Community Church Sermons

Twenty-second Sunday after Pentecost, Year B - November 12, 2000

"Did You Notice That?"

Mark 12:38-44

Interesting story, this tale of the widow and her gift.

Now most of us know this as the story of the widow's m-i-t-e. Church stewardship campaigns have successfully used this story over the years to encourage members to be more generous in their giving. And you can interpret the words here to make that point, but unfortunately, that misses an important feature of the text.

Let me invite you to take a look at the story a little differently than you may have in the past. Let's not see it as a passage that tells us that the secret to life is in what or how you give. No, let's see it instead as a story that tells us the secret to life is in what and who you notice!

The scene is the temple treasury, with it's great big offertory pot out front. And Jesus and his followers are there, watching the long lines of people making their contributions. Let me use a little contemporary poetic license to describe what happens next:

Bill and Melinda Gates drive up to the temple treasury. They have just consolidated the assets of the William H. Gates Foundation and the Gates Learning Foundation. The new entity, born in 1999, is called The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. The combined assets of the fund at its inception, including a new 6-billion dollar gift from the Gates', were $17.1 billion dollars. In a spirit of tremendous generosity - in the story as I imagine it - Bill and Melinda Gates sign the whole kit and caboodle over to the temple treasury. There is rejoicing throughout the land!

But Jesus, sitting there by the temple, doesn't even look up and notice.

Next to arrive is the motorcade of the President of the United States. The bullet-proof limousine door opens and Secret Service agents swarm out. Then comes Mr. Gore…and Mr. Bush… having just worked out an historic job-sharing arrangement. They have come with a large facsimile of a U.S. Treasury check made out for many millions of dollars in foreign aid. Together, they hold the cardboard prop while press pool cameras click and flash. The check is made out to the Israelis and the Palestinians together. There is a spirit of peace in the air! Everyone joins together in celebration!

But Jesus, sitting there by the temple, doesn't even look up and notice.

Finally, a big yellow church bus comes chugging into Temple Square. The doors fold back, and out flows a host of people, young and old. They are from Tellico Village Community Church in Loudon, Tennessee. They have been putting on pancake breakfasts forever to take this trip to the Holy Land, and have waited a long time for peace to be restored. The church members have chipped in to purchase a new…ah, say, Clavinova…for the temple. They've even thrown in Harriet Schneider to play the Clavinova for free, for a month!

And the people of Jerusalem are moved by this tremendous outpouring of affection, and the city erupts with joy!

But Jesus, sitting there by the temple, doesn't even look up and notice.

And while all these colorful entourages of good and generous people join hands together to sing "Havah Nagilah" followed by "Let There Be Peace on Earth And Let It Begin With Me", a tiny, black-robed figure slowly makes her way into the square.

It is almost pitiful to watch her, a frail wisp of a person fighting her way through the crowded street, carefully threading through the singing people who don't even notice her. She advances at a snail's pace toward the treasury of the temple. And then, upon finally reaching her destination, the black-robed figure reaches into the folds of her tattered garment, pulling out a tiny canvas purse. She opens it, and her long fingers, made crooked by age, fumble inside the purse, finally drawing up one and then a second copper coin. The woman turns the purse upside down and shakes it to see if there might be more inside. But it is empty. She looks for a very long moment at the treasure held in her arthritic fingers. Two pennies. It's all she has left, all she has to live on. And then, with a look of determination on her face, the woman slowly reaches out toward the pot and releases her coins.

And while the noise of the crowd thunders all around, a deafening cacophony echoing within the walls of the city, Jesus, sitting there by the temple, suddenly looks up, and takes notice!

You see, this story is not about money, or offerings, or anything along that line. They are simply the props to make the tale more interesting. This story is not so much about what and how you give, but about who and what you NOTICE.

While the world notices people of high social account, people of wealth, people of power, people of accomplishment, people who pull themselves up by their own bootstraps to achieve some measure of standing, Jesus notices a poor, impoverished widow! And he points out to us that, from God's point of view, she's given more than the multi-billionaires, more than the leaders of the free world, more even than the good and generous people of Tellico Village Community Church. We all gave out of our surplus, Jesus shows us - which is how 99.9% of all people give. But she - this widow - this person on the lowest rung of the social ladder is different! She gives not out of her surplus, but out of her lack.

And Jesus notices!

It's amazing the people and the deeds Jesus took notice of.

There was that father whose son grabbed his share of the future inheritance before his father was even dead, and ran away from home. The boy squandered every last dime. And then, out of money and with no place to go, this prodigal boy has the audacity to come home. And his dad - as hurt as a parent can be, having been rejected by his own child - responds in an incredibly amazing way! He opens his arms, and throws a welcome-home party, and lavishes the boy with forgiveness and love! But notice this: the father does not give out of any abundance of warm and fuzzy feelings. But as empty as he is, this father somehow musters up one more gift of grace.

And Jesus says, "Notice that!"

Jesus also called attention once to one of "those kind of people." You know the kind I mean. The kind we would never associate with. One day this poor excuse for a human being is walking along the Jericho Road when he happens across one of "our kind of people" lying injured by the side of the road. And while lots of other "people like us" just walk by, too busy to stop and help, this - this - Samaritan fellow comes to the man's aid, saving his life, and even providing for his medical bills. Not that he had any respect for the bigotry of the injured man's culture. Not that he wasn't filled with hurt and anger for the discrimination he experienced every day from the likes of this injured man. But somehow pushing past all that bitterness, the man from Samaria musters up a simple gift of grace, and saves his life.

