One Penny at a Time
November 8, 2009
Psalm 42; Mark 12:38-44
Who are you in this story from Mark?
Put yourself in the scene: another hot, dusty day in the marketplace at the Temple. All kinds of goods changing hands amidst the hum of voices and animals; the wail of beggars, the cries of children, the shouts of vendors, the prayers of the pious.
Think about the characters who people this parable: the scribes with their long prayers; the destitute widows; the crowd paying their dues; the rich with their impressive contributions; the widow with her penny; the disciples listening to the lesson; Jesus teaching.
Who are you? With whom do you identify?
One baseline lesson of New Testament interpretation is this: we are never Jesus, though it is always the great temptation of interpretation to cast ourselves in the leading role – in this case, the good teacher who not only observes the scene with a keen and discerning eye, but describes its most crucial elements: an economic system that enriches the few at the expense of the poorest and most vulnerable, and the self-righteousness of those who have been enriched by that same system.
If we can’t be Jesus, then we’d probably like to be the poor widow, giving her pittance, putting in her all and holding nothing back. But honesty, and a cursory look at the check-book ledger or credit card bill, compels me to acknowledge the simple truth that I have not given my all in contributing to the church or other good causes out of my overwhelming abundance much less out of any imagined poverty.
Personally, I recognize quickly the risk in this story of confronting myself in the scribes. I’ve certainly been guilty of saying the long prayers, walking around in the long robes, and enjoying the seating privileges that accrue to the clergy from time to time in certain settings even in this day and age.
But I’d like to hope that I might be a disciple in this story – listening and learning and being challenged in faith by the witness of the least of these.
For surely that is the first step of the disciple: being willing to stop in the midst of the marketplace, listen to an alternative story, and embrace its challenge to the ways things are.
Honestly, the way things are is, well, not so hot. I would say, “pick up the Post,” but that’s too old-school. So get your news from whatever source, with whatever spin it comes packaged in, and none of it is good. We wage wars without end in sight. More than one in ten of us is out of work. More than 50 million of us have no health care insurance and our elected leaders have failed to fix that after a century of talking about it. If your name is Goldman or Sachs you can get a bailout – you can even get a swine flu vaccine while the rest of us wait for doses to be available to the hoi polloi. It’s true – Goldman Sachs and Citigroup got vaccines for their employees last week.
The way things are stinks.
But the first step of the disciple is to stop in the midst of misery and listen to an alternative story: the story of good news, of healing and wholeness and hope. This is the story that Jesus tells.
The first step of the disciple, then, is really no step at all.
Stop. Be still. Set aside the overwhelming and oppressive bad news – the nonstop narrative of despair and desperation that dominates our days.
Not in some Pollyanna, cumbayah moment of willed ignorance or apathy, but in a willing openness to the gospel story and its compelling vision of a future otherwise. Not in some quiescent way of inaction, but as part of a living community that shows forth an authentic way of living together – even and especially in our difference and disagreement – that brings forth life instead of death. Be still. Just as Jesus was still, listening in prayer for the voice of the Holy One, the divine presence that filled his very being with kingdom values and visions.
Those values and visions are inherently political – but in an expansive way that is not reducible to party or policy. In other words, as we consider the challenges of this moment, whether we come from left or right we must confess that the gospel does not proscribe any particular version of health care reform or one particular system of health care. Neither does it lay out an energy policy for the 21st century. The gospel does not describe or proscribe a particular criminal justice system or authorize one police or defense strategy or tactic over others. The gospel does not call forth a particular economic system or a foreign policy.
Anyone who tries to convince us otherwise is either a poor reader of the gospel or a snake-oil salesman.
The gospel of Jesus Christ is not a rule book. The gospel does not demand a certain, perfectly orthodox and correct set of beliefs; rather the gospel of Jesus Christ invites us into a way of living together.
The gospel of Jesus Christ is not a dress code. But it is not a dress rehearsal either.
The gospel of Jesus Christ calls us to live – right here and right now in our time, this time – and to take notice of the world around us. We are called to notice that the way things are does stink, and that gospel values are being violated. We are also called to proclaim that this is not the end of the story.
Jesus stops in the midst of the marketplace – the center of the city, the heart of the polis, the place of political power – and says, “this is not right; the tables should be turned, there is another way for the kingdom is among you.”
And, in another passage, engaging in an act of public political theater, he does just that – turns the tables over and suggests that any economic system that enriches the few at the expense of the many is antithetical to gospel values that lift up each life as beloved and worthy of the honor he bestows upon the widow offering her final coins.
Gospel values inform economic decisions and systems.
Jesus teaches his disciples that the great economy of the kingdom of God values every life – from the lilies of the field and the birds of the air to the widow with her mite to give and even the rich young man who is unwilling to give it all away to follow Jesus, who loves him still.
