The Widowed Prophet

I am so very excited by the way this Narrative Lectionary is opening up things I haven’t seen before in the Bible!  I cannot believe how often I have both read and studied the Gospel of Mark, and it was only this week, when studying that it occurred to me that Jesus, after his entry into Jerusalem, methodically works his way through all of the religious leaders who were at the Temple that week of his death.  We found the first trio to be: the Chief Priests, the Scribes and the Elders.  Then Jesus moved onto the Pharisees and the Herodians; and in this morning’s text he takes on the Sadducees.  Plus, we move back around to encounter a sincere conversation with a Scribe who as Jesus says of him, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” 

Who?  Who is next?  No one!  It says…After that no one dared to ask him any question.  Does this mean that Jesus is done?  Oh no!  He goes on to have conversations with the crowds about David’s line and his standing in it and finally he has a conversation with the disciples before he leaves the temple that day.  Jesus observed a widow.  Debi Thomas shares some of her insights in this story in such a new way, that I am happy to share them with you this morning.  She says:

[i]"The Widow's Mite" is a classic Gospel story — a go-to for churches during Stewardship Season.  Who hasn't heard the moving account of the widow who slips quietly into the Temple, drops her meager offering into the treasury, and slips away?  Who hasn't squirmed when a well-meaning pastor saddles the story to its inevitable "so what?" question: "If a poor widow can give her sacrificial bit for the Lord's work, how can we — so comfortably wealthy by comparison — not give much, much more?"

I'll admit it; I've squirmed, but not because the question indicts my giving.  I've squirmed because this woman's "mite" haunts me; her story is harder-edged than I'd like to admit.  And yet something in me doesn't want her reduced to a moral, or exploited for the sake of capital campaigns and annual budgets.  I wish I knew her name.  I wish I knew for sure that her real-life fierceness exceeded the piety we've imposed on her.  I hope — I hope — she died with dignity.

Died?  Yes.  Died.  She died, probably mere days after she dropped those two coins into the Temple treasury.   In case that's a surprise, consider again what Jesus said about her as she left the Temple that day: "She out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on."

As far as I can tell from reading the Gospels, Jesus wasn't given to exaggeration.  If he says the woman gave everything she had, well, she gave everything she had.  We know she was an impoverished widow in first century Palestine, a woman living on the margins of her society.  She had no safety net.  No husband to advocate for her, no pension to draw from, no social status to hide behind.  She was vulnerable in every single way that mattered.  Two pennies short of the end. 

If I'm getting the timing right, Jesus died four days after the events in this story.  I wonder if the widow did, too.

Here's what makes me squirm: what does it mean to applaud a destitute woman who gave her last two cents to the Temple, and then slipped away to starve?  Is this really a story of selflessness, or is it a cautionary tale about naiveté?  Should we cheer or weep? 

Let's complicate the question further.  St. Mark prefaces the story of the widow with an account of Jesus blasting the religious leaders of his day for their greed, pomposity, and crass exploitation of the poor.  "Beware of the scribes," Jesus tells his followers.  "They devour widow's houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers." 

Their piety, in other words, is a sham, and the religious institution they govern is corrupt — not in any way reflective of the God the Psalmist calls a "Father of orphans and protector of widows."

Indeed, in the days leading up to the widow's last gift, Jesus offers one scathing critique after another of the economic and political exploitation he witnesses all around him.  He makes a mockery of Roman pomp and circumstance when he processes into Jerusalem on a donkey's back.  He cleanses the Temple's money-mongering with a whip. 

He refuses to answer the chief priests, scribes, and elders when they demand to know the source of his authority.  He confounds religious leaders [the Pharisees and Herodians] on taxes, indicts them with a scathing parable about a vineyard and a murdered son, defeats them [that is, the Sadducees] on the question of resurrection, and bewilders them with riddles about his Davidic ancestry.

So why on earth would he turn around and praise a woman for endangering her already endangered life to support an institution he condemns?

The simple answer is, he doesn't.  Read the story carefully; he doesn't.   Centuries of stewardship sermons notwithstanding, Jesus never commends the widow, applauds her self-sacrifice, or invites us to follow in her footsteps.  He simply notices her, and tells his disciples to notice her, too.

This is a moment in the story when I'd give anything to hear Jesus's tone of voice.  Is he heartbroken as he tells his disciples to peel their eyes away from the rich folks and glance in her direction instead?  Is he outraged?  Is he resigned?  What does it mean to him, mere seconds after he's described the Temple leaders as devourers of widows' houses, to witness just such a widow being devoured?  And worse, participating in her own devouring?

Here's a telling postlude: immediately after the widow leaves the Temple, Jesus leaves, too, and as he does, an awed disciple invites Jesus to admire the Temple's mammoth stones and impressive buildings.  Jesus' response is quick and cutting: "Not one of these stones will be left upon another; all will be thrown down."

Ouch.  I wonder if the widow is still on Jesus's mind as he predicts the destruction of the Temple.  He has just watched a trusting woman give her all to an indefensible institution, one that refuses to protect the poor.  No edifice steeped in such injustice will stand.

Back to my earlier question: should we cheer or weep in the face of this story?  Or — here's a third alternative — should we call out (as Jesus did) any form of religiosity that manipulates the vulnerable into self-harm and self-destruction?

Jesus notices the widow. He sees what everyone else is too busy, too grand, too spiritual, and too self-absorbed to see.  For me, this is the only redemptive part of the story — that Jesus's eyes are ever on the small, the insignificant, the hidden.

What did Jesus notice?  I don't know for sure, but I'll hazard some guesses.

I think he noticed the widow's courage.  I imagine it took quite a bit of courage for her to make her gift alongside the rich with their fistfuls of coins.  Even more to allow the last scraps of her security to fall out of her palms.  And more still to swallow panic, swallow desperation, swallow the entirely human desire to cling to life no matter what — and face her end with hope.

I think Jesus noticed her dignity.  Surely she had to steel herself when widowhood rendered her worthless — a person marked "expendable" even in the Temple she loved.  Surely she had to trust — in the face of all the evidence piled up around her — that her tiny gift had value in God's eyes.

And finally, I think Jesus noticed her vocation.  Whether she knew it or not, the widow's action in the Temple that day was prophetic.  She was a prophet in the sense that her costly offering amounted to a holy denunciation of injustice and corruption. Without speaking a word, she spoke God's Word in the ancient tradition of Isaiah, Elijah, Jeremiah, and other Old Testament prophets.

But she was also prophetic in the Messianic sense, because her self-sacrifice prefigured Jesus's.  Perhaps what Jesus noticed was kinship.  Her story mirroring his.  The widow gave everything she had to serve a world so broken, it killed her.  Days later, Jesus gave everything he had to redeem, restore, and renew that world.

And, he still does.  Amen

---

[i] Journey with Jesus.  By Debie Thomas. Posted 01 November 2015.  For Sunday November 8, 2015  Lectionary Readings (Revised Common Lectionary, Year B)

The Consolation of God

We begin, on this Trinity Sunday, a six week study of 2 Corinthians.  Scholars surmise that this isn’t the second, but more likely the fourth letter that Paul has written to this troubled congregation.  It appears that he has visited them between the writing of 1 Corinthians and this book, and there has been a conflict that has led to many people being hurt and disillusioned. 

Relationships have been frayed and shattered and there is woundedness that is real and tangible in this church.  Paul’s word, then, in this letter, are words that recognize the depth of the pain and the true reality as to what has transpired…and he’s not going to just “let it go” (Elsa from the movie,Frozen…sometimes you do have to face it and not just ♫let it go♫). 

Paul, and the people of this congregation, does not want this very real and present pain to be the thing that defines them going forward.  With that said…what to do? 

Paul says in this book, we hold people accountable for their actions, we name the pain, and then (and only then can) we allow God’s amazing, saving, healing grace to enter.  Then, and only then, can forward momentum happen and a new future be realized. 

All of that is background for these next six weeks.  Let’s take a look at the text for today. 

