Posts Tagged ‘widows’

Praise or sarcasm – the widow’s mite

November 9, 2024

Pentecost 25 – 2024

Mark 12:38-44

Marian Free

In the name of God who consistently demands that we care for the alien, the widow and the orphan. Amen.

Recently I had cause to meet someone for lunch in Beenleigh.  Just prior to the shopping centre I made a wrong turn. We found ourselves in what had been a park. Well, it was still a. park, but now every square inch was covered with tents and tarpaulins. People who for whatever reason had nowhere to live had made homes of a sort in this relatively out of the way place. 

I cannot imagine what it must be like to be a parent who has to put their children to bed without a proper meal, to send them to school  without the right school books or who has to tell their children that their home is no longer their home and that they will be living in a tent or in a car or in someone’s garage until they can find another home to rent. The current cost of living crisis and the shortage of accommodation means that more and more people are finding themselves in these sorts of situations – tossing up between paying the power bill and buying nutritious food, having to rely on food banks and the kindness of others, and constantly having to say “no” to one’s children.

In Jesus’ time there was no welfare. The poor were totally reliant on the kindness of others. Women were entirely dependent on their families – their fathers and then their husbands and then their sons.  Widows who did not have sons were particularly vulnerable. The Temple offerings were meant in part to support the widow and the orphan, but Jesus’ attack on the scribes suggests that this was not a current practice.

Our use of scripture is fascinating. Despite the fact that this morning’s gospel begins with Jesus’ attack on the scribes (scribes who ‘devour widow’s houses’). Most preachers (myself included) have tended to use the widow’s actions as an example of sacrificial giving. Many a stewardship sermon has urged congregation members to give until it hurts, using the widow’s willingness to give her last coins as a model for the giving approved by Jesus.

At first glance, Jesus does appear to commend the widow for giving everything (in contrast to the rich whose large gifts represented only a small proportion of their total wealth).  “For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.” But is this really the point that Jesus is making? Can we really imagine Jesus – the same Jesus who raised the son of the widow of Nain and so saved her from destitution – taking delight in the actions of a widow that will leave her nothing to live on? Could Jesus, raised on the Old Testament insistence that the Israelites care for the widow and the orphan, simply commend the woman from a distance and allow her to return home to die (if indeed she has a home to go to)?

The usual interpretation, tempting as it is to all clergy who would like to encourage parishioners to be more generous, denies the widow of her personhood. She becomes an object lesson rather than a flesh and blood individual. No attention is paid to her life, how long she has been widowed, whether or not her husband had left her with something or nothing, whether or not she ever had sons, where her father and brothers might be, or how she has survived until now. No thought is given to her current state of destitution – her two small coins would only have been able to purchase enough flour to make one or two biscuits. No one asks whether she is giving away the coins, not as a sign of generosity, but as evidence of her complete despair – her willingness to give up and die.

Interpreting the widow’s act as a sacrificial also fails to take into account the immediate and the wider context of the story. Given Jesus’ prior comments about the scribes – who not only do everything they can to draw attention to themselves, but who also use their status and their education to impoverish widows – (charging for legal assistance, taking advantage of a widow’s hospitality, taking money on the promise of a prayer)[1] – it is more likely that Jesus is here continuing his critique of the scribes. You can almost hear his voice dripping with sarcasm – rather than commending the widow, he is condemning the scribes – she is giving all she had to live on. The scribes, whose task it was to interpret the law, appear to have forgotten the law’s instruction to care for the widows. While they give only what they can afford, they treat the widow as if she doesn’t exist.

Rather than be an example of sacrificial giving, the widow serves to expose the self-serving, self-obsessed scribes who think only of the attention that they receive if they wear their long robes and make long prayers. 

The wider context of these verses supports this interpretation. It commences with Jesus’ Cleansing of the Temple (11:15-19) and concludes with Jesus’ prediction of the destruction of the Temple (13:1-2). Throughout the section the focus is on the corruption of the Temple worship and on the failure of the leaders of the church.  

In this broader context the widow becomes an illustration of just how far from God’s ideal the church has fallen. That a widow, who has nothing left to live on should feel that she has to continue support the Temple (instead of it supporting her) indicates that the system has become so corrupt that it cannot sink any lower. 

This gives us pause for thought. What does Jesus see when he looks at our society, our care (or lack of care) for the poor, the vulnerable, the homeless? Had Jesus been in the car with me in Beenleigh, would he have commented: “Look how simply they live.” meaning, “how well you and your kind are living”?

What does Jesus see and how is he calling us to respond to the present economic crisis?


