23 Pentecost, Year B

“SWEET SMELLING INCENSE –OR- SMELLY ROTTENNESS?”
A sermon by The Very Rev. Gene Tucker; given at Trinity Church, Mt. Vernon, Illinois; Sunday, November 8, 2009
Proper 27 -- I Kings 17:8–16; Psalm 146:4–9; Hebrews 9:24–28; Mark 12:38–44

Two odors rise from today’s gospel text: one is the sweet smell of incense, rising as a prayer to God. The other is the smelly rottenness of lives gone sour.

Of course, it wouldn’t be hard at all to figure out which is which, would it?

The sweet smell of incense rises from the life of the unnamed poor widow who puts her two small copper coins into the basin used to collect offerings for the Temple in Jerusalem.

The stinky, smelly odor of rottenness rises from the actions and the lifestyles of the scribes, who are castigated in today’s reading with the highest form of condemnation. Theirs is an empty, self-serving show. Theirs is the example of outward piety and religiosity, which serves only to mask the inner deceit that fills their hearts. Like a piece of rotten fruit that looks OK on the outside, but is spoiled on the inside, the scribes “put on a good show” with their long robes and their insistence on having the best and most honored seats at banquets.

(Our gospel text today is linked together by the word “widow”, so we will consider the actions of the scribes, who “devour widows’ houses” and the widow who puts all her wealth into the treasury.)

In order to understand a little better what Jesus has in mind as He comments on these two groups of people (I think the Temple must have been an excellent place to “people watch”!), let’s recall what we know about the society Jesus came into 2,000 years ago.

We begin with the scribes….these were educated men who not only knew the provisions of the Law of Moses through-and-through, but who were able to read and write (which was a rare ability in the ancient world). As learned men, they were, therefore, the interpreters of the provisions of the Law in many cases. They probably owed their lofty positions to their ability to read and write, and so were dependent upon the priestly caste at the Temple in Jerusalem for their positions and their economic well-being. So, we could safely say that they were “hangers-on” in a real sense. They’d climbed the corporate ladder of success that was in existence in those days, and so were happy to have all the perks of their success, including distinctive clothing, titles of respect, and places of honor at social gatherings.

In addition, the scribes probably acted as legal agents in some cases. In particular, notice that Jesus condemns their practice of “seizing widows’ houses”. What Jesus is referring to is a practice in which the scribes would act as a legal agent for a widow (who would have had little-to-no legal standing in the ancient world), but who would make off with the property, instead of protecting the interests of the widow. This practice would be similar to an attorney today who siphons off assets from an estate he or she had been hired to manage.

Now, we turn to the widow….The world and the society into which Jesus came was a “man’s world”. It was more of a man’s world in Jewish society than it was in the Greco-Roman world. Women had little social or legal standing. They were dependent upon a man’s ability to do things to earn a living, and to enter into legal contracts (notice the connection to the actions of the scribes, noted above). If a husband died, usually it was the obligation of a brother of the husband to marry the man’s widow (see the provisions of Deuteronomy 25: 5 – 10, which outline the procedure…this practice is known as “Levirite Marriage”, a title which comes from the Latin, where levir means “husband’s brother”). The intent of this practice was to raise up children for the brother. But it also had the ancillary effect of providing for the widow’s economic welfare, along with any children who were born to the marriage.

The text before us today does not tell us about the widow’s situation. We might assume that she has no husband because her husband had no brothers, but we cannot be sure about that. What we can be sure of is that she is not at all well-off, for she puts into the basin all the money she has.

The account before has everything to do with trust.

Or, we might characterize our consideration of the word “trust” by asking this question: Who or what did the scribes trust in? Who or what did the widow trust in?

The answers seem obvious, don’t they?

The scribes seem to be self-made men who trust in their benefactors and their success at climbing the social and economic ladder of Jesus’ day. They are gathering to themselves everything that their success in this endeavor will allow, including the stealing of other people’s wealth and well-being. They are entirely focused in on themselves. They trust in their ability to manipulate the system to their benefit. And, what’s worse, they do so under the outward appearance of religiosity!

They stink! Their actions and their attitudes strike our noses like the rotten smell of fruit gone bad.

By contrast, the widow trusts in God, for she has thrown her entire future in with Him. Once the two coins hit the bottom of the coffer, she is entirely dependent upon the Lord to provide, in much the same way that the widow of Zarephath was about eight centuries earlier (see our reading from I Kings for today). In that case, God’s test of that widow’s trust came in the form of Elijah’s request for the remaining flour she and her son had to live on. The test comes from knowing that, once the remaining resource is gone, trust in God’s ability to provide will be the hope she has to go forward with.

Now, life is like an odor, rising to God. Indeed, Scripture often likens the prayers of the saints to incense (that’s one reason we use incense in our worship, though we don’t often do so here at Trinity). The Bible uses the image of the sweet smell of incense rising to the nostrils of the Lord. Isn’t it a beautiful image?

Life can be a prayer, rising like incense to the Lord.

The way we live can rise like incense to God. Or, it can rise like the obnoxious odor of smelly rottenness, too.

Most likely, we know all-too-well what the smelly rottenness might entail. The scribes in our gospel text today provide a very clear model for us to avoid. Let’s be clear: the model the scribes provide for us has everything to do with an empty, outward religious show, a show that is disconnected from everyday, real life.

But what might the sweet smell of a life lived with complete and utter trust in God look like?

Such a life might entail regular worship which seeks to integrate our daily life with our worship life on Sunday mornings (in marked contrast to the lifestyle of the scribes!).

It might involve a complete change of heart about our attitudes toward our earthly possessions and wealth, including a willingness to “give it all up” for the sake of God’s call (recall with me the example of St. Francis of Assisi, who was born into a wealthy merchant family, but who turned his back on all that status and wealth to follow God’s call).

It might prompt us to re-evaluate how we relate to others, and particularly to their economic and social situations. Being specific, do we do all we can to improve the lives of the widows of today, the poor and the downcast, those who are without hope?

How do we live out a life of prayer that rises like sweet incense to God?

This question comes to us, and asks us to examine our lives closely in light of God’s holy word. AMEN.