[NB: I preached this sermon on November 9, 2014 at Starmount Presbyterian Church in Greensboro, North Carolina. It had been so long since I had been invited to preach anywhere, I couldn't remember the last time. I am, therefore, the more grateful for the encouragement, kindness and generous attention I received from the people of Starmount. The sermon text was Mark 12:41-44.]
Go to any large retail mall and
you’ll see the guys I’m thinking of. Men of a certain age who say, “Okay, honey,
you go on and shop. I think I’ll just sit right here.” And the “here” they’re
talking about is the quadrangle of sofas placed every hundred yards or so for weary spouses, fussy, footsore
children and peoplewatchers.
We all do it. Peoplewatch, that
is. Where is your favorite place to
peoplewatch? Airports, Waffle Houses, hospital lobbies and ER waiting rooms,
the precinct lines on election day, Costco. What about church? Hmm.
If you really want to engage in
some world class peoplewatching, I’ll
tell you what. Wait till it’s a communion Sunday and show up for worship at a
church where people walk forward to receive communion. There you’ll see a cross
section of the people of God in all our wondrous variety: a parade of ages and stages, healthy and
infirm, happy and sad, rich and poor, able-bodied and handicapped, well-dressed
and not so much.
If it is true that we encounter
God in the faces of our brothers and sisters – and it is – then I would like to
commend holy peoplewatching. For when I witness the deeply beautiful people God’s love is transforming you into, when I
see you making an effort with God’s help to overcome your struggles – and realize
that you have chosen to show up here
when it would have been so easy not to – especially on Consecration Sunday, for
heaven’s sake, then I am helped and encouraged. God speaks to me in you.
It was something like this Jesus
was doing when he hiked up his robe that day and sat down just opposite the
Temple treasury. The so-called treasury was the container where people on
Passover pilgrimage to Jerusalem placed their tithes and offerings. It was an
Olympic-size offering plate. The act of putting an offering into the treasury
was an important act of worship every pilgrim was expected to check off. So it
made sense for Jesus to occupy this prime real estate. This way, his
fifteen-minute break could offer a little holy peoplewatching, and no telling
who and what he would see.
Nor was he disappointed in what
he observed.
Jesus sat down opposite the treasury, and
watched the multitude putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in
large sums. And a poor widow came, and put in two copper coins, which make a
penny. And he called his disciples to him and said to them, Truly I say to you,
this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the
treasury. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her
poverty has put in everything she had.
Now the widow is clearly the heroine
of this episode. But before we get to the widow, observe something about the
other contributors. There are a lot of them, a multitude. They are rich. And
they are making very generous
contributions – large sums, Mark
says – out of their abundance.
The rich are in the majority and
they are worshipping God in an
appropriate manner by making generous contributions. I pause here because this might come as a relief to prosperous folks who
are conscientious Christians. Being blessed by God with prosperity and
giving to God generously out of that abundance is in fact the norm for the majority of the people Jesus observes. And I believe it’s the norm
for many of us here today.
You see, in making the widow a
heroine, Jesus does not make the
wealthy into bad guys, and he does not say that they should have
contributed all they had. We can take a deep breath and relax.
Now consider the widow for a
moment. And since we all get tired of calling her “the widow,” just for today let’s
agree to name her … Lois. Why does Lois
catch the peoplewatching eye of Jesus?
Well, the fact that she was
contributing at all was pretty
remarkable. The economic status of widow was down there right next to orphaned
children. Being a widow was synonymous with abject poverty. Widows were supposed to be the beneficiaries of charity, but this widow is giving, not receiving. And
not only that, she’s giving everything.
In offering up her last two coins she gives relatively more percentage-wise than the rich who are
giving out of their abundance.
Maybe she had thought about the
trip all year, making one last offering to God in Jerusalem before she got so
infirm she couldn’t travel anymore. Maybe she had come a long way to do just
this one small thing. Two coins were all she had after paying for the
journey. Two coins clinking in the plate. What love. What devotion.
God’s accounting system is
different than what they use at Ernst & Young or Deloitte and Touche. The amount of my gift – be it $1 or $1
million – is not nearly as important to my spiritual well-being as the amount of my gift in relation to my
ability to give.
Which,
believe it or not, is good news. Because
it means that anyone can stand beside
the likes of Bill Gates and Warren Buffett in heaven’s hall of generous hearts.
You
know, among the reasons people give to their church … okay, wait a minute. What are the reasons we give
to the church?
·
to worship
·
because
there’s a compelling need
·
because
someone in our past has taught us to give
·
because Scripture tells us to give
·
and because
we have a network of sustaining relationships in the church
For
many of us, the last reason may be the strongest. Look around. When you boil it
all down, what Consecration Sunday is really about is how actively our hearts are engaged with the work of God
in and through these people.
More
than a decade ago I made a pastoral call on an elderly parishioner named Teresa.
At 99 years, Teresa was easily the oldest member of my suburban Chicago
congregation. I went to see her that day to ask on behalf of the church for
money – a lot of money. We were hoping to undertake an expensive round of
preservation work on a historic building, and I was going to ask Teresa to make
the lead gift, the gift that was going to inspire others to give, a major commitment.
Teresa’s
daughter Mary Ann had told her why the pastor was calling. When I arrived we
had some tea, but quickly got past small talk. I explained what we needed to
do, how much it was going to cost and how much I wanted to ask her to consider
giving. It was a large number.
And
then there was an excruciating fifteen seconds of silence.
When
Teresa began to speak, she said, I was baptized
in this church 99 years ago. I was confirmed
in this church. I was married here. My
children and grandchildren were baptized
here and were all members of the youth
group. We held my husband’s funeral
here and his ashes are in the rose garden right outside the church door. This
church is my family. I believe what this church stands for. I love this church.
I want it to be a blessing to the people of this village for another century. And
now you ask me will I consider giving
this money? My head says be careful,
you might need that money, but my heart says
go ahead.
Yes,
I’ll consider it. I’ll do better than
that. You know, pastor, you’re in luck today. It may surprise you to know that
I have that much money, but I do. And I’ll be delighted to give what you ask. Something
lavish for the glory of God while I’m still here to give it.
Relationships. Roots. Heart.
Giving is
one of the high callings and privileges of church membership. How much is the work of God in this place, how
much is sharing the seasons of life with
these good people worth to you?
Amen.
