very rich people in the first century – the teachers of the law, the scribes –
benefited from the money given to the Temple, but this benefit was on the backs
of the poor. Furthermore, they saw themselves as assets to society, where they saw people like
widows, who relied on the kindness of others, to be a burden to society. And
so, as Jesus points out, the rich “walk around in long robes,”
and like “to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have the best
seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets!” All this they do,
even though there are widows among them with no livelihood, orphans who cannot
fend for themselves, strangers and travelers who have nothing to eat. It is a
corrupt system, and our dear, generous widow is a victim of it. Here she comes
to give her very last penny, so that the scribes can wear their long robes and
go to parties. The scribes do indeed “devour widow’s houses,” as Jesus says.
Well,
they can ignore the poverty among them all they want. So can we. But not with
Jesus around. In the first place, the biblical witness is replete with the
command to care for the poor, the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the alien.
Old and New Testament alike, this is a clear mandate of the life of faith. But
in this story about the self-sacrificing widow, the need to notice the poverty
among us is brought even more to the forefront. It’s no accident that this
beloved story appears directly following Jesus’ condemnation of the corruption
of the Temple. First he points out how flauntingly the rich behave. Then he
sits back, and he watches. He simply takes in the scene, watching some put in
large sums, watching the long robes of the scribes. And then he sees the widow.
Probably no one else noticed her – widows were not really the type to be
noticed. After all, it was believed she had nothing to offer society, certainly
nothing like the scribes had. But Jesus notices her. He watches her offer her
two coins. And he points her out to the disciples. Notice he doesn’t commend
her for her generosity. He doesn’t go up, shake her hand, and congratulate her
for being a model of faith. That’s something we have added to the text after
years of interpretation. No, all he does is point her out and say, “Do you see
her? Do you see how she already has so little, and this corrupt system is
taking even that? Do you see the poor and vulnerable right here in your midst?
Did you even notice?”
You
know, the Gospel is so often a comfort to the afflicted. But sometimes, and
today is one of those times, it also serves to afflict the comfortable. And we
are comfortable. Some of us more comfortable than others. But especially as
many of my friends in NY and NJ have been without power or water this week, I
have been grateful for how comfortable I am. When I get a call for help from a young
man who, through no fault of his own, cannot work and has to take care of a
baby by himself, and is two months behind on his rent, I realize how
comfortable I am. In the midst of such realization, texts like this do hold a
mirror and show me that there is more to the Christian life than achieving and
recognizing my comfort.
Jesus points us beyond that. But he doesn’t point us
toward the poor and vulnerable to accuse us. He does it because he loves us,
loves us enough to not want us to keep our blinders on, and instead to point us
toward change. He doesn’t want us to continue participating in a system that
does not care for the proverbial widow and other vulnerable members of society.
We have many means by which to change such a system.
One of them many of us exercised this past week, and that is to vote people
into office who will care for the well-being even of the poor, who will see
each and every person, regardless of socioeconomic status, race, gender… not as
a burden, but as someone who has something to offer this world. Now that the
election is over, another way we can prevent corruption is to talk to those
people we elected, tell them that poor people matter to us. Another way to
avoid participation in a system like the one described in our Gospel today is
to build relationships. Before making an assumption about a person, or applying
a stereotype to them, have a conversation with them. Hear their story. Learn
about their gifts and dreams. All of us are beloved children of God.
There’s no part of the gospel that says, “Earn your
keep, then sit back and enjoy.” And so Jesus won’t let us stay there,
comfortable as it may be. Immediately following this encounter with the poor
widow, Jesus also gives all he has, his whole life, for the sake of the corrupt
world. He goes to the cross so that we might have life. And now the question
becomes, how do we use that life? In gratitude for what Christ has done for us,
how can we use this life to care for those around us, both friends and
strangers alike? How will we be good stewards of the comfort God has graced us
with?
Let us pray. God of the weak and vulnerable, you
have provided us with many comforts, but you also point us toward the poorest
among us. Help us to see those around us who are in need. Help us to see them
as unique and wonderful gifts, and as your children, that together we might
grow closer to you. In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy
Spirit. Amen.
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