St. Paul's On-The-Hill Episcopal Church

The Rev. Stephen C. Holton, Rector

23 Pentecost; November 8, 2009

Mark 12:38-44

NOT DUMB BUT DIGNIFIED – IN GOD'S SIGHT

The poor widow has probably spent a long time getting dressed that morning. She has probably put on her best clothes. Or she has put on the least worn out clothes, the ones that are as clean and mended as she has. The ones with the fewest rips and tears, the ones with the least visible stains.

Then she takes her two copper coins, the last ones she has, and she goes to the temple where all the people are walking in and out, and she goes and puts them in the treasury.

She is probably somewhat proud, because it is all she has and she is aware of the sacrifice. She is probably somewhat humble, because it is almost nothing, almost nothing!

Let me explain why the two copper coins were so significant, and why they were the very last that she had.

The two copper coins, the smallest denomination of coinage, was what she would have saved so that, when she died, someone would be able to put them on her eyes when they were closed in death. In pagan circles, they would have paid the boatman who would have ferried her to the land of the dead.

So she was giving up all hope of a decent burial. She was consigning herself to the most impoverished of deaths, just as she had led the most impoverished of lives. If she was the least bit pagan, she was even giving up all hope of eternal life in the fields of the blessed, consigning herself to walk in limbo through all eternity.

This was the depth of her sacrifice, as she made her way to the treasury, in the bustling temple with all those rich people all around, particularly the rich ones, the well dressed ones, proudly putting their bags of money in the treasury.

This is the woman Jesus notices, as he sits with his disciples in the temple. This is the woman God notices when he sits in that temple, and this one.

'Look, look over there,' he says to his disciples. “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.”

All she had to die on too.

Jesus notices. Jesus notices the heart. He asks us to notice the heart too – ours, and everyone else's.

So when you walk into church, and you can't wear what you'd like, Jesus notices the heart. And when you can't give what you'd like. Jesus notices the heart. So wear what you can and give what you can, and Jesus will notice the heart and point it out to his other disciples.

We too are called to notice the heart. Jesus speaks to all of us in the shadows and says – look twice at those around us, first on the outside where we all unavoidably judge our neighbors, but secondly and more importantly on the inside, where God sees us and judges us and loves us.

We come in feeling dumb, ashamed and embarrassed by who we are and what we can give. God sees us as his beloved children, doing the best we can.

He sees us as not dumb but dignified; not dumb but dignified, in all we do – when we do it with a full heart.

God can do more with a full heart, even when it only gives a little; than he can do with an empty heart, even when it gives a lot.

Better your only pair of decent clothes, however old; than one of many in your closet if its worn only to impress.

Certainly – when he says: “Beware of the scribes who like to walk around in long robes . . . They devour widow's houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers” - when he says that, he's saying that it is better to give a little gained honestly than to give a lot gained dishonestly.

As we think about stewardship of our time and money and energy, we are faced with the peculiar alchemy of God – who always prefers the tax collector and the sinner rather than the religious and the righteous, if the tax collector and the sinner come with a full heart; and the religious and the righteous do not.

He prefers the poor to the rich; if the poor give all they can and the rich do not – even if its more in real numbers than the poor could ever hope to give.

And here's the mystery. Jesus does do more with the gifts of the poor than the gifts of the rich. He does do more with the full love of a sinner than with the half-hearted love of a righteous man.

Mary Magdalene, the prostitute, followed more faithfully, loved more dearly, followed more nearly, than the Pharisee who noticed her washing Jesus' feet and disapproved.

Zacchaeus the tax collector, who destroyed his share of livelihoods, amounted to more amongst Jesus' followers when he repented and restored those livelihoods, than those righteous who never sinned a day in their life, and never loved a day in their life either.

When we come here and offer all we can, even if its a little, and we feel ashamed; God can do a great deal with it. When we offer only a little, and something we won't notice, God can't do much.

2,000 years later we have the huge Church of God, built on the tax collectors and sinners, the fishermen and prostitutes, the slaves and widows. It is still here, still welcoming tax collectors and sinners, fishermen and prostitutes, slaves and widows.

We welcome all those whom no one else will welcome. We try to see the inside, not just the outside. Jesus saw inside each one of us, treasured it and valued it and redeemed it. He teaches us to look inside ourselves in the same way, and to treasure it as much as he does; so we can offer it, and he can use it for the good of others.

Then of course he can, and he has, and he will. So give what you can, even if its not enough. It is, when he has it – just as 5,000 were fed when the disciples came up with only 5 loaves and 2 fish.

Give your heart, even if its the heart of a sinner. Its enough in his hands. Look what he did with the sinners who gave themselves to him back then.

Say the dumb thing that's on your mind when you're in exalted company. It may be just what someone needs to hear.

Show up among the rich and powerful. You may be just the one God wants to see – as he wanted to see the poor widow, and pointed her out to his disciples.

I had the pleasure of having lunch last week with a number of important people, and the Bishop of Jerusalem. He shared how he and the other religious leaders of Jerusalem get together periodically to join in dialogue about the needs of the people of Jerusalem.

It was refreshing to hear! He said they were people of hope, because hope is what people need, hope is what religion offers, and hope is not what politics offers, at least in that part of the world, perhaps in all parts of the world.

Perhaps hope is our widow's mite, the small contribution that looks valueless and dumb in the world today, the small contribution God can do something with, when he can't do anything with the large bags of other materials.

I asked the bishop what he thought we should concentrate on in our dialogues in this country. He said: The dignity of every person.

This is actually the last line of our Baptismal Covenant, our baptismal promise.

“Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?” “I will, with God's help.” (BCP, p 305)

Every human being – like poor widows, prostitutes, farmers, fishermen; no account, unnoticeable people on the edges of crowds, trying to screw up their courage to walk into the important spaces; trying not to be noticed, to cover up their sins, stains and inadequacies.

Notice them. God does. Love them. God does. Love yourself. God does.

Know that God uses you. He will use you, to build up the magnificent church of God, his vessel to bring peace, hope, love to the world.