Paul starts this letter off with the shortened 1^st century greeting – it’s still filled with praise and thanksgiving; and one that names who he is, who is with him, and to whom this letter is addressed.  ‘

Then, something happens…from verse 3 to verse 7, the word “console” and all of its derivations shows up 10 times!  I invite you to turn to your neighbor for a couple of seconds and hear from each other what you think of when you hear the word “console, or consolation.”  [give about 10-15 seconds]

Would anyone like to share what they found?

In Greek, “console” word is pa•ra•ka•lein which carries with it the idea of encouragement, comfort, building and strengthening.  Pa•ra•ka•lein reminds us that as we move forward in our daily life, we both receive and give these gifts of encouragement, comfort, building and strengthening.  I believe we cannot speak these words often enough – for the rest of the world seems bent on making sure we feel inadequate, incapable, unlovable and alone.  And we know as Christians, we are not!  We belong to the Triune God…and to each other. 

Liturgically, we use this text from 2 Corinthians in the opening prayer of the Funeral Service.  It goes like this:  Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the source of all mercy and the God of all consolation, who comforts us in all our sorrows so that we can comfort others in their sorrows with the consolation we ourselves have received from God.

Funerals and memorials are an excellent time to think about encouragement, comfort, strength and building hope once again.  It can be a powerful healing time should family members feel (or be) estranged.  And, we engage in this idea of consolation each time we use the Brief Order for Confession and Forgiveness – where we ask for forgiveness from God…and (hopefully?) from each other. 

Which leads us right back to our text for today.  Paul is trying to bind up a broken community.  He reminds them that he has suffered much for the sake of the gospel, and some of that suffering is recent. 

In these last verses I have found amazing hope this week.  Paul is so often known as some kind of Super-Christian (which he was), infallible and indefatigable – which this quick run of verses shows he was not!  Paul made mistakes, he suffered failures and defeats.  Paul’s life was threatened and he was dealt some crushing blows. 

And…even when all of this horrible stuff happened to him?  Paul kept on preaching the Gospel of Jesus, who is the Christ!  He didn’t let those disappointments and defeats stop his ministry which Jesus personally gave him on that Damascus Road so many years earlier when he was stopped dead in his tracks, blinded, and given his mission. 

He was empowered by the Holy Spirit to keep on doing what God had called him to do. 

And so should we be.  Each and every one of us is called by God to do what we do – both inside these walls and even more importantly -- outside these walls, in the world that Jesus died to save!  Your jobs, your school work, your family life, your friends are all part of your vocational duty as children of God and followers of Jesus!  None of us gets a bye, and none of us gets to retire from this vocational calling that started at your baptism. 

So, on this Trinity Sunday, we can celebrate the wonderful triune God we serve!   

And we can send Callie to Beach Camp and LRCC, and Katelyn to Ireland, knowing that even though they are apart from us, they are part of us as sisters, as coworkers in the body of Christ.

We, too, can be empowered to speak about our faith, knowing that as we stumble perhaps with our words, the Holy Spirit will be there with us keeping us strong and perhaps inspiring us with just the right words to say; we can go from this place steeped and filled with God’s grace.  We can go into the world knowing the real and intimate friendship and fellowship of Jesus, our brother!

Thanks be to God for the Trinity!    

In the name of the Father and of the Son + and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

Forgiveness

This Sunday's Sermon based on 2 Corinthans 2:1-10

Forgiveness…just saying the word can conjure up all kinds of feelings in us…feelings of guilt, shame, anger, hope, relief…just to name a few.  One of the things I love most about being a Lutheran Christian is the theological understanding we have, and carry deep in our beings, about forgiveness.  We KNOW we mess up every day – we cannot make it through any 24 hour period without needing forgiveness - from someone - or from ourselves.  We understand God to be a God of infinite forgiveness and grace; who loves us unconditionally and desires for us to become the very best human beings we can be. 

In my own life, I have come to more deeply understand forgiveness as I worked through issues I had with my mother.  It’s often difficult to admit how very conflicted our relationship was…out loud.  I often envied mothers and daughters who had such a great relationship; and I studied, even as a young child, what made those relationships work so well, when mine did not.  I know now why this relationship was so hard…and I have come to realize that it had nothing to do with me personally, but had to do with my mom’s personal history as a child, and her bi-polar disorder that robbed her of her humanity in so many ways. 

I forgave her.

Forgiveness.  I remember watching the nightly news recaps as Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who chaired the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in the Republic of South Africa, sat through trials of South African whites who had committed all kinds of atrocities against South African blacks.  I had the privilege of hearing him speak of this experience at our National Youth Gathering in St. Louis.  The pain of the reality of being a black South African is beyond my scope of understanding.  But…we saw it on the news; we then boycotted products that were compliant with the apartheid system; and we prayed that the injustice would be turned into justice. 

And…it happened!  Not perfectly, certainly, but it happened.  What continued to surprise me was that there was NO retaliation, but reconciliation…and ultimately, there was forgiveness.  Here is what Archbishop Tutu said about the experience: 

To forgive is not just to be altruistic.  It is the best form of self-interest.  It is also a process that does not exclude hatred and anger.  These emotions are all part of being human.  You should never hate yourself for hating others who do terrible things: The depth of your love is shown by the extent of your anger. 

However, when I talk of forgiveness, I mean the belief that you can come out on the other side a better person.  A better person that the one being consumed by anger and hatred.  Remaining in that state locks you in a state of victimhood, making you almost dependent on the perpetrator.  If you can find it in yourself to forgive, then you are no longer chained to the perpetrator.  You can move on, and you can even help the perpetrator to become a better person, too. 

Forgiveness is NOT forgetting or walking away from accountability or condoning a hurtful act.  Forgiveness is the process of turning back and healing our lives so we can truly live.  For if we continue to hold the hurt, we give away our personal power – as the one who hurt us still has influence over us and our actions – and the person who hurt us may not even know it!  We need to rumble[i], to wrestle, to struggle with forgiveness sometimes – because it can be hard!  When we do, we then name and claim our stories; own our experiences; and in the struggle, we hopefully find clarity, wisdom and self-love.

Those of us who work a 12 Step program know the power of forgiveness when we do our first personal inventory.  Steps 8 through10 remind us of how this works:

8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.

9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong, promptly admitted it.

Forgiveness.  We, as Christians seek and find forgiveness readily from our loving and eternal God.  We experience forgiveness when we speak together or sing the words of confession and then both hear and embody the words of absolution.  We know the power of forgiveness as we speak the words of the Lord’s Prayer, and even more powerfully as we walk through the horrific death of Jesus who from the cross, asked for forgiveness from those who were killing him. 

Paul sought forgiveness from the church in Corinth for his part in the pain-filled misunderstanding that was going on.  So painful, in fact, was this issue that he chose not to visit them again.  Paul also called into account those who were hurting both him and the church there and then moved this struggling congregation into reaffirmation of their love for the one who caused the pain. 

It’s what we do.  We name it, we claim it, we ask for forgiveness for the part we played, we claim the love of God and receive forgiveness from God…and hopefully…from each other. 

Forgiveness.  It’s what we receive unconditionally from God who is love.  It’s an action that gives us back our power, our stories, our hope.  It’s available to us whenever we need it. 

Today, if there is someone from whom you need to ask forgiveness, I invite you to do so during the passing of the peace.  Should the conversation need to take longer than we have, then I hope you will make a plan to complete it together sometime this week. 

It’s all about being community – together – even as the community here fluxes and changes.  We belong to God and we belong to each other.

We are forgiven! 

In the name of the Father and of the Son + and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

---

[i] Brene Brown’s term.

The Consolation of God

Trinity Sunday is a Day to remember that we serve a Triune God - 3 in 1.  Read this sermon and see what you think.

We begin, on this Trinity Sunday, a six week study of 2 Corinthians.  Scholars surmise that this isn’t the second, but more likely the fourth letter that Paul has written to this troubled congregation.  It appears that he has visited them between the writing of 1 Corinthians and this book, and there has been a conflict that has led to many people being hurt and disillusioned. 

