Fidelity and Hospitality

Mark 12:38-44; Ruth 3:1-5

 

        In the text this morning, three women, two named and one unnamed, are defined as righteous. Ironically, all three are widows, all three are poor, one is a resident alien and each understands fidelity and hospitality as essential tenants in one’s relationship with God.

Let’s begin with the unnamed widow in the Gospel of Mark. During Stewardship season I can’t imagine a more popular example flowing from pulpits all over America. “This woman gave everything she had.” Ministers take that line and do what we do best.  We explain to you what Jesus was really thinking. 

Some of my colleagues will cease on this text as an opportunity to make you feel GUILTY because if we make you guilty enough, you might succumb to any request. The guilt sermon goes as follows.

Look at this poor woman. She has been deserted by her culture. Even her family has abandoned her. She has nothing, except two coins. She had planned to use them for one last meal but then she thought, “The Lord has a use for them.” She placed her coins in the offering plate. She gave everything she had to God. In light of her sacrifice, how can we who have been so blessed, not return a portion of our abundance to God. The Almighty doesn’t want it all but don’t you think God deserves more than our measly two cents.

A generation ago that sermon was a killer. Many a church budget was supported by pleas of guilt of which had as their mantra give till it hurts.

Well times have changed. Guilt is not as motivating a factor it once was. Folks long for a different massage from the high holy places. And we ministers, if nothing else, are flexible. The new approach has been the widow gave everything she had, and God blessed her.  The common name for this newest approach to Biblical interpretation is “The Prosperity Gospel.”  The sermon might sound like this.

The poor widow got up facing another day which appeared would be like every other day. There were no possibilities, no hopes. But on that morning a friend came by and persuaded her to come to the synagogue to hear the words of the new rabbi. He spoke a fresh message. Rabbi Joel promised that if we trusted God, if we gave our hearts to God, wonderful things would happen. So the widow went to the synagogue, she heard the promises of Rabbi Joel, and she gave all that she had. Miraculously, from then on every morning the widow woke up with enough food to make it through the day. Imagine what God will do for you if you follow the example of that poor widow.

Excuse me for being a bit cynical but I have looked all through the Gospel of Mark and I can’t find anything about the fate of the widow once she left the synagogue. But that doesn’t stop ministers, especially those with TV contracts, from making it up as they go. I wonder how many folks spilt their contributable giving between TV shysters and lottery tickets, hoping one of them will pay off?

I can understand why ministers want to manipulate this passage. Better to preach about the widow than reveal that Jesus’ real interest is in the clergy who, “walk around with long robes, dispatching lengthy prayers as they devour widows houses.” This is not a stewardship text but rather a condemnation aimed at the synagogue or any other place of worship which has forgotten who they are supposed to be. Well I can play the imagination game with the best of them.

The widow makes her way to the synagogue just as she had done every other Sabbath.  The reading for this particular morning was the story of Naomi and Ruth. Two women, both widows, both poor, leave Ruth’s native soil to seek sanctuary in the land where Naomi was born. Naomi tells Ruth in her tradition righteousness is defined through the fidelity of God and the hospitality of God’s people.  Ruth believes this and tells her mother-in-law, “Where you go I will go. Your people shall be my people. Your God shall be my God.”  They settled near Bethlehem. A righteous man named Boaz allowed the pair to take grain from his fields. The story ends with Ruth marrying Boaz and Naomi embracing her new role as grandmother. The rabbi closed the scroll and declared, “Let us be a holy people, inspired by the fidelity of Naomi and the hospitality of Boaz.”

The widow was inspired and thought, “I cannot change the world but I can do my small part toward the safety and welfare of those next to me.” So she gave her two coins.  Only the coins never reached their intended destination. They went into the pocket of the Rabbi who used them for his own pleasure. And no one noticed, except Jesus.

Churches are known for their grand plans. 100 years ago every denomination had a missionary fund. We collected money to send missionaries throughout the world to convert the heathen. Fifty years ago we started concentrating on the local population filling tents and football stadiums as traveling evangelists would arrive with promises to drive Satan from our midst. We are too sophisticated for that kind of nonsense today. Churches are program driven. Churches have turned Sunday morning into a magical mystery tour. Churches are doing whatever they can do to increase membership and budget. Our emphasis is growth, a competition that creates rivals rather than brothers and sisters in Christ. What happened to fidelity and hospitality? What happened to faithfully caring for each other?

I see an incredible parallel between Veterans Day and the image Jesus had for the church. Now don’t get excited. We are not going to end the service singing, “Onward Christian Soldiers.” But I want you to notice a similarity between church members and soldiers. I was in the Army briefly, but more significantly in Virginia Beach I served a church filled with combat veterans.  I listened and wept as they shared stories of losing friends.  Universally they joined as patriots desiring to fight for a glorious cause. But somewhere patriotism was replaced with the welfare and survival of their closest comrades.  Shakespeare best describes this in his play Henry V. On St. Crispin’s Day, Prince Hal stood before an outnumbered group of farmers on the wrong side of the British Channel.  They couldn’t even remember why they are fighting. Hal speaks, “We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.”

One by one veterans have told me in the end they didn’t fight so much for their country, or for some great cause but rather for that person beside them. Their world became no larger than those brothers and sisters in their platoon. 

The church is no different. We are not here primarily because of our loyalty to some ancient Theological Creed. Each Sunday we come to sit in the same pew and be comforted by those closest to us. We care for each other’s welfare. Gradually we expand our band of brothers and sisters to include someone all the way across the sanctuary. We wave at them during the passing of the peace and catch up with them during the fellowship hour. And then eventually, we take on the role of a Naomi, or a Ruth, or Boaz.  We expand our band of brothers and sisters into the community. We seek out rather than ignore the poor. We shelter rather than exclude the widow. And sometimes we even dare to hear the story of the sojourner. This is when we become the church Jesus always envisioned. You see the church of Jesus Christ is not about big programs, complicated theological axioms, or deep pockets. It is about deep hearts and clear eyesight inspired by God’s fidelity. It is about clergy and church members practicing endless acts of hospitality.

We few; we happy few; we band of brothers and sisters in Christ. Let’s make the most of the gifts God has given us.

To God be the Glory.   Amen.