November 12, 2006 Sermon
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Proper 27 – B
November 12, 2006 Allan Conkling
With readings like today I can almost hear the sounds of bodies slouching in the pews! Oh great, another stewardship sermon! Worshippers all across the country this morning will be bracing themselves for the inevitable call to “dig deeper” and “give more” in light of the widow who gave her two copper coins. Well there is there is something to be said for another reminder that we are still working on our budget—and if you haven’t yet filled in a pledge card we’d love to have you do so. But in reality the readings for this day are not about money at all. Instead they are about the exercise of power and control.
I have read sociologists and psychologists who say that all life is about power and control, and when you think about that makes sense. Every species on the planet is locked in an eternal battle to either gain power, establish dominance, to keep that power, or else to wrest the power from those who are currently in power. Life is all about eating or being eaten. The heroes we adore radiate power: the rich and influential; the most attractive, the strongest, and those with the most money. Our elections last week were all about power and control. In the world of politics as in real life, winning is everything, and losers walk away with nothing.
With that in mind, what makes the readings for today interesting, and so challenging, is that the heroes are not the ones with power. They are the power-less.
There is an old story from the Buddhist tradition about a power hungry monk who thought he could improve his status and power by seeking it on his own. One day he bid farewell to his brothers in the monastery, crossed a great river and went to a cave high in the hills all by himself. There he meditated, day and night, non-stop for twenty five years. At the end of that time he emerged from the cave full of power. He stretched his arms above his head in a grand gesture and made his way down to the river. Without stopping he stepped out on the water and proceeded to walk across it toward the monastery he had left years before. Two monks who were doing their laundry that morning saw him coming across the river. “Who is that?” asked the first monk. The second said, “That is the man who has spent 25 years meditating in a cave. Look at him! He has the power to walk on water!” “What a shame” said the first. “Someone should have told him he could take the ferry, and it only costs a quarter.”
The Bible has few kind words for people who flaunt their status, position, or get to the top at the expense of those who are below. The biblical world view is topsy-turvy. Jesus said it was the first becoming last, and the last being first. St. Benedict described this as a ladder going heavenward—but with each step taking us downward and further away from ourselves. The widow and the coins is a symbol for humility, of sacrificial living contrasted with the arrogance and prideful attitude of the religious authorities. Her gift was everything, “all she had to live on.” The Greek word used is bios, that is, her life. Her gift was to hold nothing back from God. Placed as it is in the context of the final week of Jesus’ life, the woman’s sacrifice is a foreshadowing of the ultimate sacrifice which Jesus is about to make.
So what does this mean for us today? William Barkley once said that it is the tragedy of modern life,
“that there is so often some part of our lives, some part of our activities, some part of ourselves which we do not give to Christ Somehow there is nearly always something we hold back. We rarely make the final sacrifice and the final surrender”.
The question could be asked, what part of our lives are we holding back from God? What part are we keeping for ourselves, separate from God? Are we like the arrogant monk who tries to do everything by his own power? Do we try doggedly to keep control of our lives? Do we blindly insist on our way and on being in control, when we could open our eyes and see a better way?
The Christian journey of faith calls the believer to live less and less for her/himself and more and more for others. For some it will mean simplifying or re-prioritizing life as we know we need to. For others it will mean less and less trust in the things of this world. For us all it will be transferring the love of things to the love of God.
This is an impossible task! Yet at every Eucharist we are reminded that we don’t have to make the journey alone. We can offer ourselves not counting the cost, as we rely on God’s grace to enable us to live life to its fullest. This is our call: to live fully, love abundantly, and be all we can be in Gods sight. Less than enough can indeed be more than enough.
All things
are thine, no gift have we,
Lord of all gifts to offer thee.
And hence,
with grateful hearts today
Thine own before thy feet we lay. (Hymnal 1940, # 227)
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Revised: 11/22/06