November 10, 2024

The Widow’s Might!

You’ve probably heard enough sermons on this passage about the “widow’s mite” to choke a big, muddy pig. I’ve preached a ton of them too. They’re always stewardship sermons – sermons about how this poor woman who only had mite, gave it as an offering, and so we too should give sacrificially. Well, I’m not preaching a stewardship sermon this time, and my sermon title is not a typo. If you’ll excuse the play on words, I’d like to share a few thoughts about the might, the amazing power, displayed by this woman of faith – a power that could change your life, and change the world.
I want to begin by sharing my unshakeable conviction that what we are about here – here in this church – is the most important thing going on in the world. That may sound like hyperbole, but it’s not.
What’s the biggest problem we’re facing in our world or in our nation today? Is it a fragile, teetering, global economy in which the disparity between the rich and poor keeps growing and threatening an eventual breakdown of the social order? If so, what’s the solution? Some say it’s more government regulation, some say it’s less. Some say it’s socialism, some say unrestrained capitalism. Here’s the honest truth, as deeply as I can peer into it: no government regulation, no expanded freedom, no economic system, no “ism” can solve this problem, because every system can be beat, every regulation can be skirted, every law can be loopholed, every structure can be manipulated. The only thing that can finally bring economic justice and optimal prosperity to the greatest number of people is if the minds and hearts of human beings are changed on a massive scale, and mutual and community interests, fairness, and generosity, overshadow self-interest and greed.
Is the greatest problem we face today the overuse of resources that threatens our environment with pollution and global warming, and raises the specter of wars being fought over food, water, and land? If so, what’s the solution? Maybe we’ll find some miraculous technological fix that will allow us to continue our global population growth and increasing use of natural resources without dire consequences. But something tells me mother earth has clear limits that will be imposed one way or another. We need, at least, new minds and hearts, recalibrated to learn perhaps from our American Indian brothers and sisters to live more in harmony and partnership with the land and the trees, and the sky. We need to rethink our values, and our definitions of good life and good communities.
Is the greatest threat we face from radical religious fanatics, bent on carrying out holy war? If so what’s the answer? Will more bombs and tanks make us secure? Will squadrons of unmanned drones armed with guns and missiles do the trick? Not according to our best military and diplomatic authorities. The only way to bring security in the long run is to win the battle to change minds and hearts. And if the minds and hearts of our enemies are going to change, I suspect it’s going to involve some changing of our own minds and hearts.
That’s what we’re doing here, folks. We’re not coming up with new economic policies; we’re not inventing new energy technologies; we’re not putting forward new strategies in international relations, we’re one small outpost of a whole huge network of revolutionaries, doing the daily, weekly business of changing minds and hearts, starting with our own. It’s the only thing that’s ever going to make a real difference in this world.
And a prime example of the kind of change we’re about is a poor widow woman who walked into the courtyard one day while Jesus was hanging around by the treasury. Her story isn’t about the money she gave. It needs to be heard in the context it’s set in. Jesus had been talking about the pride and self-interest of the religious leaders of his day – the ones who, as Jesus said, “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.” Truth is, I wear a long robe on Sunday mornings, and have the best seat in the sanctuary, and some here would say I am at times inclined to long prayers. So I, for one, need to be a little cautious and reflective about my motives and values. Perhaps we all need to.
The problem with the scribes, the ones in the long robes with the long prayers and the big gifts, is not simply that they had a bad attitude, it’s that they missed the point! Their values were in the wrong places. They thought it was all about them! They were putting their trust in prestige, their confidence in a system that set them apart with comfort and privilege, their faith only in themselves, and their money only where their mouths were, not their hearts.
I remember as a boy coming to church with a fist full of pennies on my birthday. It must be that just about every church in those days did the same thing. When it was your birthday, you brought to church the number of pennies that represented how old you were, and put them in the bank one at a time, while everyone sang, “Count Your blessings.”
How many people here did that when you were children? How many of you know the old song, “Count Your Blessings?” Would you join me in singing it? It’s just, “Count your blessings, name them one by one, count your blessings see what God has done.”
It’s good to share something, even if it’s just a song, or a memory. But we share so much more than that, don’t we? For one thing, we share in all the many blessings that are ours in this world, in this nation, in this place we live – blessings, at times, too many to count! From the simple beauty of a sunrise to the penetrating giggle of a baby, from the underappreciated gift of three meals a day to the rarely mentioned extravagance of a place to lay our heads at night. Our inheritance as children of the earth is wondrous!
We also share in the rich fellowship of this church. I doubt that there is person here who cannot testify to the joy and life-giving goodness of all the laughter, quarrels, tears, labors, and hugs that get passed around here. They’re found sometimes on these Sunday mornings in the pews or at the coffee hour. And when we take the time to sit here, look around, and count up all the blessings that are ours, we are doing an exercise in humility, we’re tempering our pride, and allowing gratitude to deepen our souls and give us generous spirits.
And so we also share the privilege of the “poor widow” – the woman Jesus pointed out who dropped her two pennies in the offering. It is the privilege of sharing in something far grander than ourselves, and having something of ultimate worth to give ourselves to. It is the priceless treasure of knowing that the power of the Spirit is loose in the world, and any common one of us can have a stake in that power and that Spirit simply by throwing the “meager weight of our existence” into the fray on the side of good.
It is the power of the widow’s pennies. Her gift was blessed by Jesus not because of the gift itself, but because it represented the fact that this poor woman “got it!” She understood. Because she gave all of what little she had, it was apparent that she had some sense of the greatness of what she was participating in, and a profound humility at the undertaking. It was clear that she was the sort who brought those last two pennies to the treasury with a quiet little smile – a smile that reflected a candle glow within: the light of joy at having found something worth giving her all to, of knowing that there were other poor widows bringing their pennies, and many more who were helping to keep the faith, proclaim the word, give hope to the downtrodden, and speak truth to power. She had discovered the profound joy of shared love, genuine compassion, living generously. And in all that there was a kind of strength the scribes could not comprehend. It was the might of the poor widow, who had found something to be part of that ignited her spirit and rekindled her passion. That, my friends, is a treasure.
The kind of example that Jesus was pointing to in the act of this woman is more than a matter of coins. It is a participation in the divine sedition of the Kingdom; and it is joining in league with all those others throughout the world whose souls have been ignited, and who come to the altar with quiet smiles to give themselves for that which is greater than themselves. Those quiet smiles and acts of simple goodness and humility are a shared experience, a communal act.
I’d like for you to think about that poor widow and her mighty act of selflessness, and I’d like you to smile. Because you are part of a powerful force in this world, a force that is greater than systems, and polices, and laws, and inventions. It is the might of widows and workers and chambermaids and children and families and fund managers and truck drivers and teenagers gaining a new mind and a new heart, learning to share a commitment to giving themselves to the cause of truth and beauty and love – the work of the Spirit of Holiness in the world. And I’d like you to consider that your choice to be here, to share in this community of faith, to sit together and weekly count and recount our blessings, is not a solitary gesture, but that it represents your participation in something grander than yourself. It represents your small piece of the Divine great design for humanity, your mighty act of changing the world, one heart, one mind at a time – beginning with yourself.