Sermon for Nov. 7, 2021, Pentecost 24B
Audio is here.
Mark 12:38-44
As he taught, he said, “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! They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.”
He sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. Then he called his disciples and said to them, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”
Picture one of the most elegant structures on earth. What do you imagine? Versailles? Notre Dam? How about St. Peter’s basilica in Rome?
St. Peter’s was being constructed during the lifetime of Martin Luther in the sixteenth century. It was hugely expensive. To raise money for it, the church sold “indulgences.”
The theology behind the certificates of indulgence was that the saints who had gone to heaven before us did so many good deeds that a surplus had accumulated. They called the surplus of good deeds the “treasury of merit.”
You could dip into that treasury by buying an indulgence certificate, issued by the pope. You could, for example, purchase an indulgence on behalf of your deceased loved one who was in purgatory, thus reducing their time there, and hastening the day they went to heaven.
Peasants bought as many as they could afford, and the construction of St. Peter’s basilica continued on schedule.
Luther Objected; the Reformation Began
Martin Luther objected to the church’s sale of indulgences on numerous grounds, including the economic impact on the poor peasants. He wanted a theological dialogue about it, so he wrote up his objections as a set of theses; ninety-five theses, to be exact.
On October 31, 1517 Luther posted them on the castle door, which was the standard way of initiating a dialogue in those days. That date is when historians mark the beginning of the Protestant Reformation.
In other words, the Reformation started as a public objection to the way poor people were manipulated into giving their money to an already rich religious institution.
That is strikingly similar to the situation described in the text we read from Mark’s gospel. Jesus and his apprentices went to the temple to witness what was happening with money. You might say they were following the money.
It may have been the first time any of them had seen it in person. Remember, Jesus was from Galilee to the north. The synoptic gospels, Matthew, Mark and Luke record him going to Jerusalem only once in his adult life; in fact it would turn out to be during the last week of his life. He arrived at the time of the Passover festival, which celebrated Jewish independence from Egypt, centuries earlier.
There would have been crowds, in the thousands who came on pilgrimage to the temple, as the Torah prescribed. They came with their temple tax, which was obligatory.
Honor Seeking Scribes
According to Mark’s gospel, Jesus first drew the disciples attention to a particular group of people called scribes. They were part of the aristocracy.
In an honor-shame culture, they sought and got honor. They dressed rich, dined rich, and expected deference when they were out it public.
In other words, they modeled the very opposite lifestyle that Jesus taught: meekness, humility, and solidarity with the disadvantaged. But that was not all. Jesus said they also
“devoured widows houses,”
all the while putting on a hypocritical show of religiosity.
What did it mean that they devoured widows houses? First, “house,” in those days did not mean home, it meant estate. In other words, it was whatever the widow had to live on, which could not have been much.
Somehow these aristocrats were gaming the system to enrich themselves even further, at the expense of widows.
Widows were icons of vulnerability and poverty. They, along with orphans and immigrants formed a triad of desperate persons, with no one there to protect them from just that kind of economic abuse.
For that reason, “the widow, the orphan and the immigrant” are frequently singled out for particular concern.
According to the Torah, the Law of Moses, a faithful Israelite paid a tithe of their agricultural income every year. They were to bring it to the temple two out of every three years.
The third year, however, they were to bring it to a collection point in their own towns. It was to stay there for the support of Levites, who did not own land, but who worked at the temple, and for “immigrants, the orphans, and the widow”. (Deut. 14-15)
In other words, the money should have been flowing in the opposite direction; not from widows to the temple, but from the temple to the widows.
So when Jesus then took a seat where he could directly observe who was giving and how much they were giving, he should never have seen what he saw: a widow, putting in her last coins, instead of receiving the aid she needed.
What do you picture when you think of Jesus at the temple? It was lavish. Jewish historian Josephus describes the temple this way:
“it was covered all over with plates of gold of great weight, and, at the first rising of the sun, reflected back a very fiery splendor, and mad this who forced themselves to look upon it turn their eyes away….”
There are so many things wrong with this picture. Not only was she not being helped, she was being fleeced. It was more than economic abuse; it was spiritual abuse as well. Somehow she had been convinced that her religious duty was to give beyond her means.
I have heard this story told as an example story. The widow is an example of total commitment; of giving everything. She is noble; we should emulate her, or at least, aspire to that kind of self-sacrifice.
But to tell the story that ways is to completely ignore the context and the worldview of the Torah. In the context, we have just learned that the Scribes were devouring the estates of the widows, and then we saw one widow’s estate being gulped down in one last bite.
In the worldview Torah, it is the poor who deserve our help. It goes so far as to say “There will… be no one in need among you”. No one in need. Imagine such a world!
Our Story
Why did Mark write down this story? What can we take from it? Our situation is so different from those days of the lavish temple, just before the Jewish War which ended in its total destruction. We do not have Scribes running around in rich robes, but we do have a wealthy class. This story warns against being seduced by wealth and power.
Why not? Because we have been given an alternative set of values. We have listened to the words of Torah, the prophets, and most importantly, to Jesus.
We do not believe that life consists in the abundance of possessions, and we do not believe that wealth and status make a person honorable.
We believe that no one is above the law, regardless of how many attorneys they can afford. We believe that everyone should be held accountable both to the law of the land and to the moral law.
We go even further. We understand that things are the way they are, not just because of individual circumstances, but because of systems.
That widow in the story was part of a social system that extracted money from the poor to finance the opulence of the rich hiding under a religious cloak.
In those days, there was nothing anyone could do about the system, short of starting a war, besides exposing it, which is what Jesus did. A short time later, in the year 66 they did start a war which ended in total disaster for everyone, rich and poor.
We, however, have the capacity, in our democracy, to create systems that lead to outcomes that address poverty if we choose to.
We can require a living wage be paid to workers.
We can create systems that ensure quality education, adequate health care and houseing.
We can make a criminal justice system, from policing to sentencing, that treats everyone fairly, regardless of race or wealth.
A professor at the Harvard Business School once said,
“Your system is perfectly designed to yield the result you are getting.”
The results we are getting are a staggering wealth gap, education gap, technology gap, and health gap. But these systems were made by us and can be changed by us. The values of Jesus implore us to work for systemic change.
Finally this story tells us to follow the money. Look, as Jesus did that day, with eyes wide open. Look at economic interests that are behind the justifications people make.
For example, why in the face of so much accumulated scientific evidence and our experience of of the last few years, would anyone ever doubt the catastrophic effects of climate change? Because they are afraid it might cost them. Follow the money.
Why would anyone not want to end homelessness? Because it might cost them. Follow the money.
Why would anyone not want to end food insecurity? Because it might cost them. Follow the money.
Take you seat like Jesus did at the temple, which was also the national bank in those day, and watch what comes and goes, who benefits and who gets left behind.
The bottom line (to use a financial accounting metaphor) is that God cares about money; God care who has it, and who doesn’t. God cares what gets done with it, and what doesn’t. Because, in the end, as Jesus said,
“where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matt. 6:21)
What constitutes a meaningful life? The scribes of Jesus’ day had their answer. Jesus had another. “Beware,” Jesus told his disciples. Let us also “beware.”
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