Mission Accomplished?
Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Newton, NJ.
Scripture
Mark 12:38-13:2
As he 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.”
As he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” Then Jesus asked him, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”
Sermon
This morning, I want to situate us a little bit before we read the Gospel lesson.
This morning’s text occurs near the end of Mark’s Gospel. It actually happens after one of the texts we traditionally read on Palm Sunday, when Jesus is led into Jerusalem on a donkey. And here, we meet Jesus at the end of a larger series of events that stretches back a few chapters.
On the opposite side of this series of events, starting off this multi-chapter drama, is a story we might recognize. Jesus, entering the temple with his disciples, sees merchants lined up - selling doves, conducting trade, and exchanging money. If you had a “what would Jesus do” bracelet back in the day, I’d love to know if you did what he does next.
Jesus turns over tables, scattering these merchants, unleashing a scene of absolute chaos with animals and birds and coins flying into the air, sending people fleeing. It’s then, with the dust settling, that Jesus proclaims this: “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’? But you have made it a den of robbers.”
That’s what kicks off this whole series of events, leading us to the bookend of today’s passage. Let’s dig in.
From the Gospel of Mark, chapter 12, beginning in verse 38 and ending in chapter 13, verse 2:
As he 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.”
As he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” Then Jesus asked him, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”
Often, we hear this passage as a moral lesson about generosity. We hold this woman up as some sort of morally virtuous character, and flatten her experience into a moral about giving. We sneak a blessing into Jesus’ mouth, sometimes assuming that he’s giving her a pat on the back for being so generous. But… if you look closely… really closely… there’s no such praise. In fact, the Gospel writer sneaks in a detail that suggests Jesus isn’t pleased by this generosity, but rather aggrieved and saddened to witness it.
In today’s passage, the writer refers to this woman as a “poor widow.” And though it might be lost on our modern understanding, there’s significance to her being not just a widow, but a poor widow. Because God meant for it to be an oxymoron.
Woven throughout the Hebrew Scripture are commands about protecting and caring for widows and orphans. Caring not in a disembodied spiritual sense, but caring for their physical, material, holistic wellbeing. The book of Leviticus says this: “If any of your kin fall into difficulty and become dependent on you, you shall support them; they shall live with you as though resident aliens. Do not take interest in advance or otherwise make a profit from them, but fear your God.” The law also commanded that tithing be distributed to widows and orphans, not for them to merely survive, but as Deuteronomy says, “so that they may eat their fill.” Again and again and again, God tells the Hebrew people that their mission is to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, free the oppressed, and to care for the destitute. There can be no poor widows in the household of God. And yet, what does Jesus see? A poor widow, in the temple, giving her last coins to a bloated treasury instead of being cared for.
The temple was beautiful. The pageantry was perfectly staged. Religious leaders had long robes and beautiful stoles. Mission accomplished? A beautiful, well-oiled religious institution? A manicured grounds and financial security?
Well, for Jesus, this poor widow was the last straw. That’s when we hear his voice ring out. “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”
There was no reason for the temple to exist. Its mission was far gone, far lost, far forgotten. What was the point anymore?
“In today’s passage, the writer refers to this woman as a ‘poor widow.’ And though it might be lost on our modern understanding, there’s significance to her being not just a widow, but a poor widow. Because God meant for it to be an oxymoron. ”
Let me tell you a story, one that will show us what missing the point—and rediscovering the point—looks like. It takes place in Pawnee, Indiana, a fictional city in the midwest, and the setting of the 2010s’ hit NBC sitcom, Parks and Recreation.
Meet Leslie Knope, a dedicated employee of her local municipal government. She breathes, eats, and sleeps small government affairs, and every waking second of her life is dedicated to living out her mission of service.
One day, she decides to work with her colleague to plan the high school’s model U.N. event. In model U.N., every student gets to serve as a mock representative to the United Nations, where they work to solve a scenario. After all the paperwork is done, and students are about to begin, Leslie Knope reminds the students with a bright, cheery smile, “Only you can solve the urgent global hunger crisis. Most importantly, don’t forget to have fun!”
But Leslie, she starts to get sidetracked. She uses the day as a photo op for her city council candidacy. She ignores her colleagues. She starts letting her personal feelings get in the way.
And then… she gets into an argument with her city government colleague. In a fit of frustration, Leslie announces that her nation, Denmark, will be going to war against that colleague, the nation of Peru. Soon enough, the globe descends into a geopolitical nightmare, with Egypt trading tigers for fighter jets, embargos punishing countries, and even a representative declare a treaty with the moon. Finally, the security council decides to expel everyone and end the model U.N. early. A student then tells Leslie, “Thanks a lot. You’ve ruined my favorite club.”
Leslie forgot the mission. She forgot her values and her calling to serve others. Though she didn’t intend to, and had no ill-will, Leslie wasn’t faithful to her vocation and what she was really there to do.
We, too, know what that’s like. For those of us who have spent any amount of time in a church, we know the struggle. We’re human! Sometimes, we can’t always choose what preoccupies us, whether it’s big stuff or small stuff. That’s why everything we do together—whether it’s hammering out a budget or maintaining our building—must be brought into focus through our mission and calling as the Church. Like Leslie Knope, we must be refocused time and time again, week after week, on what really matters to God. It took Leslie looking into the eyes of a student—the very person she is called to serve—to be gobsmacked by the mission she was called to do. We must look into the eyes of neighbors and friends and strangers—and yes, we must look into the eyes of our enemies, too—because in doing so, we step out of our heads and into a Gospel that has hands and feet and a heartbeat.
But what about the big stuff? Money. Politics. Authority. Theology. All of these things matter to us and to God. Absolutely. But putting our trust into those things will always leave us empty. Those things are not ends unto themselves, but are in service to the mission and ministry God has put before us. The treasury of the temple was there in part to serve the widows and orphans. The Jewish religious leaders were there, in part, to shepherd and guide their people into wholeness. Their money, their authority, all of it was there for the mission of God.
We gather as the Church of Christ Jesus, not to consolidate our power or riches into an institution for the sake of doing so, but for the healing of the world and mission of God on earth. If we let it, this Gospel text might shake the cobwebs off our hearts, lift us into trust, and recommit us to the joy and hope and love that Jesus infuses into every corner of this world.
“We must look into the eyes of neighbors and friends and strangers—and yes, we must look into the eyes of our enemies, too—because in doing so, we step out of our heads and into a Gospel that has hands and feet and a heartbeat.”
Leslie Knope, after being confronted by this student, ultimately realized her mistake and decided to do something about it. She invites the students to city hall, where upon flinging open the doors of the council chambers, reveals a room draped with flags of every kind. Leslie organized a model U.N. extravaganza for the whole state of Indiana, and these students were going to lead the entire weekend.
Like Leslie, each and every week, we have the chance to do something, to return ourselves to the mission and heart of God. Worship is where that begins, of course, but that’s not the end. When we hold fast to the mission of God, we understand that coffee hour can be a vehicle for care and hospitality and connection. We understand that a hug on Sunday morning might be the only physical touch someone receives in their week. We understand that youth are ministers today, not someday down the road. We understand that singing together is where we might be healed by God. We can live out the vocation and calling that God has placed within us and the Church through every part of this church community. Because when we are centered and aligned with God’s mission and calling, the ordinary becomes the vehicle for the profound.
That might tempt us to feel like the bar is set too high, or like our small acts don’t make a difference. Fortunately, we hear Jesus share words of hope. “Do you see these great buildings?” Jesus says. “Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” There is no stone, no fortress, no terror, no red tape that will prevent the mission of God from unfolding. There is nothing—nothing on earth or in heaven—that God will allow to shackle the Church or confine the hope of the gospel. The Church of Christ cannot be bound, nor the love of God be fettered. The mission of God is big, but God will move mountains to carry it out. God will take faith the size of a mustard seed, and grow it into an ecosystem of hope. We just have to plant the seeds. Water the saplings. And take the next faithful step one at a time.
This all begs the question. What is our mission? Or more technically, what is God’s mission? This morning’s affirmation of faith will give the Presbyterian answer to that question. But I think a passage from Isaiah might paraphrase God’s mission, too, or at least part of it.
“Is not this the fast that I choose:
to loose the bonds of injustice,
to undo the straps of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
and to break every yoke?
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry
and bring the homeless poor into your house?” (Isaiah 58)
“The mission of God is big, but God will move mountains to carry it out. God will take faith the size of a mustard seed, and grow it into an ecosystem of hope. We just have to plant the seeds. Water the saplings. And take the next faithful step one at a time.”
First Presbyterian Church of Newton, New Jersey, is ready to not only live into that mission, but to be a beacon of it. To light the way in loosening the bonds of injustice, undoing burdens, and bringing housing to the houseless. There’s food drives, children’s faith formation, intergenerational choir, service projects, and many, many, many other ministries. There’s more than enough love to go around, and there’s more than enough bread to share.
Today, I don’t have a heavy, ponderous charge to give this community. All I have are words of blessing and a little high five. After all, you all are voting on me today.
The mission and calling of God to this church is stronger than anything we feel today. God’s movement in Newton and Sussex County isn’t bound by our fears, or relief, or numbness, or uncertainty, or optimism. And I believe that this church, deep in its bones, for decades upon decades, is not committed to institutional preoccupation, but to that mission and calling that lives in the heart of God. This church won’t let its mission be sidetracked by long robes and long stoles. Even still, we know that we won’t bring this mission to perfection, or fulfill every dream in our lifetime. The mission is never fully accomplished. And that’s a beautiful, joyful thing. Because it means God will never be finished with us or Christ’s Church; and we have the chance to be “prophets of a future not our own.” [1]
Thanks be to God. Amen.
References
Sung Soo Hong, “Commentary on Mark 12:38-44”, WorkingPreacher.org, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-32-2/commentary-on-mark-1238-44-7
[1] “Prophets of a Future Not Our Own,” United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, https://www.usccb.org/prayer-and-worship/prayers-and-devotions/prayers/prophets-of-a-future-not-our-own
