The Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany - January 31

Living in Christian Community
1 Corinthians 13:1-13

The love chapter in First Corinthians.

This chapter contains some of probably the most often quoted words in Scripture. It’s very important to remember, though, that this chapter does not stand alone. We often hear it isolated from its context. But it does not stand in isolation from the rest of Paul’s letter to the Christians in Corinth.

In the 13th chapter of First Corinthians, Paul is not preaching a wedding sermon. He is still writing to the fractious Corinthians. This chapter follows immediately after the readings we’ve had for the last few weeks. Paul is still addressing the congregation of Christians in Corinth who are divided by competitiveness and envy.

Interpretation of this chapter is also complicated by the fact, as many of you may know, that there are several different words in Greek that are all often translated into English as “love.” The Greek word that Paul uses in this chapter does not mean romantic love. Sometimes it is translated into English as “charity,” although that also has connotations in English that don’t quite fit.

Maybe charitableness is a bit better. Or a Godly generosity of spirit. A way of relating to one another that is self-giving and shows a Godly generosity of spirit.

At the end of last week’s reading, Paul summarizes important spiritual gifts but then adds a phrase that is really an introduction to today’s reading: “And I will show you a still more excellent way.” Spiritual gifts are important for the common good, but now I will show you an even more excellent way. A way of living in community that is beyond measure. “Love is the shape of life that has been set free from the competition that is disrupting the Corinthian church” (Brian Peterson; HERE). 

This passage is not a description of love. Not a poetic ode to love. It is instruction on how to live in community. It is a description of the relationships that characterize Christian community.

In verses 4-8a, “love” is the subject of 16 verbs in a row; it happens in every phrase. That may not come through clearly in English translations, where love is described by some rather static adjectives (“love is patient, love is kind”). Instead, Paul’s claims are that love “shows patience” and “acts with kindness.” Here, love is a busy, active thing that never ceases to work. It is always finding ways to express itself for the good of others. The point is not a flowery description of what love “is” in some abstract and theoretical sense, but of what love does, and especially what love does to one’s brother or sister in the church (Peterson). 

It costs something to practice this sort of love. A person acting with Godly generosity of spirit does not seek to win or excel at the expense of others. There shall be no envy, boasting, arrogance or rudeness, Paul says. Those are all aspects of relationships that include competition or belittling of others. Give that up, Paul says. Give all that up.

Writing about this passage, John Wesley says: "The love of God, and of our neighbour for God's sake, is patient toward, all men. It, suffers all the weakness, ignorance, errors, and infirmities of the children of God; all the malice and wickedness of the children of the world: and all this, not only for a time, but to the end.”

The presence of this sort of love, is measured not by “how it feels.” In the context of 1 Corinthians, it would be better to say that the measure of love is its capacity for tension and disagreement without division (Peterson, quoting Krister Stendahl).

Thinking about this sort of love, this Godly generosity of spirit, as the quality of relationships within the Christian community, got me to thinking…

Could we think of the opportunity to practice this sort of love as a motivation to participate in Christian community? Is the opportunity to be active in this sort of relationship a reason to be a part of a church? The Christian community provides a place to practice Godly generosity of spirit. To show kindness and act with patience. To put aside envy and boasting. Even when it’s not easy.

Might we choose to come to church just so we can practice being kind and patient and charitable? God knows we all do need the practice.

It’s sort of like going to the gym or eating your vegetables or whatever example works for you. You do it. Maybe not always eagerly. Maybe not as frequently as you should. But you do it because it gets you to a place you want to be. It is the path towards a worthwhile goal.

And God knows the world needs a lot more Godly generosity of spirit. The larger communities in which we live and interact need more people acting with more Godly generosity of spirit towards one another. The church can be both a model and a place to practice. To work on our skill at maintaining relationships characterized by Godly generosity of spirit.

 The opportunity to practice Christian relationships is not the only reason to come to church, of course. We come to worship, to join our voices in praise of God. We come to be supported and sustained by the kindness and care of others. And we come to be renewed by the immeasurably generous love that God has for each of us.

Remember, as we seek to embody this Godly generosity of spirit, we are able to do so, however imperfectly, because we have been given the immeasurably generous love and care of God. Despite our frailties, despite our sin, despite our lack of faith, God’s infinitely generous love for each of us never fails.

The Third Sunday of Advent - December 13

St. Lucy's Day

Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us.

The “stir up” collect. A slightly different version of this collect has been in Anglican prayer books for centuries. It used to come on the Sunday Next before Advent. And the story goes, in England, “Stir up Sunday” was the day you stirred up your Christmas pudding in anticipation of the coming feast.

Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us.

The focus of today’s Gospel is on John the Baptist and his proclamation of the One who was to come among us. I’m not going to preach on John as we heard about him toady in Luke’s Gospel. There is certainly a lot to be drawn from Luke’s account, even the reference to the “brood of vipers,” and I’ve preached on it before. But today I want to focus on John the Baptist as herald of Christ as he is described in John’s Gospel. From the first chapter of John (John 1:6-9):

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. 

 The power and might that we pray to come among us is light, says John. Light is coming into the world.

This focus on light is particularly appropriate for today. Today is Saint Lucy’s day. Or, as she is known in some places, Santa Lucia. Her commemoration is ancient and before calendars were tweaked and regularized, St. Lucy’s day fell on the shortest day of the year.

John Donne wrote a poem titled “A Nocturnal upon St. Lucie’s day.” He calls the day the year’s midnight.

December 13 is no longer the shortest day of the year, although it’s close, of course. With our current calendar the winter solstice falls on either December 21 or 22. On that shortest day of the year here in Chicago, we will have a little over 9 hours of daylight. As much as grouse about the dark this time of year, that’s not really too bad. I checked a few other cities. Stockholm (and I’ll come back to why Sweden is important) will have just a little over 6 hours of daylight. (Sweden is at a roughly similar latitude to Alaska). The farthest north I’ve ever been is Rovaniemi, Finland, just south of the arctic circle. On December 21 in Rovaniemi, there will be 2 hours and 14 minutes of daylight. Nine hours sounds pretty good.

We know virtually nothing about the life of St. Lucy. One resource I checked said, all the details of her life are the conventional ones associated with all female martyrs of the early 4th century.

There is a 5th century work called the Acts of Saint Lucy. The Oxford Dictionary of Saints states: Her historically valueless Acts make her a wealthy Sicilian who refused marriage offers… a characteristic of all 4th century female martyrs… and gave her money to the poor. She was accused of violating (male) authority, and faced significant indignities before being killed by the sword.

All we really know is her name. Lucy. And Lucy was apparently martyred during the vicious persecutions of the Roman emperor Diocletian. She died in 304.

We know her name. Lucy. Which in Latin means light. Light. Saint light. So it is appropriate that we associate the saint of light with the darkest day of the year.

She is popular in her native Italy. And in Sweden, where St. Lucy’s day is rich in festive traditions. In Sweden they know something about darkness this time of year. And about the power of light coming into darkness. The celebration of St. Lucy is about light coming into darkness.

Light shining in darkness. Light coming into darkness.

What are your memories or experiences of light shining in darkness? They might be grand or mundane. A brilliant sunrise at dawn or the small nightlight that guides your way when you get up in the night.

The stars in the night sky. Especially in winter when the air is crisp and the stars seem to sparkle more brilliantly and the noble hunter Orion stands guard. And the awe and wonder of loosing yourself in contemplating the stars. Or the luminaria that line the walk to the front door of the church on Christmas eve, leading to the place where our Savior’s birth is celebrated.

Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us.

So what does the power and might of light bring when it comes into the world?

Enlightenment. New understanding or awareness, especially of God’s presence. Do you know why angels are portrayed in dazzling raiment? In robes that shine with light? Because they are messengers of God. The bring the enlightenment of God’s word.

Light shining in the darkness also has the power to draw people together. People gather around the light. A street light. A campfire. Light draws people together. Families. Or also people who might otherwise be separated by difference or indifference.

Light not only provides the new vision of enlightenment, it also quite literally improves vision or sight. Light in darkness marks a path, makes it possible to see where you are and where you’re going. It provides safety and direction on a journey that can be hazardous.

Light often provides comfort and warmth.

Light coming into darkness often heralds a new beginning, a new start, a new dawn.

And light shining in darkness, like the stars in the sky, has the power to evoke awe and wonder. To draw us out of our human finitude and into reverence and praise of God.

All of that power and might amounts to hope, really. Light brings hope. We live in a world and a time that is often dark and in need of hope. All times do.  Lest we think our day is particularly dark, remember Rovaniemi or the persecutions Christians faced in the time of Diocletian.

But the world needs the light that is coming. Have you known it? Can you describe the true light? Like John the Baptist, we are called to be heralds, to testify to the light. To share with others the power and might of the light. We must testify to the light that is coming into the world.

The Second Sunday of Advent - December 6

Channing Moore Williams and Advent

The Second Sunday of Advent. Another candle lit on the Advent wreath. One week closer to the celebration of Jesus’ birth.

This week in the Wednesday morning service we commemorated the life and ministry of one of the “lesser” saints of the church: Channing Moore Williams. Those commemorations come from our calendar of saints, Holy Women, Holy Men. It includes a brief biographical sketch of each saint along with an appointed collect and Scripture readings.

As we celebrated Channing Moore Williams, a few points struck me as particularly appropriate for Advent. First, a little information about who he was.

Bishop Williams, a farmer’s son, was born in Richmond, Virginia on July 18, 1829, and brought up in straitened circumstances by his widowed mother. He attended the College of William and Mary and the Virginia Theological Seminary.

 Ordained deacon in 1855, he offered himself for work in China, where he was ordained priest in 1857. Two years later, he was sent to Japan and opened work in Nagasaki. In 1866 he was chosen bishop for both China and Japan.

At a synod in 1887 he helped bring together the English and American missions to form the Nippon Sei Ko Kai, the Holy Catholic Church of Japan, when the Church there numbered fewer than a thousand communicants.

Williams translated parts of the Prayer Book into Japanese; and he was a close friend and warm supporter of Bishop Schereschewsky, his successor in China, in the latter’s arduous work of translating the Bible into Chinese. 

So three loosely connected Advent reflections, stirred by the story of Bishop Williams.

The first comes from the collect written for the commemoration of Williams’ ministry. In it we pray, “Raise up in this and every land evangelists and heralds of your kingdom, that your church may proclaim the unsearchable riches of our Savior Jesus Christ.”

The call for heralds is certainly an Advent theme, especially on this day that we particularly remember John the Baptist, but it was the phrase “unsearchable riches” that really caught my attention.

Unsearchable riches of our Savior Jesus Christ. What does that mean? Unsearchable riches? At first glance it doesn’t seem like it’s something positive to proclaim. How is unsearchable a good thing? The English word “unsearchable” is a little tricky. It doesn’t mean what it might seem to mean. It doesn’t mean “cannot be searched for.”

It means “cannot be fully or totally or clearly understood.” The phrase is actually taken from Ephesians. I don’t know if it’s a passage that was particularly important to Bishop Williams. The Greek word translated unsearchable is also sometimes translated unfathomable. Beyond our fathoming.

But here’s the good news. This does not mean that the riches or blessings of Jesus Christ cannot be sought or found. They can be and are. But there is always more. Always more goodness and blessing to be found ahead.

This phrase or passage is a reminder of humility. Don’t ever think you have fully fathomed the riches of Christ. But is also an Advent reminder that we are always searching. Always on a journey. And that more and deeper riches and goodness and blessing always lie ahead.

My second reflection comes from Williams’ ministry in Japan. And it’s a powerful reminder that it takes time for the work of becoming a Christian and for doing Christian ministry. It takes time.

Remember, first, that when Williams initially went to the Far East, he was six months at sea. Then he took a full year to work on the language. Later, when he moved to Japan, it was 6 years before his first convert was baptized. Six years.