Relationships have been frayed and shattered and there is woundedness that is real and tangible in this church.  Paul’s word, then, in this letter, are words that recognize the depth of the pain and the true reality as to what has transpired…and he’s not going to just “let it go” (Elsa from the movie,Frozen…sometimes you do have to face it and not just ♫let it go♫). 

Paul, and the people of this congregation, does not want this very real and present pain to be the thing that defines them going forward.  With that said…what to do? 

Paul says in this book, we hold people accountable for their actions, we name the pain, and then (and only then can) we allow God’s amazing, saving, healing grace to enter.  Then, and only then, can forward momentum happen and a new future be realized. 

All of that is background for these next six weeks.  Let’s take a look at the text for today. 

Paul starts this letter off with the shortened 1^st century greeting – it’s still filled with praise and thanksgiving; and one that names who he is, who is with him, and to whom this letter is addressed.  ‘

Then, something happens…from verse 3 to verse 7, the word “console” and all of its derivations shows up 10 times!  I invite you to turn to your neighbor for a couple of seconds and hear from each other what you think of when you hear the word “console, or consolation.”  [give about 10-15 seconds]

Would anyone like to share what they found?

In Greek, “console” word is pa•ra•ka•lein which carries with it the idea of encouragement, comfort, building and strengthening.  Pa•ra•ka•lein reminds us that as we move forward in our daily life, we both receive and give these gifts of encouragement, comfort, building and strengthening.  I believe we cannot speak these words often enough – for the rest of the world seems bent on making sure we feel inadequate, incapable, unlovable and alone.  And we know as Christians, we are not!  We belong to the Triune God…and to each other. 

Liturgically, we use this text from 2 Corinthians in the opening prayer of the Funeral Service.  It goes like this:  Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the source of all mercy and the God of all consolation, who comforts us in all our sorrows so that we can comfort others in their sorrows with the consolation we ourselves have received from God.

Funerals and memorials are an excellent time to think about encouragement, comfort, strength and building hope once again.  It can be a powerful healing time should family members feel (or be) estranged.  And, we engage in this idea of consolation each time we use the Brief Order for Confession and Forgiveness – where we ask for forgiveness from God…and (hopefully?) from each other. 

Which leads us right back to our text for today.  Paul is trying to bind up a broken community.  He reminds them that he has suffered much for the sake of the gospel, and some of that suffering is recent. 

In these last verses I have found amazing hope this week.  Paul is so often known as some kind of Super-Christian (which he was), infallible and indefatigable – which this quick run of verses shows he was not!  Paul made mistakes, he suffered failures and defeats.  Paul’s life was threatened and he was dealt some crushing blows. 

And…even when all of this horrible stuff happened to him?  Paul kept on preaching the Gospel of Jesus, who is the Christ!  He didn’t let those disappointments and defeats stop his ministry which Jesus personally gave him on that Damascus Road so many years earlier when he was stopped dead in his tracks, blinded, and given his mission. 

He was empowered by the Holy Spirit to keep on doing what God had called him to do. 

And so should we be.  Each and every one of us is called by God to do what we do – both inside these walls and even more importantly -- outside these walls, in the world that Jesus died to save!  Your jobs, your school work, your family life, your friends are all part of your vocational duty as children of God and followers of Jesus!  None of us gets a bye, and none of us gets to retire from this vocational calling that started at your baptism. 

So, on this Trinity Sunday, we can celebrate the wonderful triune God we serve!   

And we can send Callie to Beach Camp and LRCC, and Katelyn to Ireland, knowing that even though they are apart from us, they are part of us as sisters, as coworkers in the body of Christ.

We, too, can be empowered to speak about our faith, knowing that as we stumble perhaps with our words, the Holy Spirit will be there with us keeping us strong and perhaps inspiring us with just the right words to say; we can go from this place steeped and filled with God’s grace.  We can go into the world knowing the real and intimate friendship and fellowship of Jesus, our brother!

Thanks be to God for the Trinity!    

In the name of the Father and of the Son + and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen