St. Paul’s Church in
Bergen & Church of the Incarnation, Jersey City NJ
November 11, 2018
Year B, Proper 27:
The Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost
Ruth 3:1-5; 4:13-17
Psalm 127
Hebrews 9:24-38
Mark 12:38-44
Life is Supposed to be Different Among Us
On
Saturday, as I edit the Prayers of the People, and then each Sunday as I stand
there listening to the lector lead us in those prayers, I pray – I think – I
hope – that maybe the next week will be a week with no troubles – that next
week we can finally get a break – that we won’t have anything to add to the
long list of natural and manmade disasters.
Maybe
you also pray – think – hope something similar.
There may or may not be much that we can do
about natural disasters, like the terrifying wildfires burning California.
But, it would be
nice if we could somehow cut down on the manmade disasters, which are so
upsetting and discouraging.
This
time last week we were just absorbing the horrific slaughter at the Tree of
Life Synagogue and now here we are today mourning the senseless slaughter of
people just out for a good time at a country western concert in Thousand Oaks, California
– and unbelievably some of the same people at that concert – including one of
the victims - were survivors of the bloodbath at a much larger concert in Las
Vegas last year.
And,
of course, on Tuesday we had an important election in our country – an election
that once again exposed our bitter differences – a divide so deep that we seem
unable to hear each other, let alone understand, or empathize with, one
another.
All
of these manmade disasters raise a question:
Has
life always been this way?
Or, are we just
more aware of it because of the speed and easy access of modern media?
I
don’t know, though I lean toward it’s always been this way.
After
all, today we mark the hundredth anniversary of the end of the First World War
– a war that killed about 10 million soldiers and civilians, not including
those who died because of famine and illness.
There
have always been manmade disasters, yet close to the heart of our faith is the
belief that this is not the way things were meant to be – that, because of our sin,
humanity has gone horribly wrong.
And,
also close to the heart of our faith is Jesus’ teaching and insistence that
whatever horrors are going on out there, life in the temple – life here here
among us - is supposed to be different.
Over
and over throughout the gospels, Jesus uses many opportunities and situations
to teach us – to remind us – that life here among us is supposed to be
different.
For
example, if you were here a couple of weeks ago, you may remember that we heard
the story of the brother apostles James and John asking Jesus if they could sit
at his right hand and left hand in the kingdom.
Remember
that?
And,
after hearing this request, the other apostles get angry with the brothers,
presumably because they want a shot at the having the best seats in the
kingdom of God.
Very
worldly behavior, right?
And
now in today’s gospel lesson we find Jesus and his disciples in the Jerusalem
Temple – the center of Jewish religious and political life – the place where,
in a sense, God was believed to dwell. But, there was also a long history of
Jewish prophets and others being critical of the Temple and its leaders, and
Jesus is very much part of this tradition.
Anyway,
Jesus and his disciples are in the Temple, where he offers a stinging critique
of the scribes. These men were generally highly esteemed for their great
learning, but Jesus simply isn’t having it. He calls them out as villains -
villains who “devour” widows’ houses. He calls them out as hypocrites -
hypocrites walking around in their long robes saying long prayers “for the sake
of appearances.”
No,
Jesus is not too crazy about the religious leaders of his time –and, as someone
who, um, sometimes wears long robes and recites long prayers in public,
passages like this always get me thinking about what Jesus would make of the
religious leaders of today – what Jesus would make of people who say they
minister in his name – what Jesus would make of me.
Maybe
fortunately for us professional Christians, the story moves on quickly to
another scene in the Temple – this time opposite the Temple treasury.
And,
at first glance, this second part of today’s gospel lesson looks like a perfect story for a priest who is trying
to get his parishioners to pledge as much money as they can to keep the church
going.
Jesus
observes a poor widow who gives two small copper coins – a tiny, tiny amount of
money but it’s everything she has – the poor widow gives all that she has to
the temple.
After
seeing this act of extraordinary generosity, Jesus tells 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 that she had to live
on.”
This
story – the story of the so-called widow’s “mite” – is a story that has inspired
a million stewardship sermons. We’ve probably all heard them and I’ve even
given one or two – but, I wonder if we aren’t meant to learn a different lesson
than giving all that we have to the church.
Notice
that Jesus doesn’t exactly praise the woman’s extravagant generosity. No, he
simply states a fact: since she gave everything she had – and since she was,
perhaps, generous to a fault – she did give more generously than the others who
gave out of their abundance, who gave from the money they had left over.
So,
I wonder if this story that seems to be about generosity isn’t in fact just
another part of Jesus’ critique of the Temple.
We
know Jesus isn’t crazy about the long-robed scribes living pretty well.
And, we don’t have
to stretch our imaginations to conclude that Jesus doesn’t approve of the well
to do giving merely out of their abundance.
And, considering the system that Jesus is
critiquing, I can’t imagine that he really approves of the poor widow giving
everything she has to support that very system.
But, here’s the
thing: I think the real issue for Jesus is that the temple – this house of
prayer – this house of God – is just too much like the world
In fact, the
temple system that Jesus critiques sounds an awful lot like the world outside,
doesn’t it?
There are a few
well-dressed people with all of the privilege who profit off of the backs of
the poor – the poor who, willingly or not, give most, if not all, that they
have.
But, Jesus teaches
and insists that it’s supposed to be different in God’s house.
Life is supposed
to be different in the temple.
Life is supposed
to be different among us.
That’s what the
brother apostles James and John didn’t get – at least, not yet, when they asked
to sit beside Jesus in glory.
Life is supposed
to be different among us.
That’s why Jesus
is critical of the religious leaders of the first century – and is probably not
so thrilled with many of us religious leaders of today – far too often it’s
about our own glory, fame, and worldly power.
Life is supposed
to be different among us.
That’s why I’m not
so sure that Jesus approves of the poor widow giving all that she has – it’s
too much like the world where the many poor are broke but the few well to do
people continue to do just fine.
Life is supposed
to be different among us.
You’ve all been
around the block a few times, so I don’t need to tell you that too often things
aren’t as different here among us as they should be.
While I don’t
think I devour widow’s houses, I know that I’m not as aware as I should be of
how much I benefit from being a white man in our society – and how much I
benefit from being automatically given respect because I’m ordained.
And, it’s true that
some of us merely give out of our abundance while we place too many burdens on
a few.
Life is supposed
to be different among us.
But, you know, when
I get discouraged I’m reminded that more and more, life among us does
look different than life out there in the world.
Our church has
been diverse for a long time, but I’m struck by how in a time of such bitter
division out there, we’ve for the most part managed to stay united in here.
Out in the world
there is so much pressure and worry over material possessions – so much faith
that the more we have the happier we’ll be – yet here there is so much
generosity - so many of you have signed up to welcome our Family Promise
guests, or have given to Mia’s vision, or have increased your pledge in a time
when everything seems so uncertain or made a pile of sandwiches for the hungry
or even just given up something you really like and that some maybe even need –
yes, I’m talking about coffee hour – in order to make room for people who have
no home.
Life is supposed
to be different among us.
Finally, a quick
story:
The other day one
of our parishioners celebrated his birthday, but he didn’t celebrate it with
family and friends, didn’t go out to eat, didn’t make a wish and blow out the
candles, didn’t receive gifts – at least not those wrapped in a box.
No, he spent his
birthday hanging out with our Family Promise guests and spending the night
sleeping on an inflatable mattress rather than at home in his own bed.
When I went home
for the night, I left him happily playing a game of checkers with one of our
young guests.
Life is supposed
to be different among us.
And, sometimes, it
really is.
Amen.