Because God works through us, God’s work always takes time. Sometimes lots of time. Time for our own Christian identity and vocation to grow. Time for Christian ministry to come to any fulfillment. Advent is a reminder that waiting is a part of being a Christian. That Christianity is not characterized by instant gratification. A very important Advent reminder in our culture that demands instant everything. Instant communication. Instant acquisition. Instant information. Instant gratification. The development of Christian identity and Christian ministry takes time.

On to my third reflection. As I thought about the counter cultural message of Advent—the positive messages about waiting and taking time—I found it very tempting to turn this into a rant against all sorts of features of contemporary life… the expectation of instant communication, constant texting, always connected to the internet. It was very tempting to label all of that constant communication and connectivity as unchristian.

And yet… The more I thought about it, I think God would love texting. I think God does text. He just doesn’t use a cell phone. Constant communication. Non-stop connectivity. That’s exactly what God offers us and seeks from us. No matter what we’re doing or where we are. If only we could only really claim that sort of ongoing communication with God and constant connectivity to God’s presence.

God doesn’t give us instant gratification or immediate fulfillment of everything we wish for. But God does offer us unceasing presence, guidance and love. Constant communication and connection. And that’s what guides us in our search for the never ending riches of Christ. That’s what strengthens and sustains us as we live into—over time—our Christian identities and ministries.

The First Sunday of Advent - November 29

Advent:  The Church's Intervention in Our Lives
Luke 21:25-36

Today is the beginning of the new year. It’s the First Sunday of Advent, the beginning of the year in our worship life together.

This season of Advent is a time of anticipation and preparation. Advent, of course, is one two seasons of preparation in the church calendar. Two seasons that look forward to great, festive holy days. Advent looks forward to Christmas; Lent looks forward to Easter. But, in many ways, the two seasons are very different. I think of Lent as a call to obligation, to disciplined practice. That obligation is holy and enriching, but it is an obligation. Advent is a gift. A gift of time. A time filled with promise. God’s promise of a coming Savior.

There’s a TV commercial running right now that you may have seen. There are at least two versions of it. It’s for the Wall Street Journal. The commercials show young, busy, important, successful, creative people… juggling all of the demands of their lives… saying, “I don’t have time to read the Wall Street Journal.” Then at the end of the commercial, they are shown reading the Wall Street Journal. And the tag line is: People who don’t have time, make time to read the Wall Street Journal.

I’m sure the Wall Street Journal can be informative, but Advent is way more important than the WSJ. Advent offers you immeasurably more than the Wall Street Journal! No matter how busy you are, make time to keep Advent. Make time. Literally. Open up time in your life for Advent.

Lent is about discipline. About doing faithful practices.

Advent is about time. Make time. Advent time.

What makes time Advent time? How do we fill Advent time? One suggestion is: Don’t fill it. Leave it open. Open time for hope and expectation to grow.

Or some other suggestions for making time for Advent in your lives.

Use an Advent wreath at home. At least once a week sit at the dinner table and light the appropriate number of candles for that week. Or light it daily. At a minimum when you light the candles, say the Advent collect. It’s the one we said this morning. It’s on today’s Scripture inserts. We have materials for making Advent wreaths and fuller directions for using them downstairs in the undercroft.

Or use some sort of reflection for Advent. Use the Living Compass Living Well through Advent booklets. Or I’ve prepared a short list of Advent resources available online.

Sit and listen to music. Music that stirs your soul. Really listen. Not just in the background.

Sit in darkness with points of light. As a girl I used to sit alone in the quiet and the dark with the lights of the Christmas tree shining. That sparkling of beauty breaking into the dark. A candle or two or three or four lit in the dark also works well. Light coming into darkness is a particularly appropriate symbol for Advent.

Go for a walk. Go for a walk at night. Even here in the suburbs the winter sky is beautiful.

At the beginning of Giancarlo Menotti’s opera Amahl and the Night Visitors, the young shepherd boy Amahl is outside. He and his widowed mother are excruciatingly poor. She tries to call him in to go to bed; he is reluctant. When she asks him what was keeping him outside, he replies:

Oh, Mother….
There’s never been such a sky.
Damp clouds have shined it
and soft winds have swept it
as if to make it ready for a king’s ball.
All its lanterns are lit;
all its torches are burning
and its dark floor is shining like crystal. 

The riches of the night sky seen through the eyes of a boy who has nothing.

Make time for Advent.

Open a space in what Luke calls the worries of this life. By God’s grace, hope will be born in that space.

Notice the yearning within your soul of what Frederick Buechner calls the hungering dark. By God’s grace, that is where the light of Christ will grow.

Just stop all the craziness. All the craziness of this season. Just stop. You can. Stop long enough to let God plant a seed of peace in your heart. A seed that, by God’s grace, will grow into the peace that surpasses all human understanding.

Be quiet long enough to hear the voices sing: O, Come. O Come, O come Emmanuel. The voice of your own heart; the voices of those you love yearning for God With Us; the voices of the world in desperate need of a Savior; the joyful angelic voices filled with hope and promise. Be quiet long enough to hear the Advent hymn: O come, O come Emmanuel.

Advent isn’t in the Bible. God didn’t invent Advent (at least not directly). The church invented Advent. Advent, as a time filled with all that is good about this season. The church offers you Advent to illustrate, to teach, to make real in your lives all that is good about this time.

Here’s another way to think about Advent. Advent is the church’s intervention in our selfish, cluttered, materialistic lives. Will you accept the gift of Advent?

If you know the language or architecture of the recovery movement, you know that interventions are acts of desperate love. And hope. Hope for life and health renewed.

Advent is the church’s intervention in the selfish, overstuffed, materialistic lives that are killing us. Will you accept the gift of Advent?

Will you make time for Advent?

Thanksgiving Day

Le Jour de l’Action de Grace

Thanksgiving. Thanks. Giving. Giving thanks.

As the name implies, from its earliest celebrations this day in this country has been about GIVING thanks, the action of giving thanks.

It is a good time to pause and count our blessings, to bring to mind the things we are thankful for. But that’s not the stopping point. This holiday is about giving thanks. At a minimum that means giving voice to our thanksgivings. Saying thank you to God, to defenders of liberty, to family members, to those have given us the things we’re thankful for.

But this year Mary Schmich of the Tribune has given me another insight into this holiday. In a recent article she notes the Spanish and French names for this “quintessentially American holiday:”

El dia de acción de gracias. Le jour de l’action de grace. 

Our English composite, smushed together, word “thanksgiving” doesn’t exist in Spanish or French. Thanksgiving becomes acción de gracias or l’action de grace. The day of action of thanks. Or the day of action of grace.

Today is a day to undertake graceful actions. To do things that are grace-filled.

How do we do that?

Maybe one way to start is to begin in those places where we are thankful. And then act upon that thankfulness. Share, nurture, celebrate those things we are thankful for. Many of the meals and gatherings of this day will indeed be grace-filled. Although for many people family gatherings can be fraught. Focus on thankfulness. Seek and share grace. Grace is in these gatherings. Name it; share it.

I saw some grace-filled action earlier this morning. At my neighbor’s across the street, extended family is gathering, undoubtedly to share a feast later today. But this morning, some of them were out raking leaves, including a boy who must be about five, wielding a full-sized rake. With energy, joy and grace. A task that might seem onerous, filled with grace because it was shared, part of the blessing of family.

Start in the places of thanksgiving. If you are thankful for the beauty of creation. Get out in it. Take a grace-filled walk.

At last night’s interfaith community Thanksgiving service, Pastor Claude King asked us to imagine our perfect Thanksgiving. What is your image of a perfect Thanksgiving? What needs to happen for that to be a reality? In your life? In our community? In the world?

Whatever it is that needs to happen… do it. Those will be actions of grace.

Thanksgiving. A day for grace-filled actions.

The Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost - November 15

Provoke One Another
Proper 28
Hebrews 10:11-25
Mark 13:1-8

When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birthpangs.

From today’s Gospel. Today is the next to last Sunday in the church year. And, every year at this time, as the year wanes, we hear passages like this one. The technical term is “apocalyptic.”

It’s a word we know. The general meaning of the word apocalypse is “uncovering,” disclosure, revelation… An uncovering or revealing of something that was unknown or hidden. In religious usage the word has come to mean the revelation of how the world will end. What the end of all things and all time will be like. Apocalyptic writing is a specific style or genre in the Bible.

In our regular lives, it is probably a genre we are unfamiliar or uncomfortable with, at least when it is presented as fact. And it is a worldview that we probably dismiss as “crazy.” After all, up to this point, every individual who has predicted the imminent end of the world has been wrong. Just another loony predicting the end of the world this coming Tuesday… based on some permutation of numbers in the Mayan calendar, or some other calendar, or reading tea leaves or something else equally fantastic.

But, within the Bible, apocalyptic writing is found in both the Old and New Testaments. It is a particular style with consistent characteristics.

 Chapter 13 in Mark is often called the “Little Apocalypse,” to differentiate it from the “Big” Apocalypse of the Book of Revelation. From a commentary on Mark’s Gospel (Lamar Williamson, Jr., Interpretation):

Mark 13 displays several characteristics of apocalyptic thought: a deterministic and pessimistic view of history (the course of history is clearly determined, and it isn’t going to end well), anticipation of the end of the world in some great and imminent crisis, a dualistic understanding of human existence, and visions of cosmic upheaval. The symbolism of the chapter is largely drawn from apocalyptic passages in the Old Testament and related literature, particularly from the Book of Daniel which is quoted verbatim three times… [Mark 13] must be understood in the context of the apocalyptic literature of the Old and New Testaments and of the apocalyptic movement in Judaism and Christianity which gave birth to these writings.

Speaking more specifically about the verses we heard today:

They convey a series of… warnings against deceptive signs of the end-time: the appearance of deceivers, wars, and upheavals of nature…. The gist is that “the end is not yet.” 

A warning against deceptive signs of the end-time. A warning against deceivers predicting the end-time. The end is not yet.

Jesus, in Mark, goes on to say, more or less, you’ll know the real end when it comes. It won’t just be the end of your world; it will be the end of the world. Don’t confuse the two. The end is not just the end of your way of life; your social structure; not even the end of humanity. The end will be cosmic. So this isn’t it. Don’t worry.

You may or may not find Jesus’ words reassuring, but they are meant to be.

It’s hard to know in this passage how much comes directly from Jesus and how much is Mark speaking to his own community. The community to whom Mark wrote was facing troubling and uncertain times:

 … disappointment at Jesus’ delayed return, the immense social and religious upheaval caused by the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple [their whole self-understanding as God’s people], possible persecution by secular and religious forces, confusion among Jesus’ followers about whether they had missed his second coming, and conflicts between rival Christian leaders (David Lose, HERE).

The end is not yet. Your life may be uncertain, confusing, frightening, a total mess, but don’t worry, the end is not yet.

For all of us gathered here, life is pretty good really. But the world around us often seems like a mess. And some times more than others that mess seems to come close and threatening. In one sense, although the style of Mark’s apocalyptic writing may seem strange, it may also seem all too familiar. We see around us faith-based conflict and violence. Nation rising up against nation.

As David Lose reflects on this passage, he notes that Jesus’ ultimate message is that the antidote to confusion and fear is not certainty, it is courage. The antidote to uncertainty, confusion and fear is not some certainty of signs, not an indisputable roadmap for the future. The antidote to confusion and fear is courage. Courage born of the knowledge that we are God’s own beloved, no matter what. That we dwell in the being of Christ. Think about that. We dwell in the very being of Christ. We live within, we share the life, of Christ himself, no matter what is going on around us. Christ offers us newness of life, renewal, healing of all that is broken, even now. And nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus!

The Christian response, the Christian perspective, in times of fear and uncertainty is all there in today’s reading from Hebrews. It’s there in Hebrews.

Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful. And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.

This week I could not help but read this passage from Hebrews within the context of the terrible acts of terrorism that have occurred in several places around the world. Terrorism, as we think of it now, is a concept that has only been around for the last 15 years or so. And it always involves “groups.” Which “group” takes responsibility. This sort of terrorism occurs because of groups. I do not diminish the individual responsibility of the people who commit these ungodly acts, but it takes a group to provoke, radicalize, recruit, inspire individuals to act. It takes a group to provoke and inspire individuals to act.

I’m a little wary of this analogy, fearing that I will be misinterpreted.

But Hebrews reminds us that we are a group. We Christians are a group. And that is our strength. It is when we “meet together” that we encourage one another to “hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering…” As we meet together we encourage, we instill courage, in one another. And, as a group, we PROVOKE ONE ANOTHER TO LOVE AND GOOD DEEDS.

That is what Christians do in a world that is fearful, confusing and threatening. Provoke one another to love and good deeds.

The Twenty-fourth Sunday after Pentecost - November 8

Learning to See
Proper 27
Mark 12:38-44

The Gospel reading for today may seem pretty simple and straightforward. But it’s tricky.

Most modern Bibles separate this passage into two parts with separate headings. The first is called something like Jesus’ teaching on humility. The second part is titled: The Widow’s Mite, or The Widow’s (small) offering.

The second part about the widow is well known; it’s a familiar story. And, at first glance, it may look like the perfect text for a stewardship sermon. The message is simple. Give sacrificially. A lot of stewardship sermons have certainly been preached on this passage. I didn’t go back to check. I hope I never have. The temptation is strong, especially since we hear this passage in the fall when most parishes are doing their annual pledge campaigns.

The widow gave “everything she had to live on.” As one commentator said, she was two pennies away from death. Literally. And she gave away those two pennies. The fall parish pledge campaign is not war. It does not demand the sacrifice of a life. There are several possibilities if she really gave all she had to live on. (1) She knew she was close to death and wanted that to be her last act. (2) She wanted to die so gave away her remaining meager means of support. Or (3) she was so mindlessly bound to duty that even in the face of death she acted as she thought she “should.” This stinks as a stewardship text.

But I don’t think today’s Gospel is about the widow. The first thing to do is to look at today’s passage as a whole. Within the broader context of Mark’s Gospel, this passage is a coherent unit, not two separate stories.

And it’s about the disciples. Jesus is teaching the disciples. And he’s teaching them not so much about how to give, as how to see. And who to see. This passage is about how to see.

One commentator reflecting on this passage called it: Jesus' Tips on People Watching.

At the beginning of this passage, the disciples couldn’t take their eyes off of the scribes. They WERE treated with respect. They DID have the best seats in the synagogue. They were the star athletes of their day. The disciples are having an “I wanna be like Mike” moment. After all, the disciples were in the religion business, too. And the Scribes were at the top. The disciples looked at them with envy and admiration.

Some of those scribes, Jesus says to the disciples, at least some of those guys you envy, aren’t so religious. For them, it’s all about the attention and status. They are folks who just use religion for personal status and gain. They are self-centered hypocrites. BEWARE. Be wary. Don’t spend your time ogling those people. Be wary of aspiring to be like them.

Jesus tries to redirect their vision. To change how they see people. Change who they see.

The widow is nobody, not noticeable, worth nothing. In the society of that day, a widow was worth nothing. Jesus doesn’t tell the disciples they should BE her, or be like her. In fact, he never explicitly praises her. Jesus says, NOTICE her. SEE her.

She’s just a woman. Just a widow. But she matters, Jesus says. She is worth noticing. See her. Jesus is trying to teach the disciples how to see people with God’s eyes.

The lesson is just as relevant for us today. Do we just see the people who want us to see them, or do we see the people God wants us to see? Do we focus on the people society heralds and holds up, or do we see people as God sees them?

Or, another way of thinking about it: Do we see people as they want to be seen, in the manner that they present themselves, or do we see people as God wants us to see them?

For those of us who are disciples, followers of Jesus… how we see is very important. It is the beginning of every choice we make. Where we go. What we do. How we see… how we sense… what we learn from all of our senses…. sight, hearing, touch, intuition… How we perceive determines every choice we make. Where we go. What we do. How we give of ourselves. Who we interact with, and how.

Lord, teach us how to see.