Monday, July 30, 2012

7.29.12 Sermon--Mark 12:38-44


In my first semester of seminary, I took a class on different practices of prayer. My professor started our time together by telling us a story about Stanley Hauerwas, a noted theologian and ethicist, and—much more importantly for me—a fellow Texan. Hauerwas, who is currently working as a professor at Duke Divinity School, was asked by the president of Duke University to give an invocation at the opening of a meeting for the Board of Regents. The president told Dr. Hauerwas that this was really just a formality that had to be observed, and since the school had a strong religious heritage, he needed someone with a strong religious background to lead prayer. On the bright side, though, this would give this seminary professor a wonderful chance to rub elbows with movers and shakers, so performing this formality could really help further his career.

Well, even after that heart-swelling pep talk, Hauerwas agreed to lead the Board of Regents in an opening prayer. He was introduced after the official welcome by the school president, and once he had made his way up to the podium, he bowed his head and lifted up a prayer that went something like this:

“Lord, this prayer is really just a formality that has to be observed, and if we could, we probably do away with it completely. But since this is a school with a strong religious heritage, we recognize that certain obligations must be met, no matter how useless a ritual they may be. So hear our prayer, Lord, and let all be in agreement that our obligations to you have been met. Amen.”

Can you guess who was never invited back to a Board of Regents meeting at Duke University? 

My professor told this story to remind us to always remember the importance of prayer, that it is much more than a formality or obligation. Instead, it is a wonderful opportunity to speak to God and to invite God into our lives. But this story has another lesson as well for us: the lesson of humility.

Dr. Hauerwas called the president of Duke University and the entire Board of Regents out for forgetting why they were doing what they were doing and for whom they were doing it. That school was founded as a place of teaching and equipping new leaders for work in the mission and ministry of God, both in and out of the pastoral field. Everything about this institution was designed as a way to give glory to God and spread the Gospel message to the world. Everything about this institution was supposed to revolve around giving God what is due to God.

And yet now, when the movers and shakers of the entire university are gathered together, the opening prayer—the invocation of the Holy Spirit and the invitation for God to be blessed through every thought, word, and deed—is viewed as a necessary formality, a shallow ritual that must be played out. This used to be the most important act of the gathering because it centered everyone on God and focused everyone’s minds on the Kingdom. Now, it was just another bullet point on the agenda that filled the time before they got down to business.

But true humility before God can never leave prayer as just another bullet point on an agenda.

In our New Testament Scripture lesson today, Jesus deals with this very issue and tries to warn his disciples against falling prey to this kind of pride by showing them two examples of it.

The first example comes from his teaching on the legal experts. You see many of the religious leaders of his time had lost sight of the true reason for following the Law that God gave them. They had begun using their status as a means to exert power over others, to enjoy privileges that were refused to others, and to move up the social ranks of life. The Pharisees who were the experts of the Torah for their communities were using the Law of God for their own purposes and their own gain instead of using the Law for its true purpose: to bring honor and glory to God.

Jesus says, “Watch out for the legal experts. They like to walk around in long robes. They want to be greeted with honor in the markets. They long for places of honor in the synagogues and at banquets. They are the ones who cheat widows out of their homes, and to show off they say long prayers. They will be judged most harshly.”

Like a kid who buys a yoyo and then uses it to whack his sister when she’s not looking, these religious leaders have completely disregarded the true function of God’s word. They take what is meant to be an aide for worship and right living and use it instead as a tool for self-gain. And they do it because they have forgotten the very foundation of God’s law by which everything they teach and do was to be judged. The long flowing robes that signify religious office have become sources of vanity instead of equalizing apparel. Instead of lifting up all honor to God as God’s due right, they vainly take for themselves the crowd’s deference in the public places. Though they are meant to be servants of all, they demand the honored places wherever they find themselves, even in the houses of worship. They take, and take, and take for themselves as they see fit, while those pushed to the margins of society slowly perish at their feet. The worship and honor of God is not their goal; the Law has instead become the means for furthering their own cause.

But true humility before God can never utilize the Law as a tool for self-gain.

The second example of this pride comes from Jesus’ examination of the offering box at the temple. You see, during the season of Passover, which everyone was preparing for at this time, Jews from all over the known world would make pilgrimages to Jerusalem to worship and give a sacrifice at the temple. This was a way to honor God in the city that God had given them and in the place where God was thought to reside. Since this was a rather busy time of year, many rich people would have made it a point to bring their offerings before God when the most people possible were present. This was great publicity, and great publicity is exactly what these people needed.

Because for you to be a rich Jew in Jerusalem during the time of Christ meant one thing: you were in cahoots with the Romans. The only people who were able to amass enough money and property to truly be seen as rich were the ones who had paid off the tax collectors, made friendly with the Empire’s goons, and were in some way supporting the occupation of Jerusalem. Otherwise, what you had would be seized and given to those who would play the right kinds of games with the oppressors. These people would give lavishly, and give openly, so that everyone could see what they were doing and so that everyone would see that they were good God-fearing Jews.

But God was not the reason they gave. They gave for status. They gave for appeasement. They gave out of obligation to the nation in which they lived. But like the guy at Starbucks who tosses his change into the tip jar and pockets the bills, these rich people were giving out of their excess. They gave what they did not need and what they would not miss. Their offering was not giving God the best of what they had; it was tossing in their spare change.

But true humility before God can never be content with just giving what one can easily spare.

Unfortunately, this Gospel story lacks a Stanley Hauerwas type of character who blows the roof off of the legal experts’ and the rich peoples’ pride. Instead, our Scripture lesson ends with a poor widow woman coming up to the collection box. In my mind’s eye, this poor widow is not the older woman in rags that is often lifted up in this story. She is not bent over double and wrinkled all over with wisps of white hair escaping from the gray cowl she has draped over her head. Instead, she is a young mother of two who has come to give thanks to God that even though her husband was taken from her and even though she has no home for her kids or food for their bellies, they are still with her and are for the moment still healthy. For two small coins, even though they are only worth a penny, she could buy a small piece of bread for her children, but instead she gives all she has as an offering to God, for she knows that the creator of the universe is due all glory, laud, and honor.

This poor woman gently places the barest fraction of what others have tossed with ceremony and flourishing into the collection, and yet Jesus praises her for her act of worship and humility. She gave nothing less than everything, and she was lifted up as the shining example for all because of this.

Because, friends, true humility before God means giving God all we have and all we are.

Earlier in this chapter, one of the legal experts who got it right asks Jesus a very pointed question. He asks what the most important commandment was. Jesus’ reply comes straight out of the Torah: ““The most important one is this: Israel, listen! Our God is the one Lord, and you must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your being, with all your mind, and with all your strength. The second is this, You will love your neighbor as yourself. No other commandment is greater than these.”

This is what true humility means. It means following God’s word not because prove we are better than others or to further our own place in society, but because God is due all of our worship, praise, and obedience. It means giving to God from our poverty, not our excess, for God has given us the best God has to offer and deserves nothing less than the best we have in return. It even means making sure to spend intentional time before board meetings in earnest prayer to invite God to be center of all we do.

So may we work hard to cast off the pride that can so easily encompass us. May we always remember Jesus’ teachings against the ways of corrupt legal experts and his urging to give from our poverty rather than our excess. May we hold the story of the widow and her two small coins close to our hearts, that we can remember what it is to give everything to the One who deserves it. And may we remember that true humility always means loving the Lord our God with all we are, and giving God everything we have, for that is what God is due.

Amen.

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