Gospel values do inform not only economic decisions and policies, but also environmental ones as well.
And when the powers that be crack down on Jesus’ kingdom movement and come armed to arrest him, his followers want to respond in kind, but Jesus, even as he practices reparative healing and justice in restoring the injured imperial guard, says to his disciples, “enough of that; put away your swords.” The way of Jesus is a way of nonviolence. Violence violates gospel values; systemic violence does so systematically as the news from last week underscored tragically.
When the powers and principalities hang Jesus on a cross to die with common criminals, he does not speak a word of condemnation to the condemned men but rather words of comfort including these: “today you will be with me in paradise.” The gospel calls forth uncommon mercy and radical forgiveness.
But the story does not end on the cross or in the tomb, with death and defeat, but continues in resurrected hope and new life.
These are gospel values that give life to the vision of a future otherwise, and that inform the way we live in the present moment even as we work and pray for the coming of the kingdom. The least of these are valued and have gifts to offer. The economy based on kingdom values will account for that in its every expression.
The community grounded in gospel values will practice healing and no one will be excluded from that healing – not even those, like the imperial guard, who might seem to be enemies.
The community grounded in gospel values will practice nonviolence – it will live nonviolently in every aspect of its life from the deeply personal and intimate relationships to the broad social and economic networks at the highest and largest levels – even at risk to security – personal or national security.
The community grounded in gospel values will practice forgiveness and mercy – again, on deeply personal levels and systemically as well.
The community grounded in gospel values will be a resurrection community, open at every turn to renewal and new life.
Resurrection is essential for such a community for it arises from a culture addicted to death.
Jesus understood this. Even as he leaves the temple square having suggested all of this in his teaching, one of his disciples points to the great temple and says, “look at these great buildings and beautiful building blocks and stones.”
And Jesus says, “this entire edifice – the whole kit-n-caboodle, the system itself – will tumble and fall until not a stone is left on stone.”
And then, Jesus says, we will build the resurrection community.
So here we stand, called to look squarely and honestly at a culture of death and announce its end. Here we stand, called to proclaim gospel values of love and justice. Here we stand, called to build a new community rooted and grounded in the love and justice of Jesus Christ.
To begin with, then, we are called to offer up our two small coins – what we have to live on, for this – this community of Christ – is what we have to live for. We are building the beloved community – one penny at a time. Amen.
Psalm 42; Mark 12:38-44
Who are you in this story from Mark?
Put yourself in the scene: another hot, dusty day in the marketplace at the Temple. All kinds of goods changing hands amidst the hum of voices and animals; the wail of beggars, the cries of children, the shouts of vendors, the prayers of the pious.
Think about the characters who people this parable: the scribes with their long prayers; the destitute widows; the crowd paying their dues; the rich with their impressive contributions; the widow with her penny; the disciples listening to the lesson; Jesus teaching.
Who are you? With whom do you identify?
One baseline lesson of New Testament interpretation is this: we are never Jesus, though it is always the great temptation of interpretation to cast ourselves in the leading role – in this case, the good teacher who not only observes the scene with a keen and discerning eye, but describes its most crucial elements: an economic system that enriches the few at the expense of the poorest and most vulnerable, and the self-righteousness of those who have been enriched by that same system.
If we can’t be Jesus, then we’d probably like to be the poor widow, giving her pittance, putting in her all and holding nothing back. But honesty, and a cursory look at the check-book ledger or credit card bill, compels me to acknowledge the simple truth that I have not given my all in contributing to the church or other good causes out of my overwhelming abundance much less out of any imagined poverty.
Personally, I recognize quickly the risk in this story of confronting myself in the scribes. I’ve certainly been guilty of saying the long prayers, walking around in the long robes, and enjoying the seating privileges that accrue to the clergy from time to time in certain settings even in this day and age.
But I’d like to hope that I might be a disciple in this story – listening and learning and being challenged in faith by the witness of the least of these.
For surely that is the first step of the disciple: being willing to stop in the midst of the marketplace, listen to an alternative story, and embrace its challenge to the ways things are.
Honestly, the way things are is, well, not so hot. I would say, “pick up the Post,” but that’s too old-school. So get your news from whatever source, with whatever spin it comes packaged in, and none of it is good. We wage wars without end in sight. More than one in ten of us is out of work. More than 50 million of us have no health care insurance and our elected leaders have failed to fix that after a century of talking about it. If your name is Goldman or Sachs you can get a bailout – you can even get a swine flu vaccine while the rest of us wait for doses to be available to the hoi polloi. It’s true – Goldman Sachs and Citigroup got vaccines for their employees last week.
The way things are stinks.
But the first step of the disciple is to stop in the midst of misery and listen to an alternative story: the story of good news, of healing and wholeness and hope. This is the story that Jesus tells.
