This message was preached at Mount View Presbyterian Church in Omaha, NE, on November 10, 2024.
My favorite stories of all time are told by J.R.R. Tolkien in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy. The main characters in the two stories, Bilbo Baggins in The Hobbit and his nephew Frodo Baggins in the Lord of the Rings, are from a race of people called “Hobbits.” They were a short people, too short to mount and ride a standard horse, who lived in a tranquil, almost Edenic part of the fictional land known as “Middle Earth” called “The Shire.” They were a peaceful race enjoying fine tobacco in their pipes, several meals a day (including second breakfast), and well-tended gardens. They were relatively untouched by the evils and political strife in faraway lands like the Misty Mountains, Mirkwood Forest (where there are spiders), and the dark fortress of Sauron in Mordor. They are however fascinated by the Elves who live in those faraway places, as they will sometimes pass through the Shire on their way to the Sea.
They are the quintessential “home bodies,” with a great distaste for adventure and conflict. In spite of this, Bilbo and Frodo are destined to become legends in the great battles against the evil forces that want to take over, dominate, and pillage Middle Earth in their greed and desire for power. Fourteen dwarves show up at Bilbo’s “hole-home” in the Shire one evening and hire him to be their “burglar,” who’s job would be to go into the dragon Smaug’s lair under The Lonely Mountain and retrieve their most prized possession and recapture their home under the mountain. Along the way, Bilbo finds a ring, which happens to be THE ring of power that would be passed on to Frodo, who would after an arduous journey, destroy the ring of power in Mount Doom and thus rid Middle Earth of the Evil Sauron forever.
I love these stories because they show how “the least of us” can have a powerful impact for good in a world seemingly dominated by the wealthy, the politically powerful, and those with great military might or cunning. Many brave, strong, and noble men, elves, and dwarves longed to destroy this power. The problem for Sauron was, he only feared the collective strength of these mighty men, so he was always ready to confront and attack the armies of good. He never suspected that two little Hobbits from the Shire would carry that ring of power right into the heart of his kingdom and cast that ring into the fiery lava of Mount Doom where it was forged.
In our Gospel passage today, we see a stark contrast between the wealthy, self-righteous people, including the religious leaders, and a poor widow who gives two copper coins. For whatever reason, the religious leaders in Jesus’s day had fallen into the “social-status” trap, and they were oppressing the people with a legalistic and inflated “tithe” (two- to three-times a regular tithe), which in some cases may have forced widows to sell their homes just to pay this inflated tithe along with the Roman taxes. In our day, some politicians might call that a “wealth tax,” or a “tax on unrealized gains.” But the religious leaders apparently didn’t care whether you had the cash to cover it. They just wanted their cut, and if they had to “devour widows’ houses” to do it, sobeit.
Herod’s Temple in that day seems to have been an ostentatious place with extravagant decorations. One later tradition claims there were 13 receptacles in the Court of Women where male and female visitors could place their offerings. I do find it to be a bit “curmudgeony” of Mark (and Jesus) to tell us that Jesus sat opposite the tithe collection area while the rich walked around making a big show about their giving and perhaps even their judging about how much certain people might be putting in. He certainly was NOT in a seat of honor; he was just hanging out with his disciples people-watching.
Amidst all the finery the temple and the religious leaders were adorned with, Jesus is looking out for something quite the opposite. What catches his eye? A widow, humbly dressed in old, probably slightly worn clothing (perhaps her best outfit) who approaches one of the fancy offering receptacles, probably worth more than all that woman’s earthly possessions, who deposits two of the smallest coins available, barely worth a nickel. Was she thinking about how the religious leaders seemed to be spending more on themselves than they did the poor? Was she worried about what others who saw her might think about her and her seemingly meager contribution? Was she even worried about her future if she was giving all she had?
My guess is no, she wasn’t concerned about any of that. Her only thought in that moment, at least as Jesus implies, is that she was putting her whole trust in God. Just like the woman with the bleeding condition who reached out just to touch the hem of Jesus’s garment and was healed, this woman reasoned that God would provide for her needs. When you’re down to nothing, the only thing left is faith or despair. She chose faith. We don’t know anything else about this woman’s history, but I’m guessing she must have had an amazing story to part with whatever worldly wealth she had left. She must have some life experience that affirmed her faith. This was the greatest gift she could have given within her means.
