Sermon from October 23

**A note:  Because I preach without the manuscript, every sermon is different than what is written here.  I feel that this sermon, in particular, was pretty different than the manuscript.  Not that one is better than the other, but just wanted to let you know.**

Luke 20:45-21:4

Jesus Denounces the Scribes

 In the hearing of all the people he said to the disciples, ‘Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and love to be greeted with respect in the market-places, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honour at banquets. They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.’

The Widow’s Offering

He looked up and saw rich people putting their gifts into the treasury;he also saw a poor widow put in two small copper coins. He said, ‘Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them; for all of them have contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in all she had to live on.’

It’s easy for us to name people whom we would label as evil. The name Hitler is usually the first to arise in people’s minds—he is portrayed as the pinnacle of evil, a man willing to kill millions simply because they were different. I have a book discussing nonviolence titled What About Hitler, based on the idea that surely we can use violence against someone like Hitler.

What’s more difficult, for me, is to figure out how someone gets to that point. I don’t believe that Hitler woke up one morning and decided to be the world’s epitome of evil. I don’t think Stalin spent time on the playground as a child thinking about the best way to exterminate millions. I don’t believe evil takes over someone’s life in a matter of minutes—I believe that its influence becomes greater and greater over a period of time, until a person is almost completