November 2003 Lectionary Homiletics

November 2003

The Sermon Mall

Index of November 2003 Sermon Mall


Sermon Ideas For Mark 12:38-44 Part 3

The poor widow, who puts everything she has into the treasury, embodies the Great Commandment of last Sunday's gospel lesson: "...you shall love your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength" (Mk 12:28-34). The widow holds back nothing in her unrestrained gesture of love for God and her neighbor.

A painting by an anonymous artist in Cameroon, Africa, interprets the story of "The Widow's Mite" through the eyes of the Mafa people. A barefoot woman balancing a large basket on her head and a baby on one hip pauses to drop her small coins into a tall clay jar. By the central placement of the woman, walking toward us, the artist makes her the primary focal point. To our left, on the other side of the jar, is an obviously wealthy man, wearing good shoes and a flowing, fancy robe. Whereas the woman is reaching forward to drop her donation in the jar, the man whisks past it, tossing in a gold coin as an afterthought. The woman's gaze is focused and deliberate. Her brown arms and hands are well-muscled from hard work. Her stance as she moves forward seems weighed down by the heavy basket on her head and by her baby, which she balances on her hip. There is a slight bow as she reaches toward the jar with her coin, a reverence suggested by the bending of her knee. She offers the fruits of her labors, her strength, mind, soul, and heart to God.

On the other hand, the man's swift gait, shown by the way his robe kicks up behind him, and the offhand toss of a large gold coin suggest an almost mindless attitude towards giving. The woman is mindful. We see her clearly; she walks toward us. The man walks away, toward the town gate, his back to us, his face barely seen. The painter has subtly cast the wealthy man in shadow. His robe is brownish, and the sleeve of his shirt is dark gray. In contrast, light falls on the woman's yellow dress, her alert baby, and the basket on her head. The artist highlights her facial features. She walks in the light.

On the far right side of the picture stands an older man, his coin purse in hand. He is well-clothed and wears a tur ban. His glance is sidelong, watching the wealthy man and the poor woman drop their coins. He leans slightly away, suggesting that he is considering how much to drop in the treasury jar himself. For the woman there is not even a question. How much should one love God and therefore give? All. Over the second man's shoulder we see a cluster of men looking on. The most prominent one, dressed in a simple red robe, is clearly pleased at what he sees in the woman. With his slightly raised arms he registers satisfaction. His mouth is open to speak; the men just behind him are looking at him, to hear what the Master has to say about the widow's mite.

If we want to juxtapose images of wealthy and poverty to illumine this gospel story, we can find countless examples in the visual arts. Vincent Van Gogh's favored subjects were peasants and laborers in the fields. Their humble lives and forms struck him as expressions of basic goodness. His early drawings show reverence for simple farmers. He draws a tired woman rocking a cradle, a man hunched over a large loom, and a pair of old shoes that obviously have walked many miles of fields. He paints a poor family of potato farmers eating their supper of potatoes. The lamp suspended above the kitchen table casts a warm light on their coarse features and gnarled hands. Van Gogh invests such humble scenes with a sacred quality. Like Jesus, the painter honors the poor, their plight, and their contributions.

In a spirit similar to Van Gogh, Jules Breton painted simple farm scenes in the late nineteenth century. His best-known painting is probably Song of the Lark. As the red sun rises above the horizon, a barefoot peasant girl in the field stops work, scythe in hand, and looks up in an attitude of listening. Behind her, barely visible, is a meadowlark on the wing. The artist has captured a holy, beautiful moment in a hard life.

In vivid contrast to the work of Breton and Van Gogh are portraits of wealthy patrons and clients painted during the same era by William Singer Sargent. The portraits convey privilege and elegance. Some of them dazzle with their ostentatious portrayal of the moneyed class. Rather vapid faces and regal bearing reveal self-satisfaction and self-importance. Elaborate jewelry adorns the necklines of ladies. Opulence drips from the portraits of Lady Sassoon, the daughter of Baron Gustave de Rothschild and of Mrs. Carl Meyer and her Children. The faces of the son and daughter of Mrs. Meyer convey bored privilege. As gorgeous as these paintings are, one feels perhaps a disdain for their lavish lifestyle. Their lives are about material pleasure. One cannot imagine any of the rich subjects giving their all to the treasury in the temple or even a tithe of their wealth to the church. It is hard to imagine Jesus viewing them approvingly and pointing to them as examples of the kind of total love shown by the widow giving her mite.

Deborah Rose


Top of Page
This Journal is published by Theological Web Publishing, LLC. For more information e-mail us at: webedit@theology.org