The first step of the disciple, then, is really no step at all.
Stop. Be still. Set aside the overwhelming and oppressive bad news – the nonstop narrative of despair and desperation that dominates our days.
Not in some Pollyanna, cumbayah moment of willed ignorance or apathy, but in a willing openness to the gospel story and its compelling vision of a future otherwise. Not in some quiescent way of inaction, but as part of a living community that shows forth an authentic way of living together – even and especially in our difference and disagreement – that brings forth life instead of death. Be still. Just as Jesus was still, listening in prayer for the voice of the Holy One, the divine presence that filled his very being with kingdom values and visions.
Those values and visions are inherently political – but in an expansive way that is not reducible to party or policy. In other words, as we consider the challenges of this moment, whether we come from left or right we must confess that the gospel does not proscribe any particular version of health care reform or one particular system of health care. Neither does it lay out an energy policy for the 21st century. The gospel does not describe or proscribe a particular criminal justice system or authorize one police or defense strategy or tactic over others. The gospel does not call forth a particular economic system or a foreign policy.
Anyone who tries to convince us otherwise is either a poor reader of the gospel or a snake-oil salesman.
The gospel of Jesus Christ is not a rule book. The gospel does not demand a certain, perfectly orthodox and correct set of beliefs; rather the gospel of Jesus Christ invites us into a way of living together.
The gospel of Jesus Christ is not a dress code. But it is not a dress rehearsal either.
The gospel of Jesus Christ calls us to live – right here and right now in our time, this time – and to take notice of the world around us. We are called to notice that the way things are does stink, and that gospel values are being violated. We are also called to proclaim that this is not the end of the story.
Jesus stops in the midst of the marketplace – the center of the city, the heart of the polis, the place of political power – and says, “this is not right; the tables should be turned, there is another way for the kingdom is among you.”
And, in another passage, engaging in an act of public political theater, he does just that – turns the tables over and suggests that any economic system that enriches the few at the expense of the many is antithetical to gospel values that lift up each life as beloved and worthy of the honor he bestows upon the widow offering her final coins.
Gospel values inform economic decisions and systems.
Jesus teaches his disciples that the great economy of the kingdom of God values every life – from the lilies of the field and the birds of the air to the widow with her mite to give and even the rich young man who is unwilling to give it all away to follow Jesus, who loves him still.
Gospel values do inform not only economic decisions and policies, but also environmental ones as well.
And when the powers that be crack down on Jesus’ kingdom movement and come armed to arrest him, his followers want to respond in kind, but Jesus, even as he practices reparative healing and justice in restoring the injured imperial guard, says to his disciples, “enough of that; put away your swords.” The way of Jesus is a way of nonviolence. Violence violates gospel values; systemic violence does so systematically as the news from last week underscored tragically.
When the powers and principalities hang Jesus on a cross to die with common criminals, he does not speak a word of condemnation to the condemned men but rather words of comfort including these: “today you will be with me in paradise.” The gospel calls forth uncommon mercy and radical forgiveness.
But the story does not end on the cross or in the tomb, with death and defeat, but continues in resurrected hope and new life.
These are gospel values that give life to the vision of a future otherwise, and that inform the way we live in the present moment even as we work and pray for the coming of the kingdom. The least of these are valued and have gifts to offer. The economy based on kingdom values will account for that in its every expression.
The community grounded in gospel values will practice healing and no one will be excluded from that healing – not even those, like the imperial guard, who might seem to be enemies.
The community grounded in gospel values will practice nonviolence – it will live nonviolently in every aspect of its life from the deeply personal and intimate relationships to the broad social and economic networks at the highest and largest levels – even at risk to security – personal or national security.
The community grounded in gospel values will practice forgiveness and mercy – again, on deeply personal levels and systemically as well.
The community grounded in gospel values will be a resurrection community, open at every turn to renewal and new life.
Resurrection is essential for such a community for it arises from a culture addicted to death.
Jesus understood this. Even as he leaves the temple square having suggested all of this in his teaching, one of his disciples points to the great temple and says, “look at these great buildings and beautiful building blocks and stones.”
And Jesus says, “this entire edifice – the whole kit-n-caboodle, the system itself – will tumble and fall until not a stone is left on stone.”
And then, Jesus says, we will build the resurrection community.
So here we stand, called to look squarely and honestly at a culture of death and announce its end. Here we stand, called to proclaim gospel values of love and justice. Here we stand, called to build a new community rooted and grounded in the love and justice of Jesus Christ.
To begin with, then, we are called to offer up our two small coins – what we have to live on, for this – this community of Christ – is what we have to live for. We are building the beloved community – one penny at a time. Amen.
posted by David Ensign at
1:54 PM
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