Jesu Juva

“When Big Is Little and Little Is Big”

Text: Mark 12:38-44; Hebrews 9:24-28

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

When you think of role models, poor widows are not the first thing that pop into your mind. Maybe a teacher, or someone who goes out of their way to help others, or someone who leads in the face of danger.

If you lived in Jesus’ day, the scribes would be the kind of people you looked to, along with the Pharisees. They were serious about their religion. They knew their Scriptures. They were leaders. And yet, as we heard today, Jesus says to beware of them. They are, in fact, not good role models.

Because while they looked good, they were anything but good. Whitewashed tombs, Jesus called them (Matthew 23:37-38). Meaning that just as a tomb may appear beautiful and impressive on the outside, when you open it up it is anything but! Inside is a rotting corpse. So outwardly the scribes may look good and righteous and holy, like good role models, but inside, in their hearts, it is quite a different story. Inwardly they are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness. It was all a show. They weren’t sincere. They prayed long prayers with their lips but not their hearts. The widows they should have helped they instead devoured.

The same could be said of the rich folks Jesus saw that day. He didn’t criticize them, but He didn’t praise them either. Like with the scribes, don’t judge by what you see, Jesus is saying. They were putting large sums in the offering box, yes. Dumping in lots and lots of coins. But only because they had lots and lots of coins.

But hey, Jesus says, all of a sudden, look at this widow. Maybe they hadn’t even noticed her, in her plain clothes, her offering not in a large money bag but hidden in her small hand. Be like her. Because she’s the opposite of a whitewashed tomb. On the outside she doesn’t look like much, but inside! Ah, inside is the most beautiful faith! Faith that took two coins, her last two coins, all she had to live on, and gave them to God. And not because she was commanded to do so - she should have been receiving alms, not giving them! Had she not gone to the Temple that day, no one would have missed her or her offering. But it mattered to her. So she went. And she gave. And she mattered to Jesus.

As do you. No matter how rich or poor you are. No matter how much you matter to the world. That’s why Jesus gave all He had. For you. Not just giving all He had to live on, like this widow, but His very life itself. And He gave not only more than anyone else, but more than everyone else put together, and what no one else could give - a perfectly sinless life to atone for all the completely sinful lives of the world. And while just one life for the countless lives that have lived since the creation of the world may seem as small and insignificant as the offering of the widow - the two small coins that make just a penny - like the offering of the widow, that one life was more than all other offerings. For it was given in the most beautiful faith and love. With perfect faith in His Father, and with perfect love for you. And like the widow, Jesus should have been receiving offerings, not giving them - not because of His poverty, but because of His majesty and glory as the Son of God! But you mattered to Him. So He came. And He gave Himself for you.

For when our inward and our outward don’t agree. Which, at least for me, happens more than I care to admit. And this can happen in two ways: first, when my faith isn’t shown in my life; and second, when I look good on the outside but am filled with ugliness and sin on the inside.

Maybe you, too, struggle with this. First, when I know what I should do, what my faith and God’s Word are telling me to do, and really what I want to do as a child of God . . . and yet I don’t. The inward doesn’t become outward. Instead I act selfishly; I’d rather be lazy than put myself out for others. I say words that hurt, or I don’t say words that would help - maybe because I’m scared to do so, or don’t want to get involved. I don’t pray as I should or for who I should. Have you ever done that? Told someone you’d pray for them and then forget? Instead of apologizing or repenting to someone, I put it off and hope that time will make it better. Or that they’ll just forget it. Maybe you, too? Or am I the only one? All the good things I know I should do but don’t. My inward and outward don’t agree.

But then I can also be that second way, too - when I make myself look good on the outside, but am filled with ugliness and sin on the inside. When I smile at someone while judging and criticizing them in my heart. When like the scribes I pray with my lips but not my heart. When I act one way at church or around other Christians, but at work or school or home I look completely different. Maybe you too? My inward and outward don’t agree.

