GeeDubya's Sermon Site: Mark 12: 38-44 -- 11 November 2012

It’s come to this. But then again, it always comes to this. Two copper coins remain, only two. Do I spend them on food, then make some excuse for not going to worship at the Temple? Or do I go to Temple, give the last of my meager resources, and hope that some person of faith will take pity on me?

That was pretty much the choice facing the widow in today’s gospel reading. It’s one of those top scriptures that still gets referred to, even in secular circles: the inspiring, heartbreaking story of a woman living in poverty, giving all that she has.

Three weeks ago, I was worshipping at my Mom’s home Church in Regina, and there was a guest presenter from a child care centre which deals with low-income families. She made a great point: from her experience, what seemed to create the most problems for families in poverty was the constant stress of the situation. There have been enough times in my life where the paycheque ended long before the month, that these words struck home for me. When there’s not enough, you’re always cutting corners but worrying that you might be cutting the wrong corners. You feed the kids Kraft Dinner day after day and it fills them up, but they need fruit and veggies and protein too. But if you eat better, then there’s no way you can pay all the utility bills. You’re always on the lookout for a place with cheaper rent and better transportation options, but there’s likely a safety cost attached to that and the kids might have to shift schools. You could try to find an extra job, if your current work has predictable hours to permit that, but the more tired you get the more irritable you get with the family, or you stop noticing changes in their behaviour or their circle of friends. In short, when you don’t have enough to make ends meet, you’re constantly needing to make decisions and those decisions always have spin-off consequences that could get ugly. Living in a state of “high anxiety” all the time takes its toll on you.

I think it’s fair to take that sense of anxiousness and superimpose it on the story of the widow’s mite. The only social safety net in that time and place, was a demand within Judaism that the widows, orphans, and migrants be taken care of. Yet in the first part of todays’ reading, Jesus points an accusatory finger at the religious elite of his day and says “they take advantage of widows and rob them of their homes, and then make a show of saying long prayers.” (Mk. 12:39) And even if that kind of system was working, one’s self-image takes a real flogging if day after day after day is spent looking for enough of a handout to meet the needs of that day and maybe a bit of the next day. That mixture of beaten-down self esteem, and hunger, and anxiety about everything, frames the picture of a woman putting her last remaining financial resources into the collection box… and to me, makes her donation that much more remarkable. We talk about “giving till you hurt” but this woman was hurting even before giving. Her gift expressed devotion to the Temple; trust in God’s provision; and a deep understanding that whether you have a little or a lot, when you come right down to it, it ALL belongs to God.

In preparing for today’s message, my thinking on this scripture (the “the heroic, sacrificial giving of a poor widow”) has been challenged. Mark Davis, a most excellent Greek translator, scholar and blogger, argues that we need to remember the context of the widow’s contribution - it comes immediately after Jesus’ accusation of the religious nobility. With that in mind, Mark says:

“[By her donation to the Temple treasury, the widow] is participating in a system that routinely oppresses her and does so alongside of the guise of piety (v.40). In a profound way, she is acting with nobility and self-sacrifice and she is contributing toward an unjust system. She is giving all that she has and she is abetting a system that will take away all that she has. It is truly a tragic situation facing the widow, because her means of practicing true piety is at the same time a system that is devoid of justice and will, in turn, exploit her.

[She is] living tragically within systems that are oppressive and dehumanizing, yet are still places where one can make self-denying contributions toward the common good. …. Is the widow heroic? Sure. Is she naïve? Maybe. Is she contributing to a system that exploits her? Yes. Can she do otherwise? Maybe not.”

I have to admit – I had only seen the generosity of the widow. I had never before considered that she may not have had the option to do otherwise. Reading between the lines of Jesus’ attack on the teachers of the Law, it sounds like there may have been phenomenal pressure on poor people to literally give the shirts of their backs – that all-too-familiar guilt that has been such a common motivational tactic in the history of organized religion. Between this top-down pressure, the peer pressure of other poor people knuckling under, and her own sense of desperately wanting to contribute to a community devoted to God, the widow’s donation might not have been as freely offered as I had previously believed. I still honour the gift that she gave, but am a lot more angry about the circumstances that may have forced her hand.

Taken on its own, this is one powerful story pointed directly at every congregation. It chastens us as a religious community to make sure that we NEVER use “one-size-fits-all” stewardship methods that pressure the poor into giving more than they can afford, while never challenging those living a life of ease to truly embrace the spirit of sacrificial giving. But on this day, it also intersects with today’s solemn reminder that not all of our sacrifices are monetary.

In 1905, Charlotte and Frederick Wood applied to the British Government for a Dominion Land Grant. They were assigned a quarter-section of virgin land near the hamlet of Gunn, northwest of Edmonton. The eight oldest children were already established in England, so Charlotte, Frederick and their four younger sons emigrated to Canada, where they cleared a ranch on their new land.

When war broke out in 1914, Charlotte's 7 sons in Britain enlisted immediately. In Canada, the two older boys volunteered right away but the two younger lads were only 13 and 15. No matter - they signed up anyway at Christmastime, 1915. By the beginning of 1916, all eleven of Charlotte's sons had enlisted.

War struck home early in the Wood family, with Louis lost at sea in September 1914. In the agonising four years that followed, Charlotte and Frederick suffered a succession of losses: Fred, on the Somme; Harry, aged eighteen, at Gallipoli; Joseph, who survived Gallipoli and the Somme, perished at Passchendaele; and Percy, still a month shy of his 18th birthday, was killed at Vimy. In all, the Wood family lost five sons in the Great War.

Charlotte was awarded the George V Jubilee Medal in 1935, and was the first recipient of the Memorial Cross. A relative remembers that Charlotte was extremely proud of what her family had done, but also bitter that she and so many other mothers had lost loved ones and given so much to the "war to end all wars". For the rest of her life, Charlotte channelled her energies into voluntary organisations serving disabled veterans and bereaved family members, and into acts of commemoration for the fallen.

In July of1936, she sailed from Montreal as part of "The Vimy Pilgrimage". The Pilgrimage comprised 8,000 Canadian ex-servicemen and next-of-kin who were travelling to France for the unveiling of Canada's World War One Memorial. On the eve of departure, Mrs Wood told the press: "I would rather have all my twelve about me tonight than all your pilgrimages, so I would".

Today we ponder the weight of these losses. The complexity of the story of the Widow’s Mite helps give us a framework as we remember the courage and devotion shown in wartime; we offer thanks for the courage and dedication shown by soldiers and their families, and continue to acknowledge the depth of their sacrifice. We regret the ways that national pressure and peer pressure and, eventually, conscription, played a role in the loss of many lives and suffering of many debilitating injuries. We lament that wars still rage in the world, and pray for all who live in its horrible shadow.

We honour the stories of the Bible, when we seek their fullest meaning and consequence. We honour the memory of those who served in the Wars, those who died in battle, those whose lives were irreparably damaged by War, when we honestly embrace the circumstances of their sacrifices. In our living, may we be taught much by these stories of giving all. Amen.

For further reading:

On Charlotte Wood: http://www.hellfire-corner.demon.co.uk/ceris.htm

Mark Davis’ blog: http://leftbehindandlovingit.blogspot.ca/2012/11/pretentious-pretenders-pressuring.html

Another excellent reflection on the Widow’s Mite: http://economicdiscipleship.wordpress.com/2010/11/10/wrestling-with-the-widows-mite/