I Done Told You 11-7-21

I Done Told You

1 Kings 17:8-16;Mark 12:38-44

1 Kings 17:8-16

Then the word of the Lord came to him, saying, “Go now to Zarephath, which belongs to Sidon, and live there; for I have commanded a widow there to feed you.” So he set out and went to Zarephath. When he came to the gate of the town, a widow was there gathering sticks; he called to her and said, “Bring me a little water in a vessel, so that I may drink.” As she was going to bring it, he called to her and said, “Bring me a morsel of bread in your hand.” But she said, “As the Lord your God lives, I have nothing baked, only a handful of meal in a jar, and a little oil in a jug; I am now gathering a couple of sticks, so that I may go home and prepare it for myself and my son, that we may eat it, and die.” Elijah said to her, “Do not be afraid; go and do as you have said; but first make me a little cake of it and bring it to me, and afterwards make something for yourself and your son. For thus says the Lord the God of Israel: The jar of meal will not be emptied and the jug of oil will not fail until the day that the Lord sends rain on the earth.” She went and did as Elijah said, so that she as well as he and her household ate for many days. The jar of meal was not emptied, neither did the jug of oil fail, according to the word of the Lord that he spoke by Elijah.

Mark 12:38-44 (The Message)

He continued teaching. “Watch out for the religion scholars. They love to walk around in academic gowns, preening in the radiance of public flattery, basking in prominent positions, sitting at the head table at every church function. And all the time they are exploiting the weak and helpless. The longer their prayers, the worse they get. But they’ll pay for it in the end.” Sitting across from the offering box, he was observing how the crowd tossed money in for the collection. Many of the rich were making large contributions. One poor widow came up and put in two small coins—a measly two cents. Jesus called his disciples over and said, “The truth is that this poor widow gave more to the collection than all the others put together. All the others gave what they’ll never miss; she gave extravagantly what she couldn’t afford—she gave her all.”

Prayer – Gracious God, help us to see what great responsibility has been laid upon us as we represent you and your good news to the world. Guard us from misrepresenting your love by our misguided reactions. Help us to live up to your standards of care and compassion with all of creation. Give us the courage to be like the widow and give our all – amen.

          Historically this passage is preached during the season of stewardship to encourage, guilt, manipulate folks into giving from deep in their pockets, to share the depth and breadth of their wealth.  Sometimes our interpretation of a biblical passage turns on the question we ask of it.  I want to begin our time of reflection this morning with one central question – not simply for our text, but also for each of us – “How do we hear Jesus’ description of the poor widow’s offering – as praise or lament?”  To put it another way, is Jesus holding up the widow and her offering as an example of great faith and profound stewardship, or is he expressing his remorse that she has given – perhaps feels compelled – to give away the little she has left?

          I’ll be honest with you, for much of my life I’ve assumed it was the first.  But for some reason, this time, I’m wondering if perhaps it isn’t the second.  Here’s why – this passage is part of a larger set of passages that focus on Jesus’ confrontation with the scribes and Pharisees and center on his critique of the Temple and religious leaders.  He starts off the passage by condemning the religious leaders for exploiting the weak and helpless.  And notably, there is actually no word of praise in Jesus’ statement about the widow or any indication that Jesus is lifting her up as an example.  All he does is describe what she is doing – which makes me wonder about his tone of voice – praise or lament.

          All of this leads me to conclude that Jesus isn’t actually lifting her up as an example but rather decrying the systemic and religious circumstances that demand her to make such an offering, a sacrifice that will likely lead to her destitution if not death.  Jesus is, in short, leveling a devastating critique against the rich and powerful, the 1%, who allows this woman to give her all.  Jesus is essentially saying to the elite and wealthy, I done told you – and you still aren’t listening.

