"The Widow's Might"

Mark 12: 38-44

We have been studying some stories from the Gospel of Mark these past many Sundays that confront us with images of the Kingdom of God that are totally unlike anything we might expect. When I was a kid, one of my favorite movies was "Its A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World", starring Jack Lemmon and a host of others. I'm not sure if I put enough "mads" there, but this movie was a humorous study in how truly whacky and unexpected life can be. And, in a sense, the Gospelwriter Mark invites us to take a look at a divine Kingdom that is unlike anything we might anticipate. Here, the last become first, those who are great are required to become the servants of all, and the most unlikely people turn out to be Christ in disguise. It's a mad, mad, mad, mad Gospel, this Gospel of Jesus Christ recorded in Mark!

And in these stories in Mark, one of the interesting techniques Jesus uses to make his point is the ancient equivalent of today's instant photograph.

You may know that one of the technological tools of modern football is the instant picture. A camera located high in the stands snaps a photograph just before a play is run, and then sends it to a printer on the sidelines. An assistant tears the picture off the roll and passes it to either the offensive or defensive coaches who are then able to see the kind of alignment the other team is using. Over the course of a game, these instant pictures tell quite a story of what players are in what positions when.

And here in these chapters of Mark's Gospel, the Lord uses a similar technology. In a very real sense, Jesus is handing both the disciples and us an instant snapshot of real-life encounters and is asking us the question, "Where is Christ in this picture?"

Today's photograph is snapped at the Temple in Jerusalem, just as people are making their offerings.

You may notice in this picture that there are differences between the way we take offerings today and the way they took offerings then. Instead of receiving the offering in the Temple during the service, the offering was taken outside. There were strategically placed around the Temple courtyards a number of shofer chests. These were uniquely designed, with a wide bell like on a tuba at the top. This tapered down into a narrower tube that led to a box where the collections were safely kept.

But just as there are differences between today's church offerings and offerings back then, there are similarities too. If you've ever been to a church where the plate is passed several times during the service - once for the regular offering - again for the building fund - again for the electric bill - again for the regular offering because the first one wasn't enough - you'll appreciate the fact that there were no fewer than thirteen shofers scattered about, each one for a different part of the Temple's annual budget.

I hope you'll also notice in this photograph that there are all sorts of people milling about the Temple court. Some traditions have it that people would loudly announce the amount of money they were placing into the shofer, and then drop their coins in. In this particular picture, you may note that there many rich people there that day. If we had an audio recording to go along with our photograph, we would hear something that sounded like a Las Vegas slot machine paying off a jackpot as the coins rattle their way through the metal tube to the chest below.

And one more thing in this photograph: an almost unnoticeable figure, virtually lost in the shadows cast by the crushing crowd of people. It appears to be a woman, and she stretches out a thin, wrinkled arm. She is obviously poor. From her dress we know she is a widow. In her hand are two tiny coins - together making barely a penny - probably everything she owns. Quietly and without announcement, she drops her widow's mite into the shofer.

And Jesus freezes the frame for his disciples - and us - and asks, "Where is Christ in this picture?"

Is the hidden Christ one of the Temple priests in long, flowing robes, offering beautiful chanting prayer? Is he that doctor of the Law, or that patron of the arts, or that keen intellectual, or that wealthy landowner whose wonderful generosity makes the shofer chests sing loudly for joy?

Why, its the widow, Jesus says!

Nothing wrong with the others, mind you. They are good people. Generous people.

But this widow is a spectacular illustration of what faith is all about.

Jesus says, "All these others gave out of their abundance. But this little woman has given out of her poverty."

And when you take this photograph and lay it beside all the others Jesus has shown us, you may notice that this is not really a lesson about money, but rather a lesson about life.

May I ask you today, how do you give yourself away? Do you give out of your abundance, which is the most common form of giving? Or have you learned to give out of your poverty, like the widow did?