And Jesus says, "Notice that!"

So what is it that Jesus wants us to notice?

Well, first of all, Jesus wants us to notice the beauty and the heroism of the poor, and the lowly, and the often unnoticed people of our world.

Yesterday, some of us were at Mt. Zion Community Church in Birmingham, Alabama for our I.C.C.C. regional meeting. The seven of us from Tellico Village were the only white faces in the crowd. We did our best to keep up with the clapping and the spirited singing, but we are definitely handicapped in that department.

One of the songs the Mt. Zion choir sang really touched my heart. It was a rousing gospel song that talked about all the things that can go wrong in life – being down to your last dime, being discriminated against, being out of work, experiencing tragedy. And then, after stating the problems, the refrain boldly rang, “I’m gonna STOP complainin’, and start thankin’ the Lord!”

And as that refrain was sung over and over and over again, it struck me that the song was about me. Because, you see, I am a complainer. I complain when I’m in line at Wal-Mart and the person ahead of me has an item that doesn’t have a price-tag, and everything grinds to a halt while they go and look for it. I complain when I’m in a restaurant, and the service isn’t to my liking. I complain about upward spiraling POA dues, and about people who rub me the wrong way, and about my golf game. I complain about a lot of things. I even complain about all the complaining that goes on in our community. Do you know what I mean? I’m sure that you don’t share this weakness with me, but I want to be honest with you. I complain about a lot of things.

And there I was, sitting among a company of African-American people some of whose roots run deep into a racially oppressed community once made famous by the bombing of a Birmingham church, and the killing of some little girls. There I was, sitting among good, decent people who are carefully watched by security cameras when they go shopping, and among whom there is hardly a man who has not been stopped and searched by the police for no other reason than that he is black. There I was, sitting among folks who experience the oppressive terror of racism every day of their lives – the recipients of firebombs, social ostracism, and racial epithets. And there they were, singing this remarkable gospel song, “I’m gonna STOP complainin’, and start thankin’ the Lord!”

And Jesus poked me in the ribs, and said, “Notice that!”

You see, the true heroes in life are not the most successful among us. Not those whose lives are easy and full. Not those who pull themselves up by their own bootstraps. Not those who seem able to inoculate themselves from difficulty. Not those who give because they have lots of resources to spare.

No - Jesus teaches - those people who give out of their abundance have nothing of real spiritual value to offer you. But if you want a true hero in your life, someone who can share with you the secret of abundant life, take notice of someone like this widow, someone like that father, someone like the Samaritan, someone like those beautiful people singing that gospel song. Take notice of someone who will probably always be poor, despite their best efforts. Someone who’ll always end up at the bottom of the heap. Someone who will never make it in the eyes of the world. Someone who has almost nothing left to offer – and yet, trusting God for their needs, they muster up beautiful gifts of grace, and without complaint, give them away to help others.

Have you ever noticed the beauty of the poor and lowly people around us? Social scientists tell us an amazing truth about the socio-economic group that most helps the poor. Do you know who they are? The poor!

Those who study charitable giving report a remarkable finding. The most generous Americans, in terms of percentage of income given to charitable purposes, are not the Bill Gates’ of our world. The most generous contributors to charity are the poor.

And Jesus wants us to notice this because, when we learn to see the beauty of those who are poor – whether poor in material goods or poor in spirit – we will discover a new and radical kind of faith.

A faith that stops complain’, and starts thankin’ the Lord!

The widow was poor, but she stopped complaining and gave her last few coins to help others. The father was hurt, but he stopped complaining, and threw the party to forgive his son. The Samaritan was a victim of terrible hate crimes, but he stopped complaining, and gave help to one of the perpetrators of the crime!

And it seems to me that this new kind of faith is exactly the kind of faith you and I are looking for. Because I know for a fact there are some here today who have run out of emotional gas and don't have the strength to go on; some who've been terribly wounded by others and don't have the capacity to forgive; some who are trying to be peacemakers in their family, but are running low on endurance; some who want to help kids, or seniors, or hungry people, but feel like they've got nothing to offer.

And if you are one of those people, listen to what Jesus says!

Take notice! Take notice of this widow! Take notice of this father! Take notice of this good Samaritan! Take notice of the people of Mt. Zion.

Though lacking in resources, they all share an amazing faith that does not measure life in terms of abundance, but who, lacking the resources they need, somehow manage to stop complaining, and go ahead and serve the Lord.

And if you are here today, facing some great challenge in life, but without the strength, or the ability, or the love, or the forgiveness, or the hope, or the resolve to overcome it, I invite you to a new way of living. Without feeling love, go ahead and love that person, and trust God to supply your need. Without having an ounce of forgiveness within you, go ahead and forgive that person, and trust God to supply your need. Without a gleam of hope in the darkness of your loss, go ahead and plan for tomorrow, and trust God to supply your need.

Life is not about what you have. It is about who you trust.

And all around us are heroic people who prove every day that God will supply our needs, and that we can indeed "stop complainin' and start thankin' the Lord!"