Getting Our Vision Checked

Text: Mark 12:38-44

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

            If you were to look at a simply colored bird, say a crow with its all black feathers, or a rusty orange but otherwise comparatively bland hummingbird like a rufous, you wouldn’t necessarily be all that impressed. Yes, all of the creatures God has made instill wonder in us in their own unique ways, but if you were to take what your eyes see in those monochrome, or nearly monochrome species, you’d lose interest quicker than looking at something like a brightly colored macaw, a pheasant, or a ruby-throated hummingbird. But if you could see what birds can see, you would change your story entirely. Birds can see light in the ultraviolet spectrum—colors that we humans cannot see. And what they see in each other is completely different than our evaluations. We simply don’t have the right kind of eyes to see it.

            In our Gospel reading today, Jesus teaches us that there is a right way and a wrong way to determine if a deed that we observe with our eyes is good and God-pleasing, or if it’s misguided and wrong. And just like birds and humans will see two entirely different things, even when looking at the same thing, God and fallen mortals will often have two different evaluations, even when looking at the same deeds.

            Imagine two people: one is clean-cut, presentable, has built a career from the ground up, all the way to smashing success. This person gives millions of dollars to dozens of charities. They have an impeccably manicured lawn. They’re charming at the various parties they throw. Now, why does this person do these things? There are several reasons. There are the obvious tax breaks that come from giving to charity. There’s the popularity and support from all the right kinds of people, whoever they might be. It might help this person’s brand, giving them a better voice in their community or a boost in their business. And, of course, because these types of things make this person feel good about him or herself.

            Now imagine the second person: This is someone who never really made a success out of him or herself. Maybe they got married and had children young—probably too young by some standards. They were too busy raising children to conquer the job market and move up the ladder. They don’t instill any kind of awe when they’re in a crowded room at a party. In fact, they’re pretty quiet and introverted. When the offering plate comes around, they put in what they can, never a lot, but because they’re grateful for the quiet and peaceable life they’ve been given, they do what they can, when they can simply because they know that there are others who need it more then they do.

            Who of these two has the greater works? Because they’re not equal. One is greater than the other, and that’s just the plain truth of it. By sheer numbers, by the number of people affected, by every metric we would naturally be inclined to use, it’s that first example. Don’t kid yourself—that’s who you’d pick. Just listen to how people fall all over themselves for those who write massive checks, who dazzle the crowds, who win your applause. Of course, we wouldn’t look down on the second person, but if we’re forced to say who did more good, who did better deeds, we would have to admit that it was probably the first person.

            But were you listening closely to the first person’s reasons for doing those things? They were all about the doer. They were about maintaining status, feeling good about themselves, getting a break here or there, earning something, whether it’s tangible or intangible. Jesus has something to say about good deeds that are done for those sorts of reasons. In His teaching, Jesus said, “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes and like greetings in the marketplaces, things to be seen and noticed and recognized; and have the best seats in the synagogues, reserved for the largest donors, and the places of honor at feasts, where they can continue to socially rise; who devour widows’ houses, and in order to be seen and honored, make long, loud, public prayers.” And now listen to what those motivations will earn them in spite of how shiny those deeds look on the outside: “They will receive the greater condemnation.”

            Jesus is not impressed with the size or scope of works. He dresses down the scribes for all their impressive outward appearances, words, and deeds. Why? Because at the core, they’re about the doers. They’re about charging upward on their own steam, their own power. They’re about themselves.

            So then, who receives Jesus’ approval? What works are good by His measure? What does He see that we, with our limited vision, don’t? “And He sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the offering box.” Now the offering box at the temple treasury at this time had an opening like a large trumpet, a funnel made of metal. So, when people put their coins into it—as all currency in the temple was coins at the time—it would make noise; loud clanging with large amounts and tiny clinks with small amounts. So Jesus could see and hear when many rich people came and put in large sums. But now something happens that catches Jesus sight: “And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which make a penny. And he called his disciples to him and said to them, ‘Truly, I say to you, this widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”

            So what’s the difference between the first kind of works—those loud waterfalls of coins, that outwardly impressive work and big numbers—and the second work done by the widow—those two tiny coins that together made a penny, those little deeds that we wouldn’t disparage, but we wouldn’t rank them as all that important? The difference is faith.

            Those first works—impressive as they might seem, with every outward sign of being good and big and grand— are done with faith in the bigness of the works themselves. If they’re done for any reason that is not faith in Jesus—that He’s already done everything necessary for that person; that status and honor and praise and whatever other reward is nothing—then Jesus lets that deed pass without comment, just as He let those large sums go without saying a word about them. But if the work, even a tiny one, a small offering, a deed that we wouldn’t even think twice about—if it’s done in faith, done because of faith, that deed is more precious to Jesus and any great, impressive-to-the-eyes work. For a deed to make Jesus smile, it’s done because the doer is doing it without any expectation for reward, simply because Jesus has already won every reward for them. He’s already given them everything they’ll ever need, so now they can give freely and joyfully.

            In these final days of the Church year, we’re starting to think about Christ’s return. We’ll find ourselves looking forward to Him coming back to make a new heavens and a new earth, to bring about the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. And we’ll find ourselves wondering what to do during this waiting time for Him to return. The answer to that question, what to do in the meantime, is in our reading today: live your life out of your faith. That means do the good that the Lord has set in front of you. Don’t do it because you have to. Don’t do it because you think it might get you into a little bit better graces with Him. That’s not even possible. Through His cross and resurrection, you’re already God’s beloved child. He can’t love you more or think any better of you than He already does. You certainly don’t do it because you’re angling for a nice reward from the world that God wouldn’t give you freely.

            You do these good things, wherever you find them, however small or large they might be, you do good to others out of faith because you believe in Jesus. You believe that because of what Jesus accomplished in His life, death, and resurrection, you’ve been given so much that you can’t help but share it. God, the Creator of everything in heaven and earth, has become your Father. What would He possibly withhold from you if you’re giving your time, talent, treasure, or touch to someone who needs it? He’s your Father, and as His child, you’re just trying to resemble Him. So do the little things: call someone who you think might be having a hard time. Invite someone over for a meal because it seems like they could use it. Offer to shovel snow or rake leaves for someone who might not have time or the physical ability to do it. Watch someone’s kids so they can take care of something that needs taken care of.

            To the world, to your own eyes, it may not look like much. It might seem simple, basic, bland, and monochrome. You might even forget that you did it when they thank you for it later. Your left hand might not even know what your right hand is doing. That’s OK. You’re not in it for the reward. Your reward is already secure in Jesus. Your deeds are pleasing to God. They’re still good, no matter the scale. You are reflecting the goodness of your God to those who are sitting in need of good and gracious news. In the name of Jesus, who gives us everything. Amen.