Discover more from The Cottage
Today is the Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost.
There are two Sundays left in the Christian year. Advent, the FIRST season in the Christian year, begins on December 1.
I announced the Advent theme a couple of weeks ago as Advent, a Season of Justice and Joy. Even with recent events, the theme remains the same. But there is one small tweak — an added question mark: Advent, a Season of Justice and Joy?
The four Sundays of Advent will be for the entire community. The daily Advent “windows” will be for paid subscribers only. There will be a few special events as announced throughout the month.
Make sure to scroll to the bottom of today’s post for news about 1) the Southern Lights conference, 2) a new Convocation Unscripted podcast, 3) an upcoming free Faith & Democracy event in Atlanta on November 17, and 4) a reminder for paid subscribers about Ruining Dinner.
That seems like a lot. Please don’t feel overwhelmed with content. There are no gold stars for attendance at The Cottage!
Watch, read, or listen to what speaks to your heart and whatever you find most helpful. Think of this as a spiritual buffet. 🙂
The Cottage is completely independent — there are no sponsors, ads, grants, or institutional backers. The only financial support comes from appreciative readers.
Please consider becoming a paid subscriber of The Cottage. Thank you. I’m grateful for your support.
Mark 12:38-44
As Jesus taught, he said, “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.”
He sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury.
Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny.
Then he called his disciples and said to them, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. 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.”
PRAYER
God of fierce justice, you close the mouth of those who devour the poor and hide behind their prayer: humbled by the giving of those who have so little let us live from your abundance; through Jesus Christ, the judgement of God. Amen.
Today’s gospel reading has been traditionally known as the story of “the widow’s mite.” It is nearly always read in conjunction with stewardship season in mainline churches. And this passage about the widow is also nearly always interpreted in the exact same way — that God blesses those with little who give generously and isn’t pleased by rich cheapskates.
Moral of the story? Be like the poor widow. Give, maybe even beyond your means, to the church fundraising campaign. You know, cheerful giver and all that.
Several years ago, this passage came up in the lectionary when I was a guest preacher at a large mainline congregation. I struggled with what to say. I knew I didn’t want to go with the conventional take on the story.
As I grappled with the text, a question I’d never considered struck me: What if the widow wasn’t just a nice old lady?
The story actually has two parts — even if most sermons focus only on the second half. The entire selection says two things about widows. The first is about widows in general; the second is about this specific widow.
This reading also says two things about the elite rich (the “scribes”). The first is about the scribes in general; and the second is about some particular scribes (the “rich people”) who put money into the Temple treasury.
In the first half of the text, Jesus condemned the elite for their ostentatious display of wealth, demands for respect, rights of privilege be recognized, and the insistence that their social status be publicly rewarded. In his litany of complaints against them, Jesus specifically pointed out one of the scribes’ unjust business practices: “They devour widows’ houses.”
In other words, the scribes cheated widows out of their property.
It is true that scribes were important, even necessary, in this society. They were the educated class and worked in learned professions, primarily as lawyers. It was typical for a man to appoint a scribe to oversee his estate when it passed to his widow. It certainly isn’t hard to imagine that, in a society where women had no legal power, corrupt lawyers, estate managers, and bankers would enrich themselves by “devouring” the houses of widows. And the widows would have no recourse against any misdoings. Women both depended on them and were at their mercy.
Jesus’ comment seems to indicate that financial malpractice against widows was a regular practice of the scribes whom he denounced.
The second half of the passage zooms in from a general condemnation of the elite to a particular incident involving them. In this part of the story, Jesus observed a crowd contributing money to the Temple treasury. Archeologists believe that the treasury was located in the Court of the Women, the furthest point in the Temple where women were permitted to go.
The rich were making quite a show of their donations when this poor widow arrived and put in two copper coins, together worth less than a penny.
Jesus criticized the wealthy and praised her.
Who was she? What was her story? We don’t know anything except her husband was dead and she was of no means. Why was she so poor?
