A Sermon by Fr. Davenport, November 12, 2006, Year B

Pentecost XXIII, Proper 27

1 Kings, 17:8-16
Hebrews, 9:24-28
Mark, 12:38-44


+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Back in the late ‘90s when many people were riding high on the stock market, Rabbi Benjamin Blech recalls one of his son’s friends – a bright, capable, reliable young man – planned to quit his job, cash in his stocks, and become a full-time ski bum. Seduced by dreams of leisure and pleasure, the young man narrowed his vision of what to do with his life, what his purpose in life was. He wanted to renounce his responsibilities. He assumed happiness came from indulging himself. Rabbi Blech says, “Small wonder that God saw fit to send an economic flood.” In other words, his financial misfortune was a sign of God’s love for him.1

Few of us would count a significant reversal of financial fortune to be a blessing. I believe that it can be true – at least abstractly true, true when it happens to someone else, but I’m not sure that I could be grateful about it for me. I don’t want to find out. When Rabbi Blech says this, however, it has some credibility, because he experienced his own financial catastrophe.

In the ‘90s, he, too, had bought internet stock, starting with his nest egg of about $50,000. The stock did well, and he bought more. He built up his portfolio until it was worth about $7 million. During those flush days, when he looked in the mirror, he saw a very clever man. But only a year later, he was wiped out and in debt.

Even worse, he went into a deep depression. He says, “My wife would ask why I called my broker 20 times a day, and I’d say, ‘I need to know what I’m worth.’ Well, even a rabbi can confuse self-worth with net worth.” Losing his fortune, even if it was only a fortune on paper, shattered his image of himself. Embarrassed, feeling small, he had a hard time looking his wife in the eye, and he no longer saw a smiling genius in his mirror.

Most of us fret and anguish about money. We know it’s not healthy. In our hearts and minds, we know that we’re being absurd. We let money control us. It enthralls us – most of us. But perhaps not Elizabeth Taylor. After her home was burgled, she said, “I don’t cry for things that don’t cry for me.” I like that. It’s sane.

Rabbi Blech eventually stabilized, spiritually and psychologically as well as financially. The experience has left him with a better perspective. “Maybe it’s pat to say memories are more important than money, but then you see the news accounts from San Diego, of people running into burning homes [during wildfires in Southern California] . . . . They were running after photo albums, not safe deposit boxes.” Ultimately, people want evidence and relics of relationships. Pictures remind us of people and relationships; they suggest permanence and things we most value – not money.

The ultimate evidence of Rabbi Blech’s spiritual growth is his gratitude. “Finally I can stop saying, ‘Why did God do this to me,’ and again ask, ‘Why did God do this for me?’” That’s a big transformation – painful no doubt, but very healthy. It’s a great blessing to be grateful after a difficult experience.

It seems that Rabbi Blech changed radically. He became less like the scribes in today’s gospel, and more like the widow. The scribes, the religious leadership, loved honors, the regard of others. They made a big show of their piety, but they were greedy, so much so that they devoured the meager wealth of widows.

In the ancient world, widows were among the most vulnerable people in society, virtually invisible to society. If a woman had lost her husband, if a woman had no family to take her in, “she lived outside of the normal social structure.” Women rarely owned property. In ancient Israel, every female lived under the authority and protection of some male, except for a widow. She was responsible to and for herself. She was especially “susceptible to oppression, injustice, and exploitation.” 2

The Jewish Law recognized the vulnerability of widows and legislated their protection and support. But here Jesus says the scribes, the religious authorities, those most responsible for seeing to just treatment of widows, are taking advantage of them, devouring their wealth – foxes looking after hen houses. Jesus fiercely attacked the scribes. They’re hypocrites. Even when they pray, they are doing it to promote themselves. Their prayers are insincere. This isn’t true religion. Few things make Jesus so indignant.

The scribes are wolves in sheep’s clothing, giving God lip service, masquerading as holy, devout people, but robbing the poor. The insincerity and maliciousness of the scribes stands in marked contrast to the authentic piety of the widow. Jesus commends her to us as the model of what we should be. There are four things to note about the widow, four things about the way she gives.

First, she gives, but in giving she doesn’t draw attention to herself, unlike the posturing, strutting scribes. She gives anonymously, in humility, expecting no notice. She knows her gift is about her relationship with God; it’s about expressing gratitude, not trying to win praise from other people. Happiness comes from the profound satisfaction of giving – not from worldly honor. So first, she gives humbly.

Second, the widow gave generously. She gave two mites, two coins together worth a penny; mites were the least valuable coin of the day. The coins weren’t worth much, except to her. She gave all that she had. She didn’t hold back. She didn’t coldly calculate God’s portion. We hold back, timid and cautious, fearful of the effect making the gift will have on us, but she gives spontaneously and boldly. We fear risk. She risks everything. She trusts God.

Some church fathers have interpreted the two mites as symbolically representing her body and her spirit. The idea is that she is giving her entire substance, all of her being. It foreshadows Jesus gift of himself on the cross where he gives all of himself for us.

Third, Jesus gave himself on the cross for our salvation, so that we might have eternal life. Of course, we are unworthy of that gift. We have not earned it; we could not earn it. In a similar way, the widow gives her gift to an unworthy recipient – the Temple. In the two verses immediately following today’s gospel, as Jesus walks out of the Temple, one of the disciples says, “Teacher, look at these magnificent stones, this beautiful building.” Jesus responds, “There will not be left here one stone upon another, that will not be thrown down.”

Jesus knows that the Temple is coming to an end. Its worship is corrupt. He calls it a ‘den of thieves.’ Still he doesn’t try to prevent the widow from giving her whole living to this decadent institution. The worthiness of the recipient doesn’t bless her. Her blessing, her reward is the act itself. Giving is essential for our own spiritual well-being, regardless of the worthiness of the recipient. When we do that, we are imitating God, God who gives us gifts without condition, without us earning it.

Fourth, Jesus calls us to have the attitude of the widow. The rich people put in large sums, but they give with an attitude of scarcity. “This is what I can afford. This is what I’m required to do.” The widow gives with an attitude of abundance. “Here is all I have.” One attitude is tight, constricted, aloof; the other open, free, committed.

When we operate from a mind-set of scarcity, we don’t expect good things to happen. We don’t expect God to act. We don’t expect God to bless us. We don’t try great things. We don’t challenge ourselves. We limit our imaginations. We constrict faith. We draw away from God.

As usual, the way of Jesus runs counter to what the world teaches us, a world where the rich and calculating consumer is admired, a world where self-seeking ends in emptiness and sadness. Jesus says to us, “I’ll make you rich in the things that matter and abounding in joy. Give humbly. Give generously. Give without conditions for the recipient. Give expecting God to bless you.”

+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.


1. Claudia H. Deutsch, ‘Making a Fortune, Losing It and Moving On,’ The New York Times, December 7, 2003. A discussion of Rabbi Benjamin Blech book – Taking Stock: A Spiritual Guide to Life’s Financial Ups and Downs.

2. Paula S. Hiebert, article on ‘widows’ in The Oxford Companion to the Bible, Bruce M. Metzger and Michael D. Coogan, eds., OUP (1993)

© 2006 Lane John Davenport

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