25 Pentecost

November 10, 2024

1 Kings 17:8-16; Psalm 146; Mark 12.38-44

+There was a meme going around later last week that said:

GOD HELP THE PREACHERS WHO HAVE TO PREACH THIS SUNDAY.

That’s the truth!

God, help me today.

So, originally we planned Stewardship Sunday today.

But when I realized that it was the Sunday after the election, I didn’t feel right about doing it on this day.

I wasn’t certain how things would go.

And now I’m happy we’re not doing it today.

For many here at St. Stephen’s,  it been a difficult week, a week of devastating loss.

It has been a  week of fear and shock and anger and disillusionment.  

I have been listening and sitting with many of you who are who are feeling very helpless.

People feel as though there is nothing we can do.

People feel as though we are at the whim of whatever may happen.

It’s hard to face that fact that we can’t change the bigger things—the things beyond our reach or control.

But we have lots of control in our own orbits, in our own spaces—to some extent.

There are things we can do here and now.

And there are certain things we can do here.

We can do what we’ve always done here at St. Stephen’s.

It is moments like this I hope you’re as grateful as I am that we have a place like St. Stephen’s, a place where we are safe and sound and loved and included.

And inspired by that, we can choose certain things.

We can choose compassion.

 We can choose selflessness.

We can choose personal decency.

We are, after all, Children of God, and as children of God we are called to live life differently than the majority of the world.  

We can choose to do what we have always done, as Christians, as followers of Jesus, as members of St. Stephen’s.

And we will.

In the face of whatever life or governments may do, we can stand up, we can stand firm and we can not only profess our faith, we can live it out.

And we can speak out.

And we can stand up, as we always have, and do everything we can to fight injustice.

As we always have.

We can still work diligently to bring in the kingdom of God in our midst, in our own ways.

Bravely and surely.

Without fear.

I know fear is a potent force right now in our lives and in our country.

In the history of St. Stephen’s ministry, things have come and things have gone.

In just the time that I’ve been there, we have experienced so much.

Presidents and governments have come and gone.

There have been bleak times and there have been very good times.

I am not going to say to those who feel fear or anger over the presidential race to buck up, to get over it.

But this is one thing I do know: St. Stephen’s will continue to be a place of openness and acceptance, no matter what.

We will still be followers of Jesus in this world.

 We will still work to further God’s Kingdom of justice and equality in our own way, as best we can.

 The scriptures we hear today, speak very clearly to us today as well.

 We  find a pure and most poignant voice in the words from today’s Psalm:

 “The Lord raises up those who are bowed down.”

 “Bowed down”

 That is a beautifully poetic understanding of what many of us are feeling today.

 This is what it feels like when we have been knocked down or disillusioned.

 Certainly, in biblical times, no one was more bowed down than the widows we meet in our readings today.

 Marginalized women.

 Some things never change.

 In our reading from the Hebrew scriptures, we find a widow who visits the prophet and who, out of a desperate situation—she and her son will no doubt starve soon—she gives from what she has.

 She, bowed down and helpless, gives from what she has.

 In our Gospel, we find a widow who is giving two small coins—money that, no doubt, could have gone for food.

 Now, the stories seem basic.

 OK.

 So they’re poor women.

 But there’s more to it than that.

 Being a widow then and there was different than being a widow now. 

 We oftentimes miss the real meaning behind these stories of the poor widows.

 A widow in those times was very much a person “bowed down.”

 Women, for the most part, at that time were defined by their men.

 Men took care of women—whether it be the father, the husband, the brother or the son— and when there were no men to look after the woman, she was left to her own devices, which were—in that time and in that place—extremely limited.

 So, when we look at it from this perspective, for these widows, to give anything at all, is pretty amazing, since they probably had very, very  little to give in the first place.

 And yet they, in their poverty, gave abundantly.

 These widows, these bowed down people, these marginalized and ignored people, are the people we are called—no, that we are commanded—to not forget about or turn away from.

  Over and over again in both the Hebrew scriptures and in the New Testament, we are commanded to not neglect those who are lacking.

 We are not to neglect those among us who are being “bowed down”

 We are being commanded by God again and again to never turn away from the poor, from the marginalized, from those who are sick, from those who are being oppressed.

 Governments may do that.

 Political systems may do that.

 But we---we do not have that option.

 The reason behind this is that we—as believers in God, as children of God and followers of Jesus—are not to look at the world as those “of the world” do.

 How are we to see this world?

 We are to see this world with the “eyes of God.”

 We are to see—and to truly see— as God sees.

 And not just see as God sees.

 But to act as God acts.

 We are to show compassion on others as God shows compassion on us.

 When we do so—when we don’t turn away from those who are being unjustly treated in our midst—we are drawing close to the presence and the love of God.

 But more so than even that, oftentimes when we act as God acts in this world, we are actually being the embodiment of God to those who need God in their lives.

 And most importantly, when we refuse to turn away from the oppressed in our midst, we are being mirrors of that compassion and love of God to others.

 But I am going to take this even one more step further.

 Yes, we are not to turn away from those who are oppressed, but we are also called, in those moments when see, as God sees, oppression and injustice in our midst to stand up and speak out against oppression and injustice.

 And through all of this we need to remind ourselves that we too are lacking.

 We too are not fully content, not fully rich, not fully whole, not fully in control.

 Even those of us who “have,” know what it means, at times, to be out in the fringes.

 We too who dress in our “long robes,” sometimes know what it means to be “bowed down” by injustice.

 When we read these stories of the poor widows—we can, in all honesty, put ourselves in the place of the widow.

 No, we are not necessarily hungry, or poor, or dependent upon someone else for our financial well-being.

 But we may have known oppression in our lives.

 We may have known what it feels like to be marginalized, to be treated as someone less in this world just because of who we are.

 We too know what it is like to be ignored and seen as unimportant.

 I personally have known this profoundly in my own life many, many times.

 I have known it by the society in which I live.

 I have most certainly known it by the Church in which I serve, and by the leaders of that Church.

 And any of us who have been truly “bowed down” can tell you: being “bowed down” is awful.

 Truly and terribly awful!

 No one strives to be one of the bowed down in our society.

 No one wishes to be treated that way in this world.

 So, what do we do in these situations?

 Well, when it happens we recognize our dependence on that One who truly does feed us who are hungry, on the One who raises up us who are bowed down

 Because God is with those who are oppressed.

 And in this world—this world that is at times so ugly and unfriendly and so mean-spirited and so violent and so full of deceit—we too know what it means to be on the receiving end of those things.

 We too know what it means, at times, to be hurt and burdened.

 And it is very important for all of us who are bowed down to remember.

 Those who are lacking are not only to receive justice.

 We cannot just hoard justice or demand it only for ourselves. 

 We are to show justice as well in our own lives.

 And that it is why it is important to identify with the widows.

 We—fractured human beings that we are—must show the justice we expect for ourselves.

 Even in our lacking, even bowed down as we might be, even ostracized and marginalized from the world and the Church and society, we must live out our lives with integrity and meaning.

 We must emanate justice in all we do and say.

 And we must fight against injustice whenever we see it.

 And trust me, we will get through this.

 We will emerge from this.

 There will be better days.

 For now, despite what we may find around us, let each of us bear within ourselves the love and compassion of God to others.

 Let us reflect it with our very lives and actions.

 Let us live God’s justice out in our very lives and in all of our actions.

 Let us love others, even those we really do not right now want to love, as God loves us.

 Let us be compassionate to others, as God is compassionate to us.

 And when we do, only then will injustice finally begin to cease.

 Only then will we know that, yes, truly God does raise up those who are bowed down.