Notice the widow. When this widow puts in everything she has, she is casting in her life, her livelihood. The word here for the cast is the same word used for fishermen casting their nets, the sower casting seeds, or the guards casting lots for Jesus’ clothing in the Gospels. The word casting here means to “give over to one’s care uncertain of the result.” She went all in her giving.
Unlike the widow of Zarephath in 1 Kings, this woman has no assurance that she can make it. She has no certainty of her future. The two widows we meet today act very differently. The widow of Zarephath is very aware of her mortality and is vocal about protecting her scarce resources. It is after Elijah promises she will be fed that she agrees to share her food. Although we don’t hear from the widow in the temple, we do know that she is poor and that she has thrown everything that she had into the temple treasury.
But it is clear in the Gospel account that Jesus is frustrated and extremely disillusioned with the religious establishment. Jesus has triumphantly entered the city, cursed a fig tree, angrily turned over the moneychangers’ table in the temple, argued with religious leaders, and now…now he warns about those wearing the long robes and love public flattery and long prayers (sermons?) . He observes how those with power abuse their power for favoritism, social capital, and privilege at the expense of the least of society. In this case, a poor widow; notice the widow.
Jesus watches as the temple ‘devours her house’ while others contribute large sums that they will barely miss. Some interpreters surmise that Jesus is furious at the teaching of a system that has caused this woman to believe she must sacrifice. How angry we become when institutions and systems take advantage of the poor and marginalized.
Martin Luther railed against the medieval practice of selling indulgences that peddled salvation to the masses to build cathedrals. We see examples today of pastors who fly in expensive jets while urging contributions from those on fixed incomes. These are extreme examples, but we might also consider how we participate in systems or practices that overlook the poor or marginalized for our safety and security. We are complicit in an American empire and politics that protect the powerful. In the words of today’s Psalm: “[God] gives justice to those who are oppressed, and food to those who hunger. The Lord sets the captive free. The Lord opens the eyes of the blind; the Lord lifts those who are bowed down; the Lord loves the righteous. The Lord cares for the stranger; the Lord sustains the orphan and widow, but frustrates the way of the wicked.”
Often the poor widow is preached as a model for stewardship and giving; it is common for many to praise how giving and generous those who have little give of themselves and their possessions at least in proportion to what they have, but one writer cautions, in interpreting this text, we “must not be guilty of the thing that Jesus criticizes, that is, asking the most of the least.” Can our widow be a hero and a victim at the same time? Can she be a model for ‘going all in’ for faith and also a martyr to a broken system? There is no doubt that the widow displays extreme faithfulness and a defiant hope for justice and for God’s providing. We can say that she is a picture of extremes, representing the most marginalized and the most generous all at once. She is a reminder of the great sacrifice that Jesus will make on the cross.
What the widow can model for us is hopefulness in the face of oppression and despair. The widow is the emblem of giving because she knows how God’s goodness of the oil does not give out. In the reading from 1 Kings, the widow of Zarephath knows the promise that “the jar of meal will not be emptied and the jug of oil will not fail.” The widow’s giving is a sign of defiant hope.
When Nancy Moriarty moved to Sacramento in 1961 from Chicago, IL, she lived in an apartment at Marconi and Watt. Without a car and a single mother to Barbara, she would gather, wash, and iron the priest’s long robes from the church. She loved reading and gave away hundreds of books to children, mentored and taught children to read such much that the Whitney Avenue Elementary School library was named in her honor. She always found ways to give to food closets. I still recall vividly her dropping off delicately made individually decorated cupcakes by the trays that were taken down to Loaves and Fishes to be given for lunch to the unhoused and handmade knit warm caps for Mercy Pedelars to provide to anyone cold on the street. Nancy’s life of faith and service is a witness to a God whose giving knows no ending in life and death.
Perhaps you too have had your commentaries and listened to commentaries of a decisive election this past week trying to understand and make sense of what the election is telling us about our country and our lives. One voiced by David Axelrod and others this past week was that there is a growing sense in the country of many not feeling heard or seen by political leaders and feeling disenfranchised especially in “flyover counties or states” as some have dubbed parts of the nation.
Jesus, observes and verbalizes all that he sees with the disciples following and listening. And Jesus says to watch out for those overly pious scribes in long robes with their loud prayers. Look at that sacrificial widow with her copper coins. Check out the oblivious wealthy contributors. This temple scene could easily describe our politics and religion today, with a variety of people, imperfect humans in an imperfect system.
I don’t know that I believe that we are always supposed to be like the widow. Jesus certainly doesn’t say that here. When we respond in faith, sometimes it looks pious or meager or disproportionate and then sometimes it looks like pouring out all that we have. But what Jesus does do here is call the disciples to pay attention. He brings awareness to how the actions of everyone affect the community at large. He points out those who go all in, those who take advantage, and those who are clueless.
In the movie Lady Bird, the main character is a young woman who is finding her way in life as she contemplates moving away from her home in Sacramento to college in New York. A nun at her all-girls Roman Catholic High School in Sacramento comments on one of her entrance essays, “It is clear that you love Sacramento.” LadyBird casually replies, “I guess I pay attention.” The nun asks, “Don’t you think they’re the same thing? Love and attention?” Conversely, counseling with someone struggling with their relationship this past week, they shared how hard it is to love because of so many distractions.
Although Jesus is frustrated in the temple, his attention to everyone in the room expresses a great love. His attention and emotion communicate that everyone in the room is worthy of this great love, even in their failings.
We can easily become frustrated with our nation, our politics, our church, and other people, with our lack of investment and involvement. But we are all here in this place together, bound by the self-giving nature of God in Christ. Whatever our motives or purposes, with Christ as high priest we learn a defiant faith that despite all odds – even death, we still find a way to give, to sing, to share, and to love. We have the great fortune and the great responsibility of the light of God shining through our lives and giving attention and love to one another. And we have the promises and blessings of God that will never tire of justice and never ceases to provide for us.
As we gather at the table, let us notice and celebrate the daily sacrifices of our siblings in Christ. Let us ensure that we do not ask the most or the least. Let us watch out for the powerful who seek to devour yet notice the vulnerable; notice the widow. May we continue to grow in faithfulness to our God, our country, and to one another. Amen.
