"Seeing"

Sermon by The Rev. Cindy Carter

November 10, 2024

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…”

What can we say about this poor widow and the offering she made? How are we to interpret this small story in Mark’s Gospel?

Well, there seem to be two popular ways for preachers to interpret the story. One is the interpretation that the destitute widow is an ideal symbol for Christian generosity. 

I fear that this interpretation may very well be strongly influenced by the time in which this story appears during the church year. And, I don’t mean near the end of the liturgical season after Pentecost, but rather during the part of the year called “stewardship season” for many churches.  Now, I admit that this interpretation doesn’t feel quite right to me.

First, Jesus doesn’t appear to praise this widow, but rather simply describes what she is doing. Second, to suggest that we all emulate this widow in our giving is probably unrealistic (even for a preacher to ask) because it is unlikely that any of us will give every penny we have. In the end, using this widow as our model may simply serve to condemn us if we don’t give our all, rather than to inspire us to do more.   

Let me say that I am not criticizing preachers who interpret the story with the widow as a model for sacrificial giving. It just doesn’t seem right to me.

A second interpretation shifts the focus from the poor widow a bit to the scribes, who Jesus discusses at the beginning of our reading for today.

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…”

Here Jesus indicts religious leaders, the scribes, who oppress the poor, who “devour widow’s houses.” In this second interpretation, we could say that the scribes should be caring for the poor widow, instead of taking all she has given in the offering box. Perhaps we might go so far as to say that the religious leaders shouldn’t even accept this poor widow’s offering. Indeed, Jesus might say that the widow is giving too much.   

Well, I may think this interpretation fits the scriptural context better, but it still doesn’t feel quite right to me. Because, in the story of the poor widow, Jesus doesn’t condemn the rich for their large gifts, necessarily direct his comment about giving to the religious leaders, or praise the widow for the gift of all she has. Once again, he simply describes what they are doing. 

But, this second possible interpretation doesn’t feel quite right, quite true to me either. 

Working on this sermon has been one of many times when I have experienced a sense of wrestling a text into submission.

And then…and then…

I read a commentary, written by one of my favorite preachers, that included “another way of hearing this (story).” This is what he wrote -

What if Jesus isn’t using her (the widow) as an object lesson; what if Mark isn’t trying to derive from her story a theological argument. Perhaps the narrative point on which this passage turns isn’t the comparisons between her and others, or between her offering and that of others, but rather centers on the… fact that Jesus notices her… whatever it is that he wants his disciples to learn from her, perhaps the first lesson is simply to notice her. To see her. To acknowledge her person, her being, her plight, and her offering. She is not, in the end, an object lesson, but a person. Easily unseen, even invisible, yet worthy of Jesus’ attention, and ours.

And, there it was. That was the interpretation that felt right and true to me.

The first parish I served after seminary was St. Anne’s in Lee’s Summit, Missouri. Lee’s Summit is a city founded in the late 1800s, which is now a large, thriving suburb of the Kansas City Metro area. It is the home to two hospitals, a very large retirement community, and a community college. 

St. Anne’s was a parish founded in the 1990s. When I arrived, it had an average Sunday attendance of around 60, and a very large debt.

As a young (young in years since my ordination, not young in the number of birthdays I had celebrated), young, enthusiastic priest, I was excited when I heard about a possible outreach opportunity for St. Anne’s. It was a program in which we could partner with the food bank in the area, Harvesters, to provide food to food insecure children on week-ends – when they didn’t have free breakfasts and lunches at school. It was called BackSnack and looked much like what Homewood Helps does here.

It wouldn’t cost us anything but time and effort – just the kind of outreach a small church with a big debt needed. Harvesters would deliver to the food to St. Anne’s. We only had to put the food in backpacks, deliver the backpacks to a school on Friday, pick up empty backpacks on Monday, clean them, and repeat. Perfect, I thought.

So, I excitedly presented my brilliant idea to the Vestry. All we needed was a Title One school in Lee’s Summit with which to partner. (Simplified definition: Title One schools have a certain percentage of needy students, typically measured by the percent of students who are eligible for free and reduced lunches.)       

At that meeting, every member of our Vestry looked at me and said – sounds great, but we don’t have any Title One Schools in Lee’s Summit. I quickly replied – well, that may be the case, but can I do a little research? (Let me say that perhaps I should have done more research before my presentation, but any way...a lesson re-learned)

Lo and behold, after doing my research, I found that there was a Title One elementary school just a few miles dowm the street from St. Anne’s. Parishioners at St. Anne’s have been packing Backsnack bags for children in that school weekly for well over a decade now.       

I don’t know about you, but many times I, am like that Vestry. I don’t see those around me because of my lack of knowledge, my ignorance, and not because of any sort of bad intention. But, with a bit more knowledge, that church’s awareness grew and they saw a specific group of hungry children in their community. And, with seeing, they have paid attention to their needs. I hope and pray I can be like them when my awareness needs to be sharpened.

Now, I don’t know about you, but at times it isn’t lack of knowledge that keeps me from seeing others, no, many times I simply refuse to see others or at least I don’t try very hard to see them. Perhaps seeing them will make me uncomfortable, and I don’t like feeling uncomfortable.  Or I refuse to see others, because I am afraid of them, and I don’t like being afraid. 

Or I refuse to see others, because I don’t agree with them and I think they don’t agree with me and, thank you very much, but it’s just better not to truly see them and get too close. Or perhaps most sadly I refuse to see others because of my own arrogance. I assume I know everything that I need to know about a person or group already. Why do I need to see them more deeply?     

The example of Jesus seeing this poor widow in the Temple, perhaps not seen or noticed or seen by anyone else that day, calls me, calls us to see others. It sounds so simple; yet, so many in our world. deeply need that simple gift of being seen.   

I believe Jesus summons us to consciously put ourselves in situations where we can get close enough to people and groups that we can truly see them. Even when we are uncomfortable or afraid or think we know everything already. Not to make them “causes” or object lessons, but to see them as children of God, human beings worthy or our attention, our understanding, and our love.

Who are we not seeing as we go about our daily lives? Who have we forgotten, ignored, or overlooked, that Jesus invites us to notice, to recognize, and to honor?

Jesus sees them, and Jesus calls us to see them, as well. Paraphrasing St. Teresa of Avila, we are the eyes through which Jesus looks with compassion on this world that he created and loves so dearly. May we open both our physical and spiritual eyes and see. 

Amen.