Was this particular widow a victim of elite corruption? Had her house been devoured by one of the rich lawyers in that crowd?
Maybe she came to the treasury in protest. There, at the very least, she knew she’d get the attention of the pillars of society. After all, this was the sacred space where women could publicly plead and pray — the Court of the Women, the physical place where she would be nearer to the Holy, the One who is the Giver of Justice.
Maybe she was trying to make a point. You rich people have taken everything else from me — in your finery, with all your privilege and power. I’ve got nothing left. Take this. Choke on this, you thieves. Lord, have mercy! Defend my cause!
And then, instead of letting her corrupt lawyers and greedy bankers take her very last penny, she threw her final mite — the little that remained — into the Temple treasury where they couldn’t touch it. She gave her last to God instead of them.
She had nothing to live on anyway because everything had been stolen. In the Court of the Women, she shamed her oppressors and threw herself on God. And, while they made a show of their wealth, she made a show of their injustice.
Yes, she gave out of her poverty. She was poor. Most likely at the hands of greedy elite. She wasn’t meek. She was enraged.
And Jesus approved.
SOUTHERN LIGHTS ELECTION WEEK SPECIAL
We’ve extended the discount until November 12.
Come to St. Simons Island, Georgia in January (or join us virtually) for Southern Lights, a yearly gathering hosted by me and Brian McLaren. Our theme this January is Reimagining Faith and Democracy — and we’re going to continue exploring faith and democracy no matter the results of November 5.
This year, we’ll be joined by guests Robert P. Jones, Jacqui Lewis, Dante Stewart, and Mihee Kim-Kort as well as great musicians!
CLICK HERE for information and registration.
Enter This Code — SLVote24 — and get a 20% discount on registration through November 12th!
INSPIRATION
You will not need kindling.
I think I’ll go up quick
as summer timber, my anger
big and dry as a plantation
that dreams of being paper:
the updraft already made
in the canopy, and heading down.
Bring your axe to split me
into parts that you can stack
over the dry leaves, over the coals:
my old coat and my bedding box,
the things given to me by women.
You’ve heard of spontaneous human
combustion. They say it’s fat:
once lit, it flares so white-hot fast
the bones give in.
Make your touch-paper long.
Spread the word that the crowd
who will gather should stand
well back. I am coated
in the accelerant of men:
my craving for their good necks,
their bodies in button-downs
crisp as a new book.
As you douse the embers
I will smell like ground elder
choking the cemetery —
roots looping up
out of dead women’s mouths,
a problem thing
you’ll never get cleared.
Make the stake thick, the bonds
stiff on my innocent wrists.
Burn me the same way
you burned her: do it
because we took the plain
thoughts from our own heads
into the square, and spoke.
— Claire Askew, “How to burn a woman”
I am not a woman to be trifled with. I am a force to be reckoned with,
a warrior for justice and equality.
— Sojourner Truth
From the Convocation Unscripted
Two days after the election, the Convocation gang recorded a live podcast with our reactions to Tuesday’s events. This two-minute clip best summarizes what I am thinking at this moment, especially regarding Christian nationalism.
You can watch the entire program below:
NEWS
Tripp Fuller and I will be Ruining Dinner — our freewheeling religion and politics pod — on TUESDAY, November 12.
This will be the ONE WEEK post-election hangover edition. Ruining Dinner is for paid subscribers only — the link will be sent to paid subscribers on Tuesday morning. The SAME link works for both attending the broadcast LIVE and to WATCH LATER on YouTube.
I am not a woman to be trifled with. I am a force to be reckoned with,
a warrior for justice and equality.
— Sojourner Truth
What a wonderful "up-ending" of this parable! Jesus must have occasionally seen his own mother enraged by injustice in her village. The injustice of doctors who took the money for unjust medical practice; the injustice of grown sons/daughters who failed to "honor" parents who were dependent on their children in their old age; the Roman injustices toward the oppressed Jewish population. Thank you for having us think more widely about this parable! Sister Karlyn, Milwaukee, WI