A woman by the name of Linda Teeple, writing in the current edition of Spirit magazine offers some refreshing insight:

I think Linda Teeple is right on track. You see, the essence of walking with God is not about easily strolling down a road with which you're already comfortable and familiar, but about testing new trails you've never been on before! Walking with God is not so much about loving the people you already love, but about learning to love those you can't, don't, won't or find it virtually impossible TO love. Walking with God is not about your strengths, your gifts, your skills, your abilities, but rather it is about your weaknesses, your inabilities, and even your flaws - and offering them as gifts to God.

In the places of our poverty, God often leads us to the greatest treasures of all!

I like the story about the crow who happened upon a field of corn. He would sit up in the tree and stare down at the tall stalks. It was the most scrumptious corn he had ever seen and he was so hungry. But there right in the middle of the field was the scariest scarecrow he had ever seen. He shuddered every time he looked at it until one day, out of hunger and a burst of courage, he swooped down near the field, keeping his eye on the scarecrow. It didn't move. So the crow landed on a stalk of corn, his eyes still fastened on the scary figure, who somehow didn't seem quite so scary anymore. And the crow began to eat. Day after day he came to that field, eating corn right in the shadow of the scarecrow. Indeed, it was the BEST corn he ever tasted. He went back to his crow friends and led them to that field, though it took some convincing on his part to get them there. But soon they too were enjoying the corn. And from that day on, those crows always looked for the fields with the scariest scarecrows, for they knew that there they would find the best corn.

What Jesus is teaching us through this wonderful widow is that best of life is not really found in our strengths and our comfort zones. Rather, the best of life is found when we let God into the fearful and uncomfortable places of our lives. And of all the places we fear the most, our poverty - our sense of inadequacy and insufficiency - is probably the greatest.

Where are the places in your life that you find yourself muttering words like these?

For some of us, advancing age can make us wonder if its too late to change our lives, or to serve God and humanity in significant ways. How often we joke about our senior moments here in Tellico Village, and rue the things that don't work quite as well as they used to. You may have heard about what happened to Bob Puckett. Bob was hiking up in the mountains the other day when, from the side of the trail, he heard a tiny voice calling, "Help me! Help me!" Well, Bob looked down and was surprised to see a little green frog. "Did you say something little frog?" Bob asked. "Help me! Help me!" the amphibian squeaked.

"Well, how can I help you, little frog?" asked Bob who, as you know is a very kind and compassionate soul. The little frog answered, "Kiss me! You see, I am really a beautiful princess who has been turned into a frog. If you kiss me, I'll become a beautiful princess once again. And then," the frog said, batting its little eyelids, "then you can kiss me as much as you want!"

Well, Bob took the little frog, gently tucked it into his side pocket and resumed his hike. But a short while later, the frog's voice piped again, "Hey! Hey!"

Bob reached into his pocket and retrieved the little green frog. "What is it, frog?" Bob asked.

And Bob answered, "Frankly, at my age, I'd rather have a talkin' frog!"

Oh yes, age can affect our faculties and our facilities, and make us question our ability to do a lot of things. And yet, even a seventieth or eightieth or ninetieth or a hundredth birthday offered to God can open up wonderful doors. Why, look at Bob Puckett in real life, visiting you in your homes and welcoming you to our church; or Carl Burke at the brink of eighty, serving as channel of God's love as a hospice chaplain; or retired fellow villager Bud Burger responding to a vision to help at-risk kids by starting up a Chestnut Ridge Learning Center.

Difficult life circumstances can also make us feel spiritually inadequate. When you're caring for a terminally ill family member, when you're facing a terrible illness yourself, when life hands you tragic losses and you're at the end of your strength, and your wits, and even your faith, people sometimes make you feel like you should be stronger, more mentally tough, more believing. But Jesus wants you to know that you can give him your weakness, your exhaustion, and even your doubt. And somehow, in giving out of your poverty, God is able to do wonderful things in your life and the lives of those you care for.

You see, the widow's mite - "m-i-t-e" - turned out to be the very source of the widow's might - "m-i-g-h-t"!

And Jesus gives us this extraordinary photograph to take home with us today and to ponder. Its a picture of how much God loves us! And how the little we have is more than enough when we give it to Jesus.