What a mixed-up, jumbled up, confused, scrambled person I am! And yet Jesus, whose inward and outward perfectly agree, said: Yup. I want them. I want that pastor and all those sinners gathered at Saint Athanasius [or Hope] to be my own. I don’t want them to be spiritual widows; I want them as My Bride. So He came and laid down His life for us. Gave all He had for us. Not coins, big or small. But His blood. For without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins (Hebrews 9:22).

But with the shedding of blood - and not just any blood, but the blood of the Lamb of God - there is forgiveness. With the shedding of His blood, Jesus takes away the sin of the world. One sacrifice for all sin. One sacrifice for all time. That the blood from His one cross now fill every Font, every sermon, every absolution, every chalice, with His forgiveness. To make us right again. To fix our brokenness. That our inward and our outward agree.

Because when the inward and outward don’t agree and we aren’t in sync, it’s no good. You can take your car to the car wash and get it all cleaned and waxed and detailed and looking great on the outside . . . but if inside the engine’s shot, what good is it? Or the opposite, too. You can have your house redone, remodeled. New paint, new floors, new furniture and appliances . . . but if you have holes in the roof or broken windows, if the outside is shot, what good is it?

That’s what sin has done to us. We’re out of sync. And not just with ourselves, our inward and outward, but with each other, and with God.

So Jesus came and gave all He had for us. He put us back in sync with God with the forgiveness of our sins. Yes! But . . . He has also come to put us back in sync with each other. His forgiveness is what our broken homes, our out of sync marriages, our strained friendships, need. Not just to change those with disagree with, because they’re obviously stupid and wrong, right? But to change me. To fix me. That I can be at peace. And then I can spread that peace to others with my love and forgiveness. Not whether or not they deserve it; but because Jesus lives in me.

And you know, it might not seem to matter . . . the little I can do in my little life. Because there’s so much sin in our world, right? We’ve just come out of another bitter election. There are wars and crime. We have big problems in our world and society. And we need people to address these problems. Big, important people. Educated, knowledgeable people. People who can contribute great things to the world. Large bags of solutions for large problems.

And you and me? With our penny of forgiveness? What difference does it make? Really?

But hey, Jesus says, look at Jackie! Look at Ray! Look at Liana! Look at each of you. Maybe no one else notices you, in your regular clothes, with your regular job, with your regular life, not solving world hunger or creating world peace, but feeding your family, helping the poor, forgiving those who sin against you. But Jesus does. Be like that, He says.

And sometimes, just doing those things is giving all you have, isn’t it? It’s not easy. And maybe you don’t get the thanks you deserve, or the best seats in the synagogues, or the places of honor at feasts. But that’s not why you do it. You do it because you know who had the best seat and the place of honor in heaven, and gave it up for you. And one day - and I pray, soon! - He’s going to come and take you there to His place and give it to you. And you’re going to be like: No! I don’t deserve this seat. If I even deserve to be here at all, it’s waaaay down there! But Jesus is going to say, nope. I don’t make mistakes. This is your seat. I noticed you and your faith. This is for you.

And until that day - and I pray it is soon! - Jesus gives you a seat at His Table here. THIS is for you now. His Body and Blood. His forgiveness. His life. So we can live synced up lives; lives of peace. Peace with God and peace with one another. And while it’s just a little piece of bread, a little sip of wine . . . two little things to the eye, to our faith, nothing could be bigger. All Jesus and all His gifts. All we need to live on.

So these last few weeks of the Church Year, as we wait for the end, for Jesus to come as He promised, as we wait to get to the end, Jesus has brought the end here. A foretaste of the feast, and the peace, to come. Until that day, take the peace and forgiveness you receive here and give it to others. They may not notice. They may not care. They may even laugh and take advantage of you. But Jesus knows, and notices. And a little forgiveness is a big offering to Him.

In the Name of the Father, and of the (+) Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Now the peace of God which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds through faith in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen.