3 Advent (Year C)
Luke
St. John’s, West Seneca
December 15, 2024
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
In Advent, one thing is assured. No matter how we view this season, with our concentration on Sunday School programs, dinner plans, gift giving, there is one person who stands in the midst of all our plans and demands an accounting. And that is John the Baptist: who is not exactly a soft and gentle presence in these weeks before Christmas.
But there he is, and his presence and his voice have authority. In today’s Gospel, he has only just begun his calling and he jumps right in. John is not a man who wastes time. He gets to the heart of the matter, calling out those who need a change of life. And he’s not above name calling either…
The two groups of “vipers” were tax collectors and soldiers. Here, these two approach John asking for specifics on how to straighten out their lives and bear fruit. The answers both groups receive are economic in nature — to collect only what is owed (no bonus for the tax collector) and to resist the temptation to add to a military wage by shaking down the populace. Again, there is nothing particularly surprising or self-sacrificing about what John recommends.
At the heart of this, John stands preaching at the Jordan reminding us to give, that God can do anything and that he is himself a lowly servant, pointing the way to the One.
It is all about giving. For the religious, faithful law keepers of his time, giving up entitlement, no more simply claiming Abraham as a descendant. For others, give generously. For still others, be fair. But how to do it?
“In verse 10, the crowds wonder how they should respond to John’s prophetic condemnations. He tells them to love their neighbors. Give them your coat, your food.
"He calls them to ordinary acts of grace.
"In verse 12, “even” the deplored tax collectors come and ask the same question. What should we do? We might expect John to instruct these servants of Roman power to get new jobs helping those in need, to stop serving their imperial masters and instead love the neighbors they previously had taken advantage of. No, instead, John calls them to be good tax collectors, to collect only that which is required of them.
"He calls them to ordinary acts of grace.
"In verse 14, soldiers ask the same question. What should we do? We might expect John to instruct these soldiers to lay aside their instruments of violence and embrace a way of peace. Instead, John tells them not to use their position of power to steal life or livelihood from anyone. Be good soldiers, he demands of them.
"He calls them to ordinary acts of grace. …” It is the same for us.
What should we do?
What should we do when there are refugees who come from a war zone?
What should we do when we have lost confidence in those who are supposed to be trustworthy?
What should we do about guns?
What should we do about poverty?
What should we do?
And the questions just go on.
This is why we need John the Baptist right now. Yes, his words are powerful, even threatening. But it gets our attention, doesn’t it? After all, he is pointing to Jesus, who has the winnowing fork is in his hand.
Advent is a time to get ready for the birth of Jesus and to prepare for his coming again. John would probably have some harsh words for us, but then he, John, would turn and call us to ordinary acts of grace. “He might call us to give what we have. He might call us to stay at our jobs and do them well. He might call us to the radical idea that seemingly ordinary lives can be imbued with the extraordinary spirit of God to transform the world. …
"We should seek that ordinary transformation that no one else may notice but will change us and the world more than we can imagine.”
I have often thought of Advent as a time to “wake up.” Wake up, because John the Baptist has a simple message for us. "Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”
Wake up, because these words are good words, and so they are what we need. Can we wake up and become a hope-filled people ready to do ordinary acts of grace? proclaim Jesus as Savior? Can we wake up and see a different world, a world where all have what they need, where wars are fewer? Can we wake up and see something that needs tweaking in ourselves?
We can wake up because God is about to do something that is the great mystery. Because Jesus entered into human life as a baby, lived a human life as a human, and died a sacrificial death on the cross as our Lord and Savior, we can be awakened from our doldrums and embrace a message of salvation that has been accomplished. What we can wake up to is new life, new hope, a new love.
That's why Advent is a season of preparation, the season of waking up. Christmas is not just the celebration of the birth of a child; it is the beginning of a chain of events that transforms the creation. Christmas is not just recognizing God's gift of the Incarnation -- it is also our acknowledgment of what this Incarnation means for every one of us. Wake up.
”Max Lucado tells the story of a man who had been a closet slob most of his life. He just couldn't comprehend the logic of neatness. Why make up a bed if you're going to sleep in it again tonight? Why put the lid on the toothpaste tube if you're going to take it off again in the morning? The man admitted to being compulsive about being messy.
"Then he got married. His wife was patient. She said she didn't mind his habits ... if he didn't mind sleeping on the couch. Since he did mind, he began to change. He said he enrolled in a 12-step program for slobs. A physical therapist helped him rediscover the muscles used for hanging up shirts and placing toilet paper on the holder. His nose was reintroduced to the smell of Pine Sol. By the time his in-laws arrived for a visit, he was a new man.
"But then came the moment of truth. His wife went out of town for a week. At first he reverted to the old man. He figured he could be a slob for six days and clean on the seventh. But something strange happened. He could no longer relax with dirty dishes in the sink or towels flung around the bathroom or clothes on the floor or sheets piled up like a mountain on the bed.
"What happened? Simple. He had been exposed to a higher standard of living. That's what Jesus does.”
These weeks and shopping days before Christmas are not easy, and most of us would rather ignore John the Baptist. After all, he is a bit rough. But we must wake up. Because if we want to get to the joy of Bethlehem and be in God’s presence, we must get past John the Baptist in the desert.’” Because this is the good news, and a new day and life are coming. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria
2 Advent (Year C)
Luke
St. John’s, West Seneca
December 8, 2024
Grace to you and Peace from God Our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
As you know, we have entered a new liturgical year, and so, our Gospel readings will be taken from Luke. As I am a teacher at heart, I have developed a pattern as we begin Advent, taking the first Sunday, maybe the second Sunday, to introduce you to the Gospel for that year. I began this about 15 years ago, and no matter how many times I turn to Matthew, Mark, or Luke, I find something that I had not noticed before.
So, who is this Luke? Tradition tells us that Luke was a companion of Paul, a physician and likely someone with a good knowledge of the Hellenistic culture: both literary and cultural. Hellenistic refers to the Greek and Roman world after the death of Alexander the Great. In our day, it would be easy to assume that someone who was a doctor was rich, but scholars have argued that Luke might have been born a slave. It was not uncommon for families to educate slaves in medicine so that they would have a resident family physician. As for Luke’s profession, not only do we have Paul's word, but Eusebius, Saint Jerome, Saint Irenaeus and Caius, a second-century writer, who all refer to Luke as a physician.
Whether that is true or not, we are not sure. But what we can gather from Luke – and Acts – is that the author knew scripture and was aware of various forms of writing. And, yes, Luke is the author of Acts, which is the early history of the church and how it expanded through the world.
As for the date of Luke’s gospel, most probably 80 AD or later. Most scholars believe he was writing in a thoroughly Hellenistic city. Some believe this to be Antioch, or in Asia Minor, like Ephesus or Smyrna.
Now, in contrast to either Mark or Matthew, Luke's gospel is written more for a Gentile audience, which would make sense. It is only in his gospel that we hear the parable of the Good Samaritan, that we hear Jesus praising the faith of Gentiles such as the widow of Zarephath and Naaman the Syrian, and that we hear the story of that one grateful leper who is a Samaritan. All foreigners. And since Luke is thought of as one of Paul's traveling companions, it would make sense that he was from one of those Greek cities that Paul visited.
Of the four evangelists, Luke wrote the best Greek, and unlike the other three, was probably a Greek-speaking Gentile. Luke’s gospel was written for a Gentile audience, and he translates Jewish names and explains Jewish customs whenever he thought it necessary. Filled with historical details, names and places, Luke is writing for those who may not be acquainted with Jewish customs, history or geography. You will have noticed that in the Gospel reading.
Luke's audience seems to have been a more cultured, more literate audience. We can say that because Luke's Greek is of the highest quality; it is the best. Luke reads like a novel in the Greek tradition. So, if you lived in Luke’s time, reading his gospel, or hearing it, would have been easy because Luke has control of the language.
Now the concerns of Luke's gospel are a little different; therefore, there are political as well as social concerns that we see as Luke writes his story, and it seems to be that his audience may have been more educated, perhaps a bit more cultured.
In his introduction to the Gospel, Luke is straightforward: "Since many have undertaken to set down an orderly account of the events that have been fulfilled among us, just as they were handed on to us by those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the word, I too decided, after investigating everything carefully from the very first, to write an orderly account for you…"
We have come from Mark’s Gospel, which is short and to the point. Mark viewed Jesus as a charismatic preacher and healer. Luke has his own spin. Luke sees Jesus almost as a prophet. When he goes to his hometown synagogue, he quotes Isaiah and it is the section that speaks of freeing those who are oppressed, allowing the blind to see. He is a liberator, a miracle worker and a teacher interested in the virtues of compassion and forgiveness and how those play out in society. And he is a giver, dispensing the great gifts of God. So Jesus is probably at his most powerful in the gospel of Luke, from a variety of perspectives, as prophet, as healer, as savior, as benefactor.
Luke's unique perspective on Jesus can also be seen in the miracles and parables that are featured in his gospel. And get used to hearing this. Luke is the gospel of the poor and of social justice. He is the one who tells the story of Lazarus and the Rich Man who ignored him. Luke is the one who uses "Blessed are the poor" instead of "Blessed are the poor in spirit" in the Beatitudes. Luke is concerned about the place wealth has in our lives. Only in Luke's gospel do we hear Mary's Magnificat where she proclaims that God "has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty."
In a nutshell, that is Luke.
As we are in Advent, let’s consider Malachi and his refining fire. Advent is that time to prepare for the birth of Jesus and for the calling as a Christian. And to do that, we must be refined.
A women's Bible-study group was once discussing Malachi 3:3, about how God "will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver." Resolving to find out more about the passage, the leader decided to go visit a silversmith and ask about the refining process. "Why don't you watch me at work?" he offered.
She observed how the silversmith held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that, in refining silver, it's essential to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames are hottest, so as to burn away all impurities.
She asked the silversmith if it were true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined. The man answered yes. Not only did he have to sit there holding the silver, he also had to keep his eye on it the entire time. If the silver was left in the flames just a moment too long, it could be damaged beyond repair.
She realized, then, the attention needed to be a refiner and purifier of silver, and what good news that is for those going through various trials in life. God’s attention is always on us.
Thanking the silversmith for his time, the woman made to leave, but he called her back.
"There's one thing you didn't ask," he said. "You didn't ask how I know the process of purifying is complete. I know it is finished when I can see my own image reflected in the silver."
This Advent, we have our work cut out for us. This refining may sound painful, but we must remember that with the “refiner’s fire,” we are made ready to take on whatever comes. It is not punishment, which only looks to the past. Refining is for the future.
And it is a work that continues. We are always being refined. Advent is the time when it is emphasized. So, when Jesus sees his own image reflected in his people, he knows the work of purifying is done. And that is a day we all wait for, eagerly. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria
Christ the King (Year B)
John 18: 33-37
St. John’s, West Seneca
November 24, 2024
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
“In 1925, Pope Pius XI instituted the feast day of the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe. To understand why he did this, we should consider what was happening in the world at the time. That year, Adolf Hitler had just published the first volume of Mein Kampf, which detailed his descent into antisemitism and his sinister designs for world domination. The signing of the Locarno Treaties that year was met with disdain by German extremists, who viewed them as a betrayal of Germany and a weakening of its power and influence in the world. A year later, more than 40,000 members of the Ku Klux Klan marched on Washington to demand, among other things, immigration restrictions based on race and nationality. With membership of over 5 million at the time, the Klan was the largest fraternal organization in the United States.”
The world was still in the grips of what was called the “Great War,” and there was this growing nationalist feeling around the world. So the Pope wanted to counter all this by focusing on the one thing that all Christians share: that Christ is King. Our first allegiance is to Christ, no matter what country you call home. We are called to be guided by the values that we own as followers of Jesus. This is over all else. And as my mother would say: No ifs, ands, or buts!
But how did we get here, to this day, the end of the church year? Yes, Christ the King marks the end. Next Sunday is the First Sunday in Advent, and we begin this cycle once again, only this time, the gospel for most Sundays will be taken from Luke. So, what’s it all about, this church year? It is the time of year to be thankful, so let’s consider this calendar we call the “church year.”
In our daily lives we keep track of our activities and special events with a calendar. The church does the same thing. Throughout the centuries the church has also “kept track” of days and seasons and commemorating special occasions with a calendar. Just as our Jewish friends structure their year around God’s saving works, so do we. We focus on what God has done for us in his Son, Jesus Christ.
We begin with Advent. These are the four Sundays preceding Christmas. It is more of a penitential season, and was once six weeks, like Lent. This is a time to prepare for the birth of Jesus at Christmas, and is also a time to prepare for the second coming of Christ. The Gospels will introduce us to John the Baptist and Elizabeth and Mary.
The color for the season is blue, for hope. Each week we will light an Advent Candle in anticipation of Christ’s birth.
As for the music, it is all about anticipation. O COME, O COME, EMMANUEL should come to mind. And no, technically, there is no singing of Christmas Carols.
Then comes Christmas, the third most important day – after Easter and Pentecost.
We celebrate the birth of Jesus as the sun goes down on December 24. We celebrate God becoming human; Emmanuel, God with Us. It is a time of the light breaking through the darkness, illuminating our way. The season itself is but 12 days, ending on January 5th.
The color for the season is white or gold. The music is…joyful.
The next season is Epiphany on January 6th, and this celebrates the coming of the Wise Men, those sages who saw something extraordinary in the sky and followed. The Wise Men are traditionally held to be diverse, coming from Asia, Africa, and Europe. The season itself has Jesus showing us who he is. The season itself varies in length from four Sundays to eight, depending on the date of Easter.
While the color of the day is white, the season’s color is green.
Then comes Lent. There are forty days to Lent, beginning on Ash Wednesday. There will be six Sundays, the last of those being Palm Sunday or the Sunday of the Passion. This is a penitential season, when we are called to walk with Jesus to the cross. In the early church, as more and more people became Christians, this was the final intense preparation for baptism, which occurred on the Great Vigil of Easter. As the Roman Empire became Christian, the church fathers kept these weeks as a penitential time for all of us.
And then Easter. That’s why we are all here.
Easter is a moveable feast, meaning that it is not on the same day each year. Easter is calculated as the first Sunday after the first full moon, after the spring equinox. By ecclesiastical rules set centuries ago, there are 35 dates on which Easter can take place. The earliest possible date for Easter is March 22 and the latest possible date is April 25.
The color for the day and season: white or gold, or both.
Pentecost comes fifty days after Easter and celebrates the birthday of the Church, when the Holy Spirit came in tongues of fire, allowing the disciples to speak to all who had gathered. This is the season of spiritual growth. Red is the color of the day, for the fire of the Holy Spirit, but the season’s color is green, for growth. It can last up to 28 Sundays, again depending on the date of Easter. It’s the long, green season we complete today.
That is what the church year does, setting out season by season – in progression -- the works of God that cause us to wonder and to engage and to grow more fully in our walk with God and in our relationships with others. From expectation and longing to birth and death, miracles and signs, we are treated to this great mystery, the God who “so loved the world that He gave His only Son…”
So as we come to this last Sunday of the church year, it’s time to take stock. Have you grown in your faith? Where have you seen God at work?
To know God is to understand that Christ is King and no earthly ruler can measure up. To know God is to place God first in our lives. To know God we must choose to live God, to practice his presence. With that, we do come closer in our relationship and our faith continues to grow. For faith to continue we must live it. To do that we have to understand what it is we do believe.
When we love our neighbor as ourselves, when we do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God, and when we care for the afflicted and stand up for the oppressed, that is when we abide in the truth that Jesus speaks of and that Pilate does not understand.
So we choose Christ. That is our truth. In simplest terms, it means putting faith into action, avoiding hypocrisy, loving our enemies, stressing integrity and quality, being truthful and honest, sustaining ourselves with Scripture and worship, so that we know whose we are.
The church year has a rhythm and a progression, and just as holidays recognize our need to feast and celebrate and honor, so does the church year. Our daily calendars remind us what routine tasks must be done today or next week, or the one after that. The church calendar reminds us that there is something far greater, far more mysterious, far more holy, than our routine tasks, and if we can enter into it fully, our lives will no longer be routine.
So take stock of where you have been this past year, and look forward to who you want to become in the seasons ahead. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria
26 Pentecost (Year B)
Mark 13:1-8
St. John’s, West Seneca
November 17, 2024
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
We have come to the last weeks of the church year, and now we find ourselves immersed in the “end times” texts, those readings that speak of the persecutions to come.
Today’s gospel reading has images of destruction, such as the destruction of the temple and the inevitability of wars, earthquakes, and famine; the destruction of the temple. And at first glance, there seems to be little good news to celebrate. But it is there. The good news is the “beginning of the birth pangs.” This is good news, birth pangs – for a woman - means the arrival of a child. And for us, birth pangs, in this case, is the promise of new life and new beginnings.
Jesus begins today’s text: “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”
By all accounts of the day, that temple was an awe-inspiring piece of architecture. At the time of Jesus, it had been under construction for almost 50 years and was nearing completion. Josephus, the Jewish historian, noted, "The exterior of the building wanted nothing that could astound either mind or eye. For, being covered on all sides with massive plates of gold, the sun was no sooner up than it radiated so fiery a flash that persons straining to look at it were compelled to avert their eyes, as from the solar rays. To approaching strangers it appeared from a distance like a snow-clad mountain; for all that was not overlaid with gold was of purest white."
It is said that the largest stones were 40 feet long, 12 feet high, 18 feet wide and bright white in their appearance. This was more than a temple in which to worship God; it was an incredible accomplishment of man.
And yet, Jesus made a startling claim, that there would come a day when even this amazing work of King Herod's hands, and all it represented, would come tumbling down. Toppled, not by earthquakes or armies but ultimately by God, who is immutable and everlasting. That is why we must remember that one definition of the church is “the gathered ones,” not a building. That is why we do not hook our wagons only to what is tangible. Our faith, our peace, the work of our hands, our efforts and treasures should not be focused only on what we can build. Those things all too often crumble, and we do not want our hope to go with it.
Jesus is cautioning us, reminding us that we are not to let our pride get the best of us, no matter how large the stones or the buildings. We have work to do, you and I. It is in our nature to be proud, but pride goes before the fall. The question comes down to doing what is right, without letting our accomplishments become all about us.
The question: how can we not be amazed at what we can do? Most of us have seen great buildings, whether a skyscraper or a cathedral. Moreover, we do have to work. We need to design and build, earn a living, sow and reap, put a roof over our heads, build roads, schools, hospitals and so on. Humans seem to have an innate desire to improve on what we have, and to aspire to greatness, create, design and develop, to always make things better.
Yes, we need to work; Jesus is not saying that we should not, nor does God deny our efforts. We are – after all – created in the image of God. And God is the master craftsman. We follow His example, but work is to glorify God, not ourselves.
As we come to the end of Mark, Jesus knows that His end is near. The time belongs to his disciples…and us. As we come to the end of the church year, we too need to consider what Jesus is telling us so that we may have that peace that He promises. If we are to walk with Him, we need to walk the whole way to the cross, and learn from it.
So the warning to “beware,” in Mark, comes down to focus, and focus on what is truly important and life-giving. It all comes down to the difference between “doing” and “being.” And Jesus knew very well that there is a difference between those who were great at doing, but not so great at being.
We are doers by nature, keeping busy, always thinking. In all of our doing, we tend to become enamored of our own efforts and forget God. When we put our trust in the work of our hands, we set ourselves up for trouble. There is no doubt that we are a blessed and gifted people. But if, in the end, rather than simply enjoying the work of our hands and the "blessings" in our lives, we make such things the center of our lives, then we are in danger. When we become distracted – forgetting God and placing our hope in temporary things – then we risk it all.
We all know of those who take great pride in how busy they are, in how many hours they put in, in the number of meetings attended. In doing that, we lose our focus, and that leaves us vulnerable, not just because we are ignoring God and the commandment to put God first, but also because when we are vulnerable, other voices can sound like a better deal. Other voices can offer excuses and rationalizations that seem right, and before we know it, we are led astray.
Matthew’s gospel echoes the same thing: "Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
We are always to keep God at the center of our life. Jesus's point is this: How you handle your life, your job, your possessions, your time, depends on where you believe your hope to be. Where are you placing the stones of your life? How strong is your foundation?
This is not a light nor easy gospel lesson. It comes down to who we are each and every day, and looking in the mirror is rarely easy.
I was reminded this past week of St. Julian of Norwich, whose words you may know. “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”
Julian was born in the mid-14th century. It is thought that she lived through two bouts of the bubonic plague, and saw the death of many of her family and friends. In her encounters with the divine, she saw the very love of God, that all-encompassing love that never lets us go.
“If there be anywhere on earth a lover of God who is always kept safe from falling, I know nothing of it -- for it was not shown me. But this was shown -- that in falling and rising again we are always kept in the same precious love.”
That is what Jesus means by being. Rather than seeing this text as doom and gloom, or fearful, we are to hear the good news and celebrate it: God is working in the world with his love; his kingdom is moving forward, even if we find less than ideal circumstances.
Buildings do fall; there are natural disasters of all kinds and always have been; wars, rumors of wars. There are those who try to lead us astray. But God is above all that. In Julian’s time, there was great despair, with about one-third of Europe was wiped out. Those were terrible times. But in the years after, came the Renaissance, fittingly, a new birth.
Jesus reminds us to keep our foundation strong and not be led astray. And when we do this, it will be as Julian writes: “And all shall be well. And all shall be well. And all manner of things shall be exceeding well.” Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria
25 Pentecost (Year B)
Mark 12: 38-44
St. John’s, West Seneca
November 10, 2024
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
Before us today are two different types of characters. First we have the description of the scribes that is humorous, but sad. These grown men seem to enjoy playing dress-up in their finest religious garb, and then they strut about the marketplace, waiting, of course, for all to see and greet them in the appropriate manner. And in accordance with such fine attire, they pray very long prayers, so that all may witness their piety. Most bought into the fact in society believed these scribes to be people of importance. It is an unflattering view of these men.
But that is not the worst of it. Not only do they dress and appear pious, their motives are suspect. Jesus accuses them of devouring the “houses” of widows. In his time, the most vulnerable people were widows. Widows had no rights. Their care fell to their children, if they had grown children.
This widow receives little description of her attire, but her motives are visible for Jesus – and us – to see. As Jesus sits down opposite the temple treasury and watches people offer money, there she is. Her giving is noteworthy, but more importantly, her gift serves as a counterpoint to the behavior of the scribes. On the other hand, Jesus points out how this poor widow has given “all she had” to the temple.
Did you know that Jesus uses the word “beware” only twice in Mark? And each time Jesus is as solemn, somber, and severe as we ever see him. So, “Just who are the scribes?”
In our common language, they were the lawyers; those men charged with interpreting the law, which by the time of Jesus had become so massive that a new occupation had not only been formed, but was flourishing.
Jesus notes that these scribes enjoyed their status: the robes, the invitations, the long prayers that were no doubt expected of them. By the way, about those robes. Those robes set them apart, making them highly visible. A long robe that swept the ground was the sign of a notable person. With such a garment as this long sweeping thing, you were not able to hurry about, and it had become a sign of leisure. Just ask any pastor about the problems with these robes, and you will hear the stories, like getting your heels caught in the hem, or billowy sleeves caught on anything.
“Beware of the scribes,” says Jesus.
Jesus certainly had a problem with them. They seem to care little about the truth of God, or the welfare of poorer members of society, and Jesus condemns them for saying long prayers for the sake of appearance, and devouring “widows’ houses”. No one is exactly sure what it meant to “devour widows’ houses,” but it has been speculated that these scribes entered into a kind of parasitic relationship with the rich widows of Jerusalem, offering guardianship or companionship in exchange for a life of wealth and power.
In any case, Jesus denounces such selfish relationships. He condemns the scribes for turning away from their role as experts in religious law, and putting their time and energy into acquiring social power and influence.
And then the scene shifts dramatically. We are told that rich people were dropping in large sums of money. A poor widow comes in and deposits two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. Jesus senses a teaching moment, so he calls his disciples and says to them, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury.”
The disciples probably nodded their heads in agreement with their rabbi, but somehow, I’d be willing to bey that they don’t get it. How can two copper coins equal the gold coins that the rich are dropping?
Jesus continues by saying that all of the rich “contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”
What matters is not the size of your gift, according to Jesus — it’s the seriousness of your commitment.
And so, as always, Jesus turns the world upside down. “Beware of the scribes,” and instead, look to the widow at the temple treasury, an ordinary woman with extraordinary commitment, when you want to see an example of giving your life to God.
Have you noticed that often it is those who are poor who are also the most generous? And not just on an individual level either. Many is the time at Synod Assembly when I see the smaller churches tithing to the synod, while the big, growing, wealthy churches do not.
Jesus calls a spade a spade. Jesus has tough words for those whose giving is not in line with what they have been given. Jesus has harsh words:
“• for those who wear the garments of religion over the tattered spirit;
• for those who can sit down with the rich, but won’t stand up for the poor;
• for those who pray long for themselves, but not for others;
• for those who live off the backs of poor widows;
• for those who have time for their own people, but who step to the other side of the road to avoid the “foreigner.”
Jesus knows exactly who we are. Too many of us who believe that righteousness is what you do with your hands; Jesus knows that righteousness is who you are in your heart. We may think we are like the widow in this story; but we are the scribes.
Jesus is making sure that we hear the truth, especially about those less fortunate. You see, Widows and orphans were among the poorest of the poor in a society where the majority were poor. In fact, to say a widow was poor is redundant. Not that this is news to us — we know that many in our population face poverty today. Certain southern states are poor, and because of that, their life expectancy is about 10-15 years below ours living in New York. With poverty, there is a host of other issues.
For Jesus, giving is very simply a matter of the heart. How do we give? How do we live? It’s not just with our money, but with our time, our talents, our very being. If the church is going to be the church, we have to look at how our lifestyle meshes with our faith. This means thinking seriously about whether the clothes we wear come from sweat shops, or whether the coffee we enjoy comes at the expense of the farmer who grows the beans. Are people getting a fair chance?
And while I say “thank you” often for your generosity, there is more to what Jesus is saying. Jesus knows that if we are not reminded often that we will fall behind. That is why the story of this widow and her small coins is so relevant. The poor widow gave the least of coins — equivalent to our pennies — but gave the most relative to her income. Her two coppers came out of her poverty, not her wealth; out of her want, not out of her affluence. Perhaps she gave so much because she knew what it’s like not to have enough. Perhaps past experience increased her faith that God provides.
Over the years, I have heard so many tell their stories after a visit to a third world country, where even out of poverty, the guest is given the very best that there is, where generosity is the rule of the day, not the exception. These people have nothing, yet they share that nothing as though it were gold.
It is where your heart is. The widow gave what she had because she was grateful to God for the little she had. And if you’ve ever been on the down side of life, you know what it means to be grateful for the blessings that just keep coming. Let’s commit ourselves to living out the faith of the widow, who worries none about robes and long prayers, only about giving. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria
All Saints Sunday (Year B)
St. John’s, West Seneca
November 3, 2024
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
We confess it every week in the Creed: I believe in the “communion of saints.” And yet, how many of us ever really think what that is?
I came across an article in my favorite journal: Homiletics, and I believe it’s the best definition I have seen in years.
The article began by talking silent partners, those people who are behind others who are promoting a new idea or invention, a new corporation. As you know, this is a financial arrangement, venture capital is start-up money for those that show promise.
We have silent partners as well, but this is something else altogether. These partners are mentioned in Revelation 7:9: “After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white …”
Revelation speaks of the great multitude; Hebrews speaks of a “great cloud of witnesses.” These are “the communion of saints.” They stand behind us, now in this time, lending support in ways that we are only slightly aware of.
Not every tradition — particularly Protestantism — is comfortable with the label, “saint.” Martin Luther, as well as other reformers who came after him, were suspicious of the Roman Catholic sainthood system, which canonizes the most famous Christians in history, then they become conduits of prayer. Martin Luther believed that saints -- while important – were not to be prayed to, as we go directly to Jesus.
As the article read: “…that’s not what the communion of saints is all about. “Saint” literally means “holy one.” These holy ones — these silent partners who enjoy a new and perfected life in heaven — collectively lend their support to the church’s efforts to be faithful here on earth. (In truth, the New Testament never speaks of an individual saint. The word occurs only in the plural.) The communion of saints doesn’t scrounge up venture capital, of course, but their constant prayer on our behalf is worth far more.”
As long as there is a communion of saints — and the promise of Revelation is that their heavenly witness is eternal — we will never lack spiritual support. They are our silent partners.
The good news is that we are never alone. They are with us, providing a type of “venture capital” because they believe we are of infinite worth and each one of us shows promise.
On this side of the communion of saints, it can be tricky. In our daily lives, with whatever comes our way, we may be assured of their presence. As we all know, sometimes things go well; we sense the Holy Spirit at work in our world, and realize we’re surrounded by God’s love, constant as the air we breathe. We know, in blessed moments like these, that our faith is real; that it works; that we are on the right path.
Of course, there are other times when we feel discouraged and disheartened. In times like this, life seems to be that famous “one step forward, two steps back.” There are times when we find ourselves nodding in agreement when the Psalmist laments that the wicked “have no pain; their bodies are sound and sleek … always at ease, they increase in riches.” (Psalm 73)
Yet, in every season — in good times or in bad — we can take comfort in this reassuring fact that we are never alone. For surrounding us on every side are our silent partners, the communion of saints.
So, who are these saints? Ordinary people, like us, and of course, those who led truly exemplary lives. There are plenty of books about their lives based on tradition. Getting beyond that, what we find is that the saints are not super-Christians. Some are famous, others have been lost. But all, as Paul writes, they are those who have “fought the good fight, finished the race, kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7).
And should we take the time to look beyond the halos and pious expressions, you will find very human men and women. As Blaise Pascal points out, “saints are merely people who have intimate knowledge of grace because they need it so much.” He writes: “To make a person a saint, grace is certainly needed, and anyone who doubts this does not know what a saint, or a human being, really is.”1
Saints are people like Abraham, who didn’t become saintly until very late in life. Scripture tells us almost nothing about this patriarch’s life before age 75.
There are saints like Teresa of Avila, who had a sense of the earthy as well as the sublime. “They say Teresa was once out walking with a group of her fellow nuns, when it started pouring rain. Then, the bridge they were crossing collapsed, casting the entire company into the muddy waters. Teresa looked to the heavens and exclaimed, “God, if this is how you treat your friends, I’d hate to be your enemy!” You can almost imagine her shaking her fist at the heavens. (And can’t you imagine yourself saying something very similar?)”
God is always looking for saints, and it is not only perfect people who are going to be found. Of course, there may be some who are born with the natural ability to love the Lord completely with heart, soul, mind and strength, 24/7 -- but for most of us, this passion comes only after we discover that God has always loved us, and that his love precedes our own.
And all God asks is that we respond with that same level of passion ... loving him with all our heart, soul, mind and strength ... and showing a willingness to love our neighbors as ourselves. God asks that we care for our neighbor, that we be good stewards of the creation, that we preach the good news, that we do whatever we are able to do. We may never be the scholar like St. Thomas Aquinas; but we can teach our children about Jesus. We may never be able to give all of our riches away, as St. Francis of Assisi did, but we can make an effort at giving. It is all about putting God first.
That’s what the saints do. The true mark of a saint can be found in the simple act of living and then taking action, no excuses. The mark of a saint is that we just keep going. There is a story Gracie Allen, who was the wife and comic partner of comedian George Burns, and a brilliant and perceptive woman. She left a message in her papers to be discovered by her husband after her death, a sentence that has become the motto for the United Church of Christ: “Never put a period where God has placed a comma.”
Gracie was encouraging George to remember that life had many chapters. George was 68 when Gracie died. Rather than place a period after his career, Burns went on to star in a number of movies, winning an Oscar for THE SUNSHINE BOYS, even including playing God. He died at age 100, having lived the life of the comma.
There’s a lot of truth in what Gracie said because it reminds us that God is always leading us into a new future. Don’t put a period where God has placed a comma — saints take this seriously as they look for new revelations every day. People who are saints in this life assume that God is always ahead of them, not stuck behind them, and they are constantly seeking to learn what God is revealing to them.
Saints are people in action. Those who study the lives of the saints marvel at how strong and enduring their faith was, how they could count on it to bear them up through all sorts of desperate situations. What not so many realize is that giants of the faith are not born with such devotion. They develop it over time.
Saints are ordinary people, who struggle with their faith like anyone else. And…the communion of saints is the community of the forgiven, not the unnaturally saintly. And that is why, each week, we state boldly our belief in this communion of saints, our silent partners. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria
Material comes from “Silent Partners”
Revelation 7:9-17
Sunday, May 8, 2022
—Carl Wilton contributed to this material
Contact
