by Mike Stavlund
Gospel Reading: Mark 12:38-44
For Sunday, November 11, 2012: Year B—Ordinary 32
Hanging out recently with a friend who grew up Baptist, I was asked if I had heard of the “Lottie Moon Offering”.
Apparently an annual part of his Baptist church life, the memory of the famous missionary was invoked. “Lottie Moon was a missionary to the Chinese. As a famine caused the population to starve, Lottie Moon was so touched by their suffering that she shared her own food with them until she herself also died from hunger.”
This was the setup, and then came the knockout punch: “We're going to pass the plate around now and you give what you feel is appropriate...” Presumably the offering plate made several circuits as the faithful were implored to give and give and give. Will we give everything, just like Lottie Moon?
The Original Lottie
Jesus’ precursor to Lottie Moon shows up right after he successfully evades multiple verbal traps of the religious leaders of the day. Jesus’ opponents are the people all around him (and us) who are concerned with appearances, and with being right. And they are foiled by a powerless lady with a penny.
Jesus sets up a public stake-out across from the place where people give offerings (which seems rather uncool, but we’ve learned to overlook it). He and his cohort watch the people who loved to be watched as they make a showy deposit of a portion of their abundance. They give a lot, but it doesn’t hurt their bottom line very much. Then a poor widow shuffles up and drops in two tiny coins, whereupon she is commended forevermore for her generosity-- she gave a little when that was all she had to give.
That Widow Might be Wrong
I’m no financial wizard, and I’m not one to step on Jesus’ point, but really? That widow has no presumable way to generate any further income, and she is giving the last of her money. Is this really commendable?
I read passages like this, and I think of that joke where the floodwaters rise, but the stalwart man denies help from a car, a truck, a boat, and eventually a helicopter as he sits on the roof of his house, insisting every time that “The Lord will provide”. Shortly after, he arrives at the pearly gates with a pressing question on his mind, to which God answers, “but I sent you the car, the truck, the boat, and the helicopter!”
Jesus is cheering for the widow, but is God the Father cringing and stifling an entreaty, “Don’t give away your last money! I sent you that to live on!”
More than Money
I should give, and give, and give. My money, my time, my talents. To my spouse, my family, my neighbor, my church. But don’t I get to keep anything for myself? If I thought ahead to bring some lunch, shouldn’t I get to eat some of it? If I worked to save some money, can’t I keep some of it for a rainy day, or some eventual infirmity? If I assiduously stockpiled pitchforks and ammo and Dinty-Moore Beef Stew for the zombie apocalypse, can’t I keep them when the dead are resurrected? Or does Jesus intend for me to give of myself and my stuff until there is nothing left? Didn’t Jesus read that bestselling book Boundaries?
The Hardest Question
We see the good reasons for Jesus’ commendation of the widow, but did he mean to build a (sub)culture of maudlin Christians who feel guilty for holding on to a single cent? Is Jesus fleecing the sheep more than some stereotypical Baptist preacher? Just what is dependence upon God supposed to look like?
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Mike Stavlund writes from a 5-car pile-up at the intersection of his Christian faith and real life. A husband of over 15 years and a father of 4 children, he lives with his wife and 3 daughters in a small house outside Washington, DC. He’s a part of an innovative emergence Christian community called Common Table, a co-conspirator with the Relational Tithe, and a proud part of the collective called Emergent Village. He blogs at MikeStavlund.com, and his first book, "Force of Will", will be published by Baker in the Spring of 2013.
