Online Sermons
(Eve of) 23rd Sunday in Pentecost: November 7, Mary Lee Folkedahl-Meehleder
Welcome to our website. You are here: The Word --> Online Sermons[Ed. Note: This is Diocesan Convention weekend. Our Saturday service was a lay-led Evening Prayer, as all clergy were away. This homily was given by Mary Lee, lay preacher for the evening.]
Good evening.
As you probably know, this is the time of our Diocesan Convention in Des Moines. I was asked to give the homily this evening. When I looked at the Gospel reading, I began to consider how it might relate to my being the Episcopal Relief and Development Representative for our parish, and also a Franciscan. And, I thought I might offer that perspective.
This Gospel reading from Mark is really a two-part reading. The first is about Jesus teaching in the Temple, warning about sanctimonious scribes. The second is about the widow’s offering.
In the verse preceding our reading, we would read that Jesus is teaching a “great throng” in the Temple who “heard him gladly.” He begins teaching about certain scribes who gain honor and wealth by taking advantage of others, specifically widows. Some scribes in that time were known to only appear pious to gain prestige, to get more business taking care of widows’ estates, to get larger and larger fees. They were hypocritical and greedy. Jesus warns the crowd that appearance can be deceiving.
The scene switches here to the second part of the Gospel reading. We might picture this in our imagination, Jesus having just taught a “great throng” in the Temple, now sits apart from the crowds, observing the line of people placing their offerings in a treasury container. We don’t know how long he waited and watched, but we would imagine Jesus to be very patient. And when he sees her, he sees the generosity of her heart, her giving all that she has to give. He had not called his disciples to see the “many rich people put in large sums,” but he calls them to him to notice this woman.
And, so, here is the story of the “widow’s mite.” We may still think of it as this because in the King James Version, we would hear this: “And there came a certain poor widow, and she threw in two mites, which make a farthing.” The widow offers two small copper coins, the smallest of coins in circulation, called “lepta” in Greek. It would take 128 lepta to make one denarius, which was just the basic, daily wage. It might be interesting to note, also, that the word lepta is related to the word leprosy, rooted in Greek to the concept of peeling, a coin so very thin to be nearly worthless.
Is the first part of the story setting the stage for the second? On the one hand are those who are able to take advantage of their society’s structure . On the other hand is the poor widow, terribly disadvantaged. Is this widow poor because someone had “devoured her house?” – possibly someone who preceded her in the line and made a display of offering a large sum. Had she not only been widowed, but victimized as well? And now, she has absolutely nothing.
In our own time, there is still a contrast of extremes – on the one hand, the advantaged and powerful; on the other, the disadvantaged and powerless. And, here I would like to talk a little about Episcopal Relief and Development, the international relief and development agency of our church. In our world today, there are two billion people who live on $1 a day or less; most of them are women and their children. There are still those who have only the “widow’s mite.” Each year, nearly one million people die of malaria; most are younger than five years old. In 2007, Christ Church sent a donation to Episcopal Relief and Development to provide 85 mosquito bed nets and training to prevent this disease. It is estimated that just one $12 insecticide-treated mosquito net can save up to three lives. The problems of this world are, indeed, very large, but I think what I like about Episcopal Relief and Development is that, together, we can make a difference.
In the nineteenth century Julia A. Carney wrote these lines in “Little Things”:
Little drops of water,
Little grains of sand,
Make the mighty ocean
And the beauteous land.St. Francis was a wealthy and privileged young man. He experienced profound conversion of heart after unexpectedly encountering a leper, placing money in the leper’s hand and kissing his diseased skin. His conversion of heart led him to embracing radical poverty. He eventually even relinquished his clothing before his bishop, which must have seemed like great foolishness. But, St. Francis appreciated that kind of holy foolishness, that abandonment of self for others. St. Francis embodied joy.
In the Gospel reading, we understand that the rich gave out of their abundance, and the poor widow gave out of her poverty. Both gave. And, so how might we think about their offerings? We might think about the First Book of Samuel: “people judge others by what they look like, but the Lord judges people by what is in their hearts.” Is Jesus teaching us here not only about giving, but also about how to be a giver? Is it not the size of the gift, but the spirit of the giver? That Jesus sees what is truly in our hearts?
A couple chapters later in Mark, we would read the story about another woman, the woman who breaks an expensive jar of nard, perfume, to anoint Jesus. He commends her by saying “she has done what she could.” Both women give what they can, from the heart. In the Second Letter of Paul to the Corinthians, we are advised this way: “each one must do as he has made up his mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.”
Some of us may be working for social justice, working to change the foundations, the structures that make people powerless in our world, addressing that first part of the Gospel reading. Some of us may be helping in places, feeding, clothing, visiting, helping people where they are, responding with compassion, here and now, to the disadvantaged, the poor widows and the lepers of our time. Together, all of us, giving from our hearts, can make a difference. On his deathbed, St. Francis of Assisi said “I have done what is mine to do. May Christ show you what is yours.”
Amen.