This woman understood the concern for the poor in the Old Testament. She knew the promise of Psalm 23:1: “The Lord is my shepherd, I have everything I need.” She understood that God “satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things (Psalm 107:9) when “they cry out to the Lord in their trouble” (vs. 6). She counted on the faithfulness of others who practiced the principles of Isaiah 58:7: to “Share [their] food with the hungry and provide the poor wanderer with shelter.” That chapter in Isaiah may be the basis for the passage in Matthew about not hiding your lamp under a basket but putting it on a stand to give light to the whole world.
Our OT passage this morning, Psalm 146, is pretty clear that caring for the poor and needy is the primary responsibility of the people of God. The psalmist says, “Don’t put your trust in princes…who cannot save.” Like Jehoshaphat in the OT who put the choir out in front of the army as that went out to battle, and in so doing threw the enemy into such confusion that they destroyed themselves, so here in Psalm 146 the psalmist puts praise first: “Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord, my soul. I will praise the Lord all my life; I will sing praise to my God as long as I live.” The power of praise is immeasurable.
The woman in the gospel story saw her giving, her gift, as a means of praising God. She was expressing thanks with a monetary gift, but I don’t doubt that she knew the psalms of praise as well. She knew how singing or reciting those psalms made her feel in her spirit. She knew how God supported those who felt oppressed or beaten down by a system corrupted by greedy leaders who cared more about rules than about the people they demanded obedience from.
This woman may have heard of Jesus at the time, but she may not have had the same level of knowledge or understanding of who Jesus is or what he came to accomplish as his disciples. After the resurrection the author of Hebrews describes Jesus’s ministry in this way:
24 For Christ did not enter a sanctuary made with human hands that was only a copy of the true one; he entered heaven itself, now to appear for us in God’s presence. 25 Nor did he enter heaven to offer himself again and again, the way the high priest enters the Most Holy Place every year with blood that is not his own. 26 Otherwise Christ would have had to suffer many times since the creation of the world. But he has appeared once for all at the culmination of the ages to do away with sin by the sacrifice of himself. 27 Just as people are destined to die once, and after that to face judgment, 28 so Christ was sacrificed once to take away the sins of many; and he will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who are waiting for him.[1]
Giving is an act of worship. When we give to the work of the kingdom of God, we participate in the work of the kingdom of God. We give because Christ has given his all. It’s not that we could ever give enough to repay him for that. We can’t. There’s not enough money in the world. That’s what this passage from Hebrews says. Christ went ahead of us to prepare a place for us in heaven. Christ is interceding for us even now as we minister for him on earth.
Christ’s death and resurrection is central to two of the sacraments we hold most dear: Communion and baptism. Communion brings us to the table at Christ’s invitation to remember his body and the covenant in his blood. Baptism connects us to the body and blood of Christ through the symbolism of death, burial, and resurrection. Giving keeps the ministry of the local church and the church at large “solvent” so we can continue to share the good news of Jesus in our communities and around the world.
The author of Hebrews emphasizes that Christ’s sacrifice was once for all. That was his greatest gift to us. Earlier in Hebrews 6, the author warns about recrucifying Christ if we try to “repent” again. The point the author is making that we only need to repent once. In other words, we only need to admit Christ is Lord once. After that, the goal of the Christian life should be to grow into a mature relationship with Christ where you’re not stuck eating “baby food” all the time. At some point, the author of Hebrews expects you get into the meat and potatoes of the Christian walk and become mature. In other words, the answer for backsliding or falling away from living a faithful Christian life is not to repent again, but recommit yourself to maturity.
Part of this maturity is recognizing the second time Jesus comes, not to be put on a cross again, but win the final victory over sin and death and usher us into his eternal home. What a glorious day that will be. Of course, we don’t know when that will happen. Some days lately it seems like that event may be closer than we think. The other days not so much. Our job isn’t to figure out when: our job is to be ready for when it does happen.
Like Bilbo and Frodo, we must walk the walk with courage, strength, and trust in God, all gifts that he imparts to us, especially in the more difficult times. Our ministry of giving is just as important as our ministry of sharing the gospel, of taking communion together as a body, and of baptizing and welcoming new members of the kingdom into our midst. We want that final day to see large throngs welcoming us into our eternal home. May God forever be praised. Amen.
[1] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.
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