Sermon Sunday November 10, 2024
Rev. Norman A. Michaud
“A Penny’s Worth”
Mark 12: 38-44
For many, this has been a week of celebration. For many, this has been a week of grief. We have been here before. Citizens of the United States have endured crisis and jubilation. I note that the United States celebrates its veterans tomorrow. Woodrow Wilson initially declared this Federal Holiday as Armistice Day. Its purpose was to honor those who served our military during World War One, the war to end all wars. Over one hundred and sixteen thousand men perished in our brief entry into World War One, which also bore more than three hundred thousand casualties. They fought, turned the outcome of the war in favor of democracies, and returned home without the support from our government, hence our people, for many returning veterans who needed our support.
Following World War II and the conclusion of the Korean War, President Eisenhower changed Armistice Day to honor all war veterans. His administration, through the will of the United States citizens, changed this Federal Holiday to Veterans Day in 1954. However, the Rosevelt Administration provided all Veterans with the GI Bill in 1944, just days after the Normandy Invasion. The American Legion designed the main features of what became the Serviceman’s Readjustment Act, AKA the GI Bill, and pushed it through Congress. The bill unanimously passed both chambers of Congress in the spring of 1944. This law supported all veterans in furthering education, job training, ongoing medical assistance, and home loans. With these benefits, the veterans of World War Two created the United States as we know it. Roads and highways connected the country. College education changed from a small percentage of the elite to a nation of advanced education. Led by the United States, democracy and governments for the people grew and thrived worldwide. We continue to promote democracy with blood and treasure throughout our world. Here at home, we continue to support the widows of those who served this nation. Consider this as Christian thought routed in Christian theology.
Consider how often the Bible talks about widows, who were among the most vulnerable members of society. In the time of Jesus, an inheritance that might go to a surviving spouse would then be passed on to the sons. The widow would be expected to live with her oldest son and his family and have them provide for her until she died.
However, if she had no sons, or if her sons were too young to take on that responsibility, then she was at the mercy of society. All wives were vulnerable in Jerusalem, and society fell short of honoring mothers as God told them to in the Fifth Commandment. These are why the Bible and the Gospels talk so much about widows.
The story of the widow who puts her last two coins in the temple coffers during the Passover festival comes along in the lectionary just in time for stewardship season for many churches. This year, it comes right after a consequential election in the United States. The contrast between this widow and the other givers in the Mark 12 text resonates in this time when so much money has been poured into the democratic enterprise by both corporations with deep pockets and grassroots donors who gave what little they could. The competition for our generosity has been fierce lately.
As most of our church members and neighbors can attest, the power structure demands far more from the average person than it does of the person of means. Warren Buffet is regularly at the top of the Forbes list of philanthropic givers. Over his lifetime, he’s given around $3 billion of his own money to various charitable causes. Yet that’s approximately 38 percent of his lifetime earnings—proportionately far less than the widow in our story. Buffet’s tax rate is calculated at only one-tenth of a percent. Contrast his tax rate with that of the average person, who can expect to pay between one-quarter and one-third of our total earnings in taxes.
By lifting the widow’s actions, Jesus does not simply praise her for generosity; he’s indicting the system that keeps her poor. He asks us to face our greed. Everyone must ask themselves some tough questions. Is this right? Why is she down to only two coins of the lowest possible denomination? How did she get here, and did we let it happen?
Bryan Stevenson, the author of Just Mercy, said, “The opposite of poverty is not wealth. The opposite of poverty is justice.”
Something similar happens in Mark 12:38-44, where Jesus remarks upon a widow’s offering, against the background of her poverty and suffering, to call attention to her generosity and the selfishness of the scribes. But there is more in that passage that’s worth paying attention to.
In this passage, Mark tells the story in two parts. First, in 12:38-40, we have a teaching from Jesus in which he criticizes scribes for their pretensions to status and wealth. “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets,” Jesus says, for “they devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers.” Then, in 12:41-44, Jesus calls his disciple’s attention to a lowly widow to underscore his point. Sitting near the temple treasury, Jesus and his disciples watch people making their offerings. Many wealthy people give large sums of money. He sees a widow give two small coins that are worth a penny. Jesus praises her generosity, focuses on her small contribution, and declares that what she provides is worth proportionally more than all the grand sums donated by others.
In Mark’s telling, then, the greed of the scribes and wealthy folks is contrasted with the humble generosity of the widow, and all of it is focused on the physical site of the temple. Not coincidentally, in the Gospel of Mark, this scene at the temple treasury is the last thing we hear before chapter 13, where Jesus predicts the temple’s destruction and all the suffering and horrors that come with the destruction of Jerusalem. The implication, in Mark, is that economics has something to do with the downfall of the temple and Jerusalem. In a long tradition of Hebrew prophecy, Jesus calls attention to economic inequality and foretells the destruction it will bring. Unlike the prophets, though, Jesus does not call the people of the city to repentance or change; he points out their untruthfulness and predicts their downfall at the hands of Roman authority and cruelty.
Sacrifice often means something very different from an act of devotion or worship. It often means giving up more than we should and less than we can. In the United States, we ask those in the middle class and the poor to bear the weight of taxes that benefit the wealthy. The more a billionaire makes, the less likely they may be to pay any tax. Seeing Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos launch astronauts into space is fun. They can spend their wealth as they choose, but they pay less taxes than an average worker who creates their wealth. A corporate space race for them is no sacrifice.
This kind of sacrifice echoes Jesus’ warning in the passage: Beware. At times, sacrifice is best when someone else does it. We marvel at the families of slain or injured soldiers and teachers who pay for supplies out of their own pockets. We lift them high on the pedestal with the poor widow, keeping them distinct and distant from our daily lives.
We do not imagine ourselves alongside them because what they represent for us is often more than we can give or more than we can imagine we can provide.
Focusing on the two copper coins may help us embrace the genuine sacrifice in the story on a deeper level. Those coins represent more than money. They represent faith and belief in our lives with concrete acts and not solely by rituals that no longer hold spiritual power.
Perhaps Jesus symbolically sees himself as the widow and her generous offering; all that she has, offering her very life, is what Jesus knows is coming. He is no hypocrite yearning for robes, riches, and a place of honor at the temple. Jesus becomes the sacrifice to save humanity from the act of turning from God’s promise of abundant and eternal life. Christ calls us to love our neighbors and ourselves and to love God, and each sacrifice brings us closer to the realm of our Creator.