          All of this leads me to a second question – how do I preach this different notion?  That is, assuming that Jesus’ words are words of lament, what does that say to us today?  That we should stand up for those who are most vulnerable?  Yes.  That we should stand against laws and customs that exploit the poor and most vulnerable?  Absolutely.  That we should hold our legislators accountable and vote for politicians that advance policies that mirror God’s intention to care always and all-ways for the least of these?  No question. 

          Could it be that Jesus points out this particular widow now as a living illustration of what he was referring to as exploitation of the weak and helpless?  Could it be that he is pushing his disciples then and now to simply note of the one who is normally invisible?  Could it be that as our attention is drawn to her, we are also made more deeply aware of how the needs of so many like her are too often ignored . . . or that, just as was apparently the case so long ago, their need is exploited in such a way that those with more just get more?  Is Jesus saying to them and perhaps to us today, I done told you?

          Too much of the time like the disciples long ago, unless it’s pointed out to me, I also simply don’t always see it . . . or at least it is so that I don’t always fully comprehend this contrast and its often accompanying injustice which Jesus speaks of now.  Only lately I’ve come to see it more clearly which is embarrassing.  And it is so that I am not at all proud of the fact that other, certainly no more important things, cloud my vision toooo much of the time.

          The last couple of years have raised my awareness.  The rich and elite, the powerful and the 1% have simply gotten more and more.  The disparities between the haves and the have-nots have increased exponentially.  The people that the Gospel instructs us to call neighbor have been vilified, have been ostracized, have been outcast – and we continue to simply say, wish it weren’t so, or that is too bad. People who are of color, who aren’t evangelical Christian, who have a different ethnic background, a different sexual orientation or identity have been identified as the problem by those who think that they either have power or should have power.  And I wonder, is Jesus saying to us who remain relatively quiet, to us who haven’t taken a vocal stand, to us who long for the old days when we were perhaps a little less aware, I done told you?

          I am struck how far too many people have been invisible to me.  Honestly, and I am ashamed to say, I have no idea how many people in our church, in our community, in our country, in our world are utterly alone.  I have no idea how many people are falling through the gaps as a result of this political and religious agenda to focus only on me and what I want.

          And here is the painful truth.  Stepping in to help a few here and there is nice but does nothing to change things when it comes to the big picture.  I am not sure that this brings the invisible into much clearer focus for me and for countless others like me who have little need or call to interact regularly with people whose economic circumstances are so very different than my own.  More than that, it doesn’t change a political and economic system which has somehow made far too many people with their very basic needs expendable.

          Unfortunately, I doubt anyone else, including the religious elite parading around the Temple that day and dropping their token offerings, noticed this invisible woman.  And I doubt the disciples following Jesus that day would have noticed her either, had not Jesus lifted her up for their attention and empathy.  Which reminds me that God also sees our struggles, recognizes our challenges, cares about where we, and all of God’s beloved, are hard pressed to make ends meet.

          Even more, I think God is inviting us to look around and see each other, those in our community we know as well as those we don’t.  And I mean really see each other – the pain of those who are discriminated against because of their ethnicity, the desolation of those who can’t find work and have been abandoned to fend for themselves, the despair of those who have given up on finding work, connection, relationship and have now lost hope, the anguish of those who have been exploited by sex traffickers or abusers.  Jesus is calling us out this morning to see them, to care for them, and to advocate for a system that does not leave anyone behind.

          So here is where I am landing with the image of the widow dropping her last two coins into the temple treasury this week.  I still think of this as a stewardship story.  Only it is pointing us to something much larger than how much I will put in the offering envelope this Sunday or any Sunday to come.  Rather, our passage this morning raises questions about how I, how we, steward our whole lives as well as the lives of those around us – near and far.  Most especially those I haven’t noticed.  Indeed it seems to me that my, that our financial stewardship is meant to be just the start of changing us so that in the name of Jesus we might attempt to change the world and bring about God’s kingdom.  And it all starts by seeing.  Especially those it is easy not to see.  Jesus is saying to me and to you, disciples then and now – I done told you.  May our seeing and understanding change us all – thanks be to God – amen.