|
Pentecost XXIII, Proper 27(B)
November 8, 2009 Ruth 3:1-5; 4:13-17; Psalm 127; Hebrews 9:24-28; Mark 12:38-44 Let us pray. Holy and gracious God, with thankful and glad hearts we offer our tithes and offerings to you. Thank you for the privilege of participating in your kingdom, of spreading the good news, of taking care of the “least of these.” We pray that you use these gifts, and us, for your purposes and will in our world. For Christ’s sake we pray. Amen. With Christmas looming in the not too distant future, many of us are already thinking about what we’ll buy for friends and family. And when you don’t know what to get that relative that you may only see every 10 years, one of the best options in today’s world is the ubiquitous gift card. Drop one of those in a Christmas card, and you’re done. It’s one of the easiest ways ever devised to keep our obligation of giving. The clever folk in the town of Great Barrington, Massachusetts, using the gift-card concept without the plastic, has developed its own kind of currency. The “BerkShare” (a wordplay on the Berkshires region) looks a lot like Monopoly money. For every 95 cents, local residents get one dollar’s worth of BerkShares they can use to buy goods and services from one of 400 participating businesses in the area. BerkShares aren’t legal tender anywhere outside Great Barrington. “Local currency helps to keep the money flowing between friends and neighbors, local businesses, which helps everybody to have a better life,” says Asa Hardcastle, president of BerkShares Inc. Matt Rubiner, the owner of Rubiner’s Cheesemongers & Grocers in Great Barrington, agrees. He writes, “Philosophically, it’s very much along the lines of the foundations that we set up our store under: supporting local, sustainable producers, keeping the community local wherever possible. So when the BerkShares came along, that was right up our alley. We really embraced it.” Even the firm that designs and prints the BerkShare currency is a local operation. BerkShares feature pictures of local artists, heroes and historical figures and come with individual serial numbers that make them difficult to counterfeit. One local resident reports that she “…think(s) it’s nice to have a constant little reminder that we’re a community and we’re in it together.” “It’s kind of like a Great Barrington pride moment. I’m a citizen of Great Barrington. Here’s my BerkShare.” This is not something new that the people of Great Barrington have done in their currency creation. From Detroit to North Carolina to upstate New York, at least 12 other communities are trying to encourage people to buy and spend locally by printing up their own greenbacks (or pink-backs, or mauve-backs or whatever color their Monopoly-inspired money is). It turns out that a similar kind of currency kaleidoscope characterized the economy of first-century Israel, the setting of this week’s Gospel text. A closer look at Mark 12 gives us a glimpse into the different coinage that circulated around the temple. In verses 13-17, we read the famous “render unto Caesar” passage, in which Jesus has the Herodians and Pharisees produce coins from their pockets with the likeness of the Roman Emperor Tiberius stamped on them. The coin in question, a silver denarius, was worth about a day’s wage, so it was no small change. Imperial coinage was circulated throughout the empire both to standardize trade between Rome and its various conquered territories and to promote the current emperor’s reputation and divinity. Around the likeness of Tiberius on the coin was the inscription “Augustus Tiberius, Son of the Divine Augustus,” while the flip side displayed the likeness of a female figure representing “peace” (but often associated with Tiberius’ mother, Livia). To righteous Jews, such inscriptions were idolatrous, which makes it very interesting (as well as religiously scandalous) that one of the Jewish leaders confronting Jesus had one in the first place. To avoid those idolatrous images, most first-century Jews continued to use the local Jewish currency, some of which had been in circulation since the Hasmonean dynasty 100 years earlier. The most basic coin of this period was the bronze or copper lepton (plural lepta), which avoided violating the second commandment by inscribing natural or man-made symbols instead of human or animal likenesses. At the time of Jesus, a very common lepton in circulation was the one minted by Alexander Jannaeus (who ruled from about 103 to 76 B.C.). It often featured an eight-rayed star or sunburst on one side and an anchor on the other. It was likely this coin that the money changers exchanged for Roman currency in the temple (Mark 11:15). The lepton’s monetary value was pretty small at the time – so small, in fact, that it may be one of the least-valued coins ever struck. If you look at one, you notice right away that it looks like the image was just stamped haphazardly in a tiny dribble of molten copper or bronze – like what happens when a child stamps something in a piece of Play-Doh and leaves the edges untrimmed. The coins aren’t rounded or finished and weigh next to nothing, making a U.S. penny feel like a British pound coin by comparison. Truth be told, a lepton looks like the kind of currency anyone could make in your home hobby shop. It was very likely two of these tiny lepta, or “mites,” that the widow dropped into the temple treasury in this week’s text. Compared to the wealth of Roman coins that the religious leaders and other rich people seemed to be carrying around the temple, those two rough-stamped coins were just about as valuable as Monopoly money. And yet, this isn’t a story about the value of coins but rather about the value of loyalty, commitment and sacrificial giving. BerkShares are about a community taking care of its own, keeping the wealth within the community for the benefit of the whole. In Mark 12:38-40, Jesus condemns the community leaders of first-century Israel for doing exactly the opposite. The “long robes” of the scribes and their VIP seating arrangements at local parties are indications that they’re more concerned with themselves than their community. Moreover, they “devour widows’ houses,” which was a way of saying they preyed on perhaps the weakest and most vulnerable segment of society. Widows who lacked male relatives had no status and no prospects for income, except for, as was often the case, prostitution. Some commentators have suggested that the scribes may have acted as guardians for some of these widows, but they did so by exploiting for themselves the property that the women’s husbands may have left them. So much for following the Torah law against abusing widows (Exodus 22:22-24). So when Jesus makes his remark about this poor widow dropping her two tiny coins in the temple treasury, “all she had to live on” (Mark 12:44), the context suggests that Jesus is continuing his condemnation of the religious leaders and the system of economic exploitation that would cause her to donate her last two pennies. While many, myself included, have preached this text as a stewardship sermon, imagining Jesus smiling at the woman’s generous sacrifice, it seems much more likely that he was probably shaking his head in sorrow as he said it. At the same time, though, the text gives no indication that the widow is being forced to give up those lepta. In fact, we don’t know anything about her motivation other than she just dropped them in. Jesus recognized that her offering, even though it was less than a pittance monetarily, was far more valuable than the sum total of all the other coins offered up that day. The text forces us to ask: What would cause a person to voluntarily give away her last two pennies, especially to a community and a political-economic system that continues to exploit her? Perhaps it is because the widow still believed. Maybe she still believed that regardless of all that had happened to her, everything that she was and everything that she had still belonged to God. Despite the corruption and exploitation going on in God’s name there in the temple, somehow God was still going to set things right. So the widow continued to invest in her community, a community of faith, by giving her last two coins for the good of the whole. Let’s call them her MiteShares. The widow’s might (m-i-g-h-t) is demonstrated in the strength of her faith. She isn’t just dabbling in spare change. She is, to borrow a poker term, “all in” with God, unlike the scribes and others. For example, the rich young man whom Jesus encountered earlier couldn’t give up the belief that his possessions were his to keep (Mark 10:17-31). So. I would ask all of us during the coming weeks prior to our Ingathering Sunday two weeks from today, to think about how much we have invested in our community of faith. It is so very easy for people to look at how governments and some religious institutions have mismanaged their stewardship, either real or imagined, and then say to themselves “I’m going to hold back giving my money.” Or to ask the question in response to our diocesan assessment, “But what do we get in return for our money?” As the Cape and Islands Deanery clergy representative to Diocesan Council, and having just returned yesterday from Diocesan Convention, I can give you a lengthy litany of what we get in return for that lepta-like investment. From the great work of The Episcopal Church, to Diocesan companion mission work throughout the world in a vast array and variety of works, to right here in our own Diocese, working in the inner city, founding Hispanic missions and supporting indigenous Chinese and African ministries, which are not and may not ever be self-sustaining. To college chaplaincies, veteran’s ministries, working with the elderly and the work of Episcopal City Missions, not to mention a vast array of consultants and mediators that are available to us if and when the need arises. I know and believe with all my heart that we get back much more than we can ever imagine for that meager investment. So please. If you feel the need to ask that question, look once again at our Baptismal Covenant. It is intertwined in a knot of Gordian proportions. And there is a direct relationship to our widow in today’s lesson. This poor woman who out of her poverty gave everything that she had got it right…she realized that in her poverty, what little she did possess did not in reality belong to her at all, but was in fact a gift from God. Her sacrifice and the leap of faith that had to have preceded it are exemplified by the fact that she gave everything she had out of her poverty. Can you imagine that kind of faith? This poor woman’s gift was made from a theological perspective of joy and abundance, rather than out of a theology of guilt and scarcity. The lesson for us is that there are people who are poor, who cannot give thousands of dollars a year, but who never-the-less give sacrificially to support the Church. There is a natural tendency for us to “ooh” and “ah” over the multi-million dollar contributions of something like the Gates Foundation, for example, to charitable works, and view those gifts as somehow superior to our own. Don’t get me wrong; the Gates Foundation has enabled some wonderful works of philanthropy. And it really does seem significant until you realize that what the Gates Foundation gives away is in actuality less than 1% of Mr. Gates’ monthly income. The poor widow in our story gave absolutely everything she had: 100%. I don’t know about you, but I sometimes feel guilty about what I have when I am with those who have less than I do…and I am inclined to be envious of those who have a lot more. What this has meant for me in the past is that there is always a barrier to jump in order to be present in a priestly way when I am with someone, rich or poor.” (Networking Newsletter of The Episcopal Network for Stewardship) For many of us, we are exposed to so much Scripture, countless times of prayer and Eucharists without end it seems. It makes us resistant to being moved by God’s presence. It is my belief that one of the primary ways that God enters my heart is through money: Not the money that I get, but the money that I give. It is no accident that Jesus said, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” When we put 10% or 15% of our income back into God’s hands, at least that much of our heart follows. And something else happens; the meaning of money changes. It is no longer a way of keeping score, but a way of opening our hearts to the needs of others and the love of God. Sadly many people will try to use their gifts and the promise of gifts to manipulate others, to impose their personal will and beliefs upon groups of people, or during the last few years in particular, the entire church. Some of the seemingly endless threat of schism over the consecration of Bishop Gene Robinson and the blessing of same sex relationships have been the public pronouncements of those who are threatening to withhold money from their parishes, their diocese (to “punish” their bishop) or the national church. Or they are including a note with their check stating to the effect “Not a penny of my money is to go to the diocese or the national church. Period.” Thankfully no member of Grace would ever do this. The problem with this approach is that when someone designates donations against this or that entity, there is always collateral damage. It is like bombing a Taliban stronghold in Afghanistan: you hit a lot of things that you did not intend to destroy. You really didn’t mean to have the diocese eliminate the funding for our mission work with people with AIDS in Africa or the hurricane victims in the gulf coast. It wasn’t your intention to force your bishop to downsize the diocesan youth ministry staff. You just wanted to register your vote by sending a message. (Adapted from Barbara Crafton, Geranium Farm). The widow in our Gospel lesson for this morning was not sending a message. She was fresh out of messages. She is a figure of pure need in this ancient story – in scripture, there are none with greater needs than a widow or an orphan. Voting is voting. Giving is giving. Giving is NOT sending a message. To send a message you use the telephone, write a letter or send an email. (Grafton) A gift you just give. And when you give a gift, you take your hands off of it or it is not a gift at all. When you give a gift, you take your hands off of it or it is not a gift at all. In the end, your personal stewardship is a gift back to God from the gifts that God has given you. Nothing more…nothing less. You also do not have to give a gift. It is not a tax. But sharing the fruits of one’s labor dignifies the giver and recipient alike. It joins them together and ennobles them. And it has the potential to surprise. As this parish goes forward and continues growing into Christ, we will discover that we are able to do things the likes of which we had never dared dream, and we will dream things that before now were unimaginable! All that the widow could imagine at the moment she stood in the Temple with her last two coins was her own death. This was the last of the money…there was no more. She dropped the two coins into the box and heard them hit. She did not know or even care what happened to them. We do not know what happened to her. But we do know that the early church made special provision for widows and orphans. The church has always understood the care of the poor and those who suffer in their midst as part of its work. This has always been true no matter what the ecclesiastical politics might happen to be. In the end, Jesus didn’t leave us with much in the way of specific political advice. Feed the hungry, visit those in prison, clothe the naked and visit the sick. He did not mention anything about sending a message along with your care of those who suffer. Not one solitary word. Today, and all days, the widow invites us to focus on the currency of commitment, trusting that God will take what we give and, despite humanity’s brokenness, use it for God’s glory. It is exactly that commitment that turns all of our individual mites together into a mighty witness for God in our communities! Sources:
|
