In the late 19th century a postcard came out in Germany that caused people to look twice. It depicted a beautiful young girl with fine features and a bonnet on her head looking away from the viewer. But if you looked closer, focusing on what you may have thought was the girl’s ear, another image came into view. This wasn’t an attractive maiden but an “old hag” with a protruding nose and a tear in her eye.
The picture, or variations of it, has appeared in other publications over the years. I first came across it in a youth resource I purchased in the 80’s, but what it reminds me of is the truism “two people can look at the same thing and see it differently”. Of course, we will say this is true of art and for aspects of our everyday lives, but I want to suggest it is also true of our gospel today, a passage we know as the widow’s mite.
“I tell you this,” Jesus said: “this poor widow has given more than any of the others; for those others who have given had more than enough, but she, with less than enough, has given all that she had to live on.” (Mk 12:44)
What is the message of this text? Is Jesus commending the widow’s action? Are we being challenged to give sacrificially? Is he saying that we, like the widow, need to place our trust in God wholeheartedly, without reserve? Or is the point altogether different? Does it in fact have little to do with praise or our dependency on God?
I want to suggest, as with the postcard, the answer depends on what we focus on.
Now generally, preachers and commentators, argue the point of the passage is to praise the widow for her actions, her devotion to and complete dependence upon God, and to contrast this with the self-righteousness of the scribes, and the generous, but also painless, behaviour of the rich. The true measure of gifts, according to this particular interpretation, is not how much is given but how much remains behind!
I suspect this is the way “Bishop” Tamaki of Destiny Church would preach, though he may like to omit the first part of our reading about those who love to have places of honour at feasts and to walk up and down in long robes or perhaps in fancy suits.
But, I suspect, it is also what you would hear in many Anglican churches in New Zealand today. They may not say “give till it hurts”, like the widow; but she will be held up as an example of someone who has nothing, except complete trust in God. Are we not reminded in Acts (20:35) how Jesus said “it is more blessed to give than to receive”? And doesn’t Jesus, in the events which unfold after this incident, give his all for the sake of the world? Surely we too should learn from the widow’s ways!
Now I have some empathy for this interpretation. No doubt I have used the text in a similar way myself. The Christian life doesn’t come cheap. It does cost us everything. Jesus called his disciples to leave their nets behind and to follow him. And stewardship of God’s gifts, our talents and material assets, recognises the earth and all that is in it belongs to God and we are responsible for how these are used. The church’s mission is also dependant upon the generosity and sacrificial giving of its members. We couldn’t achieve what we do without sharing this work together.
But I don’t think it is the main point the gospel writer is making. My perspective has been challenged and affected these last few days by what I have focused on.
You see, nowhere in the text does Jesus expand on his words. Jesus observes the widow’s offering and he contrasts this with those who have given out of their abundance. But he doesn’t say he approves of her actions nor that she gave out of a sense of inner joy. In fact, it is possible she acted out of despair or guilt or a desire to be seen. All that Jesus says is “she gave more”. The gospel leaves us to fill in the rest. And when we hear this passage in its’ immediate context the rest becomes clearer.
Let me explain.
Jesus begins with a condemnation of religious leaders, the scribes or doctors of the law. However he doesn’t condemn them all, for as he explains to one scribe in verse 34 “You are not far from the kingdom of God”; instead he condemns only those who like to make a show of their position, and who, as Mark goes on to say, “eat up the property of widows” (verse 40). This last verse is crucial in interpreting what comes next. The two episodes aren’t put together because of the catchword “widow”; they have been placed where they are because of the point the writer is making. Jesus doesn’t praise the widow’s actions; to the contrary he laments what she has done.
To illustrate what I mean, imagine yourself in the position of Jesus. You’re sitting in a large church somewhere, watching as wealthy patrons write out large cheques and place them in the collection plate; then you see someone obviously desperate and vulnerable come forward and put in everything they have to live on, their whole life’s savings. What would you think? Would you be in awe of their actions? Would you see it as a virtuous act? Or would you consider it an act of misguided piety, for this person has given to the church all they own while neglecting their basic needs?
If this was to happen here I suspect we would want to counsel the individual, to put right the teaching they have been exposed to, and to remind them how although the ministry and mission of the church is dependent on the generosity and goodwill of parishioners, this shouldn’t come at the expense of caring for ourselves. So why would it be any different for Jesus? Why would he applaud the widow’s actions?
As Addison Wright explains, “she [the widow] has been taught and encouraged by religious leaders to donate as she does, and Jesus condemns the value system that motivates her action, and he condemns the people who conditioned her to do it”. 
In an article in Monday’s New Zealand Herald, Glynn Cardy, vicar of St Matthew-in-the-city in Auckland, takes issue with the teaching of Destiny Church and with the pledge of obedience to its self-proclaimed bishop by over seven hundred of its male members; and he also reminds his readers that it wasn’t so long ago that all the ordained in the Anglican Church were men; and who, along with their female counterparts today, continue to take an oath of obedience to their bishop, albeit without any cries of “amen”. But there is also a difference. As Cardy goes on to say: “For many decades now many mainline ministers have seen themselves as fallible guides, trying to enable others, sharing pain, hope and trust, and together with their parishioners seeking God”.  I think back to my ordination and the words that stood out to me then. “Will you so live the gospel that you challenge us with the demands of love?” And my response: “I will. God give me strength and humility.”
Jesus was a religious reformer. He confronted the abuses and double-standards of those who should have known much better. And to bring home the point, in the very next section, as Jesus and his disciples are leaving the temple, he responds to a comment about the magnificence of the buildings, by saying “You see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down” (13:2). In other words, not only was the widow’s offering misguided, it was also a waste!
Now let me show you that picture I mentioned in the beginning [OHP]. What do you see? Do you see a young maiden or an old woman? And more importantly, what shapes and forms the way you understand the Bible and God and the Christian life? Is your outlook, your perspective, shaped by a belief in the infallibility of a text or an institution, or by the humble determination to live fully the gospel truth?
I pray it is the latter.
So, not forgetting our dependence upon God for the gift of life and not forgetting our Christian responsibility to share generously with others what we ourselves have received, may we look again at this life we seek to live; and may we stand with the powerless against the exploitation of the powerful, so that by love all may walk free.
And maybe then the widow’s mite might not have been wasted. 
Amen.

A sermon preached in St Alban’s Anglican Church, Eastbourne, by the Venerable Damon Plimmer, on Sunday 8 November 2009.