Sermon Text: Mark 12:38–44
Date: November 10, 2024
Event: Proper 27, Year B
Mark 12:38–44 (EHV)
He also said to them in his teaching, “Beware of the experts in the law who like to walk around in long robes and receive greetings in the marketplaces. 39They love the best seats in the synagogues and the places of honor at banquets. 40They devour widows’ houses and offer long prayers to look good. These men will receive greater condemnation.”
41Jesus sat down opposite the offering box and was watching how the crowd put money into it. Many rich people put in large amounts. 42One poor widow came and put in two small bronze coins, worth less than a penny. 43He called his disciples together and said to them, “Amen I tell you: This poor widow put more into the offering box than all the others. 44For they all gave out of their surplus, but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all that she had to live on.”
The Sanctified Heart Trusts God
Does life ever feel chaotic? A family conflict might do that. An election might do that. A job loss, illness, struggles in school, or falling out with a friend might do that. We have so many things that we count on for stability in our homes, our government, employment and other vocations that any changes (or even threats of change) to those things can cause you to feel like you’re standing on quicksand. It feels uncertain. s
And that can be what life feels like sometimes—or always. We’re trying to guess the future. We’re trying to weather those personal or communal storms. We’re trying to figure out how to tend to our responsibilities to self, family, and neighbor. Maybe things are severe enough that you feel a strong connection with the woman in Zerphath, “As surely as the Lord your God lives, I have no food except a handful of flour in a jar and a little olive oil in a pitcher. See, I am gathering a couple of sticks so that I can go and prepare it for myself and my son, so that we can eat it and then die” (1 Kings 17:12). There is nothing left; I might as well just give up and surrender myself to the chaos and whatever that might mean for me.
And, boy, does Satan love to hear us think and talk like that. He would love nothing more than for short-term problems to separate us from God’s eternal solutions and promises. And really he doesn’t care what does it; if something divides us from God, he’s in. He delights in it. He longs for it.
This morning I suggest we take stock of our lives, our own hurts, pains, and struggles. They are different for each of us, though we are unified because we all have them. Yours are probably different than mine, and we don’t do any good trying to compare who wins the “trauma championship.” If something is difficult for you, it is difficult for you, no matter how you rank it compared to others’ difficulties. The same is true for others; just because you might view your problems as more significant by comparison doesn’t mean their heartaches and worries aren’t real and legitimate.
Jesus, in our Gospel, uses the model of the widow in the temple courts and contrasts it with the general attitude of the experts in the law to show us where our trust should be centered. Where do we find relief, confidence, and true hope in the chaos of this life? In our God who loves us.
Our Gospel is set in the middle of Holy Week. Jesus is spending these last few days of his earthly ministry with his disciples, doing a final round of teaching and preparing them for what will happen. But he’s not just with the Twelve—Jesus’ opponents are also around peppering him with questions, hoping to get him to trip up and say something they can condemn him for or at least discredit him in the eyes of the people.
And so it is in this context that Jesus begins our Gospel for this morning. He warns against the attitude and actions of the experts in the law, the scribes, who liked to garner earthly acclimation for themselves. They felt secure in their fancy clothes, friendly greetings in public, and the best seats at different gatherings. They had everything they needed, and everything went well for them.
You and I might look at other people and still insist on playing that comparison game. We see others who don’t seem to have the problems, fears, or struggles we do and we long to be like them. Might the disciples have felt that way as they looked at the influential religious leaders while Jesus seemed constantly pushed to the side? Can you imagine the widow we’ll meet later looking at those in billowy, expensive garments and longing to have a bit of the wealth and comfort that they had? I think I might be more surprised if she didn’t.
But what does Jesus say? “Beware!” Why? Because they are focused on the here and now at the expense of the eternal. This warps them so that they even see sin—devouring[ing] widows’ houses—as justified when it would get them ahead. Jesus warns, “These men will receive greater condemnation.” That’s not the position we would want to be in, so earthly comfort at all costs is not where we want to focus.
After making these statements, Jesus looked across the temple courts to the offering box where people were putting in their gifts—not unlike the plates we use here at church. And there were no envelopes or checks or electronic giving methods to mask the amounts; it was pretty clear who was giving a lot and who was giving less. So Jesus watched as wealthy people came and gave significant sums of money. But then a widow, who had nearly nothing, came and gave two small bronze coins, worth less than a penny. Money comparisons are a little bit difficult across 2,000 year gap, but Mark notes that this gift is worth less than 1/64th of an agricultural worker’s daily wage, and yet, this was everything—all that she had to live on.
Now, why is Jesus pointing this out? The point is not to give all we have to the church. About a month ago, in our Gospel, we wrestled with this when we heard the rich young ruler talking with Jesus, and Jesus directed him to give away all his wealth. Jesus was not pointing out that you need to have nothing in order to have saving faith or to get into heaven; rather, he was showing the man that money was his god and was distracting him from eternal blessings.
The point here with the widow is the inverse. Again, Jesus is not setting up a necessity to give away all she had, but he points out that her trust in God was so strong that she was able to take the minuscule amount that was to her name, entrust it to God, and then trust that God would provide for her needs. Jesus’ praise of the woman’s actions doesn’t lead us to think that this was done in a “this is the end of my life; I give up” kind of way as the widow with Elijah initially approached it. Instead, this gift was given in trust for what God would do for her.
Let’s consider the widow’s attitude toward this offering. First and foremost, she trusted God to do what he said he would. He did not promise daily bread and earthly care as long as you stockpile money. No, she trusted that he would do that regardless.
That trust in God’s promise led to the second aspect of her attitude: thankfulness. She didn’t have much, but she was thankful for what she did have. Did she have what her neighbors or leaders had? No. But she trusted God’s gracious hand and that what he provided was for her eternal good.
That trust and thankfulness to God led to another aspect of her giving—she would not make excuses. She wasn’t intimidated by the large gifts others gave or the meekness of her offering. No, she focused not on those around her but only on her relationship with God. From what he had given—not much by earthly standards—in joy, she gave to God.
All of these aspects of the window’s gift are good for us to keep in mind. God asks us to give out of what he has given. We want to be generous! That means if he has given us much, perhaps the gifts or time will be more significant. If he was given little, they may be smaller dollar or hour amounts. But this is not a comparison game when we talk about trust in God’s promises and stewardship of the things he’s given. You don’t give relative to those around you; you give relative to what God has provided. If you have fewer financial resources or less time, that doesn’t mean your gift is somehow lesser than someone who has more. Regardless of the amount, a gift given in thankfulness to God is a pleasant sacrifice to him.
That spirit of thankfulness goes well beyond the gifts we give to God in offerings, the amount of volunteering we do, or the time we set aside to help our neighbor. Because this trust in God is produced by the sanctified heart that he provides. We know that regardless of our earthly blessings, we all stand on equal footing with God. We are all sinners who deserve his eternal punishment in hell, and the blessings around us are not indicative of what God thinks about us. By nature, we are his enemies, wrapped up in an eternal war with God that we will lose.
But like the widows, both in the temple and in Zerphath, God’s promises and actions change that. What had he promised these two women, separated by nearly 900 years of history? God pledged to them both a Savior from sin to solve this spiritual war we were waging against God. The only difference was that the widow giving her offering was seen by the physical eyes of the incarnate God; in just a few days, he would be laying down his life to keep that promise and pay for the world’s sins.
And so God has forgiven your sins and mine. He sanctified our hearts, setting us apart, when the Holy Spirit worked faith in our hearts through his Word and sacraments. We believe in God's promises not because of us but because of him.
If we are looking for trust, confidence, and peace in the world around us—earthly blessings, human relationships, political policy—we are looking in the same place the experts in the law were looking. And if we do so, it’s no wonder the world and our lives feel utterly chaotic. This corrupted world, with its misguided messages, can never bring the comfort that God provides. But, if, as the children of God, we find our confidence in God’s promises and work, and trust him to do what he said, then every earthly prop can fall away, and we will still stand with confidence in God’s promises. We still look forward, completely sure that God will, in the end, wipe every tear from our eyes.
So, with the faith God gives, trust what he’s promised you. In that trust, support others in their times of difficulty, both to provide immediate relief and to help them see the fullness of the love of our God that provides in all times—be they times of trial or blessing. You, dear Christian, are forgiven. Stand in that forgiveness and trust God to do what he’s promised. Amen.