[1] Chelsey Harmon points out that the scribes were guilty of taking advantage of widows: 

  • though it was forbidden, many took payment from widows for providing legal assistance;
  • while serving as lawyers, some cheated on the wills or mismanaged the widows’ estates;
  • some scribes were known to take advantage of, and freeload upon, the hospitality offered to them by widows;
  • certain scribes were in the habit of taking payment and promising to make intercessory prayer for widows (i.e., making it a business transaction);
  • and if a widow could not pay, there were known cases where scribes literally took the widow’s home as payment for services rendered,
  • offering to invest their money, then robbing them of it. https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2021-11-01/mark-1238-44-3/

Sacrifice or example – the widow’s mite

November 6, 2021

Pentecost 24 – 2021
Mark 12:38-44
Marian Free

In the name of God who asks only that we love, with heart, soul, mind and strength. Amen.

Some time ago one of my friends read a book titled The Five Languages of Love. She found it utterly enlightening and somewhat liberating. She was frustrated that her husband, on his day off, would mow the lawn because she thought that if he loved her, he would want to spend the day doing things with her. What she hadn’t understood was that in his mind, mowing the lawn was his way of showing his love for her. Love is complex and sometimes complicated. Neediness or possessiveness are sometimes confused as love with devasting effects. On the other hand, selflessness may not be an expression of a healthy relationship. Love is best when it is freely given, out of a strong sense of self.

This morning’s gospel is one with which we are all very familiar. The widow and her two small coins make a good Sunday school lesson and provide excellent material for a sermon on stewardship. However, as we have been observing over the past few weeks, taking a superficial view of any one gospel story is to miss its real meaning. In this case the generosity of the widow is important, but the context of this account reveals that there is a lot more going on in today’s reading than a story of a widow giving two small coins to the Temple treasury.

A clue to deeper meaning of the story lies in the verses that immediately precede Jesus’ observation about the widow’s behaviour. Here, Jesus has launched an apparently unprovoked attack on the arrogance, social ambition, and avarice of scribes who abuse the poor – specifically the widows for whom they had a special duty of care and who were particularly vulnerable. “Beware of the (attention seeking) scribes,” Jesus says, “they are not who they appear to be.” It is specifically these scribes whom Jesus is condemning. A little earlier Jesus had cause to compliment another scribe with whom he had been engaged in debate as to which commandment was the greatest. Jesus’ asserted that the first commandment was: “‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’” To which the scribe responded: “You are right, Teacher; you have truly said that ‘he is one, and besides him there is no other’; and ‘to love him with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and with all the strength,’ is much more important than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices.” Jesus commends and affirms this scribe and tells him that he is not far from the kingdom of God.

There are scribes and there are scribes and apparently not all scribes are deserving of censure. The shallowness and worldliness of the status-seeking scribes is vastly different from the sincerity and wisdom of the questioning scribe who understood that love of God is the heart of the law and that that love is all-consuming; a love that demands all of one’s being, not just a part of it; a love that cannot be represented by the superficial offering of sacrifices in the Temple or by making a show with long prayers. Jesus’ scathing attack on the posturing of the scribes who devour the houses of widows (instead of providing for them as is demanded in the law) is brought into sharp relief by the widow who contributes her two small coins to the treasury.

Given the context, and the juxtaposition between the scribe who recognises love of God as the most important and those who seek status and recognition, it is possible to argue that the account of the widow is less about her self-sacrifice and more about her loving God with heart, soul, mind and strength. That this might be the case is supported by the Greek text. In the NRSV, the version of the Bible that we are use, we read that the woman gave “all that she had to live on”. This phrase translates the Greek word “βιος” or life (think biology). In other words, it is probably more accurate to say that, “she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, her whole life.”

When we make this pericope only about the widow’s sacrifice, we risk adding insult to injury by further disempowering her. Jesus makes it clear that she is in very straightened circumstances – a situation that may well have been caused by self-seeking scribes who had taken payment for legal services (though that was forbidden), or who had mismanaged her estate or who had taken advantage of her situation in other ways. Despite this it seems, the widow is still her own person, a person of faith and integrity, a person in control of her own destiny who can choose to give her whole life and who understands (as did the scribe who engaged Jesus in debate), that love of God – with heart, soul, mind and strength – the giving of one’s whole self, is of much greater value than any amount of “burnt offerings and sacrifices.”

The widow’s self-giving came from the heart and stood in stark contrast with the scribes whose focus was on appearances and with the wealthy who gave to the Temple what they could easily afford. Jesus’ compares the widow’s behaviour with that of the wealthy and of the scribes not to diminish or pity her nor to draw attention to her poverty, but to lift her up as an example of faith and faithfulness, as a model of one who knows exactly what it is to keep the first commandment and who does so willingly and whole-heartedly.

We are all called to love God with heart, soul, mind, and strength. Nothing less will do.

Desolation and despair

June 4, 2016

Pentecost 3 – 2016

Luke 7:11-18

Marian Free

 

In the name of God, who shines light in the darkness, turns despair to hope and raises the dead to life. Amen.

There are a number of images from recent times that are seared into the minds of many of us. For example, think of the desolate picture of an emaciated child who is sitting on his haunches with his head in his hands and beside him is a buzzard just waiting for the child to die. Another picture that has haunted the world in recent times is the heart-wrenching image of young Aylan, the Syrian refugee washed up like flotsam on a lonely beach. Both children were victims of conflicts in which they had no part. Both pictures are confronting images of despair and desolation in a world in which selfishness, greed and a desire for power leads to suffering for the innocent.

I’m not sure that any of us can begin to imagine what it must be like to be a parent in a country devastated by drought or war. We cannot conceive how it must feel to know that we are unable to feed or care for our children. It is impossible to really understand what it must be like to live with the fear that hunger or disease might kill us first and leave our children alone and unprotected in a harsh and uncompromising world. Nor can we envisage the sorts of horrors that lead parents to risk their lives and the lives of their children on dangerous journeys across sea and land.

Few of us will ever know the despair and desolation that characterizes the lives of millions of people throughout the world. Thankfully we will probably never know what it is like to live in on the rubbish tips of Manilla, or to live in constant fear of Isis or Boko Haran. We will not have to live with the constant fear that haunts the slums in countless countries throughout the world. An accident of birth has ensured that we are by and large protected from some of the horrors that are the daily experiences of so many.

Despair and desolation are at the heart of today’s story. It is only in the last century, that women who had no father, husband or son to support them have not faced a life of destitution and isolation. What was true in the memory of some of us was no less true in the first century. A woman without a man in her life was entirely dependent on the charity of others.

In today’s story, Jesus is confronted with a widow who had only one son and now he is dead. She may have had many daughters, but they were no protection against the harshness of the world. If married, they would have been absorbed into their husband’s families. If still at home, they would have been a drain on whatever resources the widow still had.

We know only the bare details of the story. Jesus, for reasons unknown has travelled to Nain. There he observes a funeral procession. Even though the widow is a stranger and the funeral is in full swing Jesus finds himself unable to remain distant and aloof. He “sees[1]” the widow and has compassion on her (and her situation). He interrupts the proceedings and orders the woman not to weep. It is an extraordinary situation. Without invitation, Jesus steps into the woman’s grief and desolation and without being asked he restores the son to life and the child to his mother.

Can you imagine someone entering a church or a chapel at a crematorium and halting the proceedings while at the same time ordering the bereaved not to cry? They would almost certainly have been evicted from the building for being disrespectful and for adding to the family’s distress. This would be equally true in the first century – interrupting a funeral procession and appearing to make light of the widow’s grief would have been social suicide, demonstrating a lack of respect and a failure to understand the gravity of what is going on.

Jesus interrupts anyway. It is almost as if he is compelled to help. He cannot bear to see so much present and potential suffering – especially when he can do something to stop it. Two lives have come to an end – that of the son but also that of the mother. Jesus brings life and hope. He gives a future to the widow and life to her child.

Mass media has made us aware of the enormity of suffering in the world. It is easy to be overwhelmed, to turn off, to feel that there is nothing that we can do to really make a difference. Some issues are so complex that we are at a loss as to how to help we are afraid to interfere in case we make things worse. When suffering does not directly touch our lives, it can be easy to stand aloof – to blame the victim for not doing one thing or another, or for taking a risk that from the comfort of our arm chairs we deem to be to dangerous or unnecessary.

Jesus could not stand apart. While he could not and did not provide hope for every widow in Israel and while he could not and did not heal every Israelite who was suffering from demon possession, disease or infirmity, Jesus did what he could when he could.

You and I cannot, collectively or individually, bring an end to the suffering in the world. We cannot house all the homeless, protect the vulnerable from harm or find a cure for dementia or for cancer. That does not mean that we should do nothing. As followers of Jesus we need to find ways to bring life and hope into situations of desolation and despair. Where we can, we need to disrupt, interrupt the things that are going on around us. By our actions and our words, we need to say that so much suffering should not be the norm.

We need to have the courage to interfere and to challenge the world to follow our lead.

 

[1] In Luke’s gospel, “seeing” has particular significance. Jesus “sees” the whole person, the whole situation.

Who is forced to suffer so that we do not have to???

November 7, 2015

A widow's mite purchased on our recent visit to Palestine.

A widow’s mite purchased on our recent visit to Palestine.

Pentecost 24

The Book of Ruth, Mark 12:38-44

Marian Free

In the name of God whose preference is for the poor and the vulnerable. Amen.

It is no secret that I am a Jane Austen fan. This may have to do with my growing up in an era when the role of women was still considerably constricted. It was not until I reached my teens that mothers began stepping confidently into the work force and I still have vivid memories of a single female friend who, despite having a good job and regular income was obliged to ask my father to be guarantor so that she could obtain a home loan. She may not have felt this way, but even though I was relatively young I felt keenly the humiliation of her experience. The idea that because she was a woman she could not be trusted with something as weighty as a home loan seemed (indeed was) ludicrous.

That said, by the time I came into the world some things had changed for the better. By then the government was providing some sort of support for women who had been widowed and for single mothers who were strong enough to refuse to put their child up for adoption. For centuries prior to that, women without a husband or father to protect them often found themselves in very straightened circumstances[1].

Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility gives an insight into the precarious nature of a woman’s place in the world of the eighteenth century. Mrs Dashwood is the second wife of an older man whose estate is entailed on his son John. When her husband is dying he makes John promise to care for his stepmother and stepsisters. The son promises, but does not take into account his overbearing wife who cannot bear the thought of sharing the estate, or of their only son being deprived of even a modest part of what might become his inheritance. Mrs Dashwood senior and her daughter’s find themselves unwelcome visitors in what up until then had been their family home. They feel sufficiently uncomfortable that they seek to find somewhere else to live, but their allowance will not stretch very far and many suitable house have to be ruled out. Thankfully a distance cousin offers them a small cottage on his estate and so they move (with the few possessions that they can call their own) to a situation far removed from that which they were used to.

The privations do not end there. Even though their cousin is very generous and insists that they eat with his family most evenings, the yearly allowance does not stretch to beef or even sugar. Overnight what had been a privileged and comfortable lifestyle is reversed and the women find themselves utterly dependent on the generosity of others.

The Book of Ruth is set during the time of Judges – approximately 1200-1020 BCE. At this time the majority of Israelites were small landowners and could support themselves through farming. Laws were in place to ensure that the widows and orphans were able to sustain themselves. Not only was it the responsibility of everyone to provide for them, but there was a law to the effect that farmers should exercise a certain amount of carelessness when harvesting. Leviticus 19:9-10 specifically instructs the Israelites to leave the margins of their fields unharvested, to leave behind any produce that fell to the ground and to harvest only once. This ensured that the poor and the aliens could be assured of finding food to eat. They could enter a “harvested” field and glean what had been left behind. It was not an easy existence, but it did provide a way for the poor to support themselves.

Fast forward to the beginning of the first century and we discover a situation that was completely different. With the best will in the world no one could impose the Levitical law universally. At this time many Israelites had been forced off their land so that the Emperor could give gifts to soldiers who had served him well. This meant that there were fewer farms in the hands of the Israelites and therefore fewer people to observe the obligations set down in Leviticus. In the city of course the situation was even worse. It has been said that Israelite women were at this time among the poorest people in the world.

Today’s gospel has often been used to extol the widow for her utter selflessness and to encourage the rest of us to follow her example, but that interpretation misrepresents what is really happening here. When we read the passage in its entirety we see that the story of the widow is a continuation of Jesus’ attack on the scribes. This forces us to observe that Jesus is not complimenting the woman for her generosity; but instead is lamenting the political and social climate that has created a situation in which the widow thinks that she has to give anything at all. The scribes it seems have found a way to convince the poorest and the most vulnerable that God requires demonstrations of their commitment – in the form of donations to the Temple. By insisting on “sacrificial giving” they are in effect, “devouring the estates of the widows”. The poor and the widows should have received support from the Temple, not felt obliged to do the reverse.

By giving her last two coins, the widow has not achieved anything. Her small contribution will not all much to the Temple resources but will certainly deprive herself and any dependents of a future[2].

Jesus’ attack on the scribes suggests that they were more into outward show than they were into meeting their obligations to those who were entirely dependent on their goodwill and generosity. Like all people of wealth and status, the scribes were determined that they should they behave in a way that demonstrated their wealth and power and that they should receive the honour that they believed was owed to someone in their position. At the same time, they were determined to preserve their relative position at all costs – in particular at the expense of those who could least afford it.

The problem then, as it is now, is that one can only maintain one’s own position at the expense of those who have no resources and no position. The gospel challenges us to seriously consider how much we ourselves exploit and disempower the poor and the vulnerable in order to hold on to our status and relative wealth. Who is disadvantaged and oppressed because we refuse to give up our comfortable lives? Whose life is on a knife-edge because we cannot bear to give up our relative luxuries in order to liberate others to do more than eke out an existence?

Who is forced to suffer so that we do not have to?

[1] If you were poor you might, as a woman, have found work as a servant or in the mills, but the novel Tess of the d’Ubervilles demonstrates that even for the rural poor, life could be horrendous for those who had no husband or son to provide for them.

[2] The coin, a lepta, was the least value of the coins of that era and was worth about 6 minutes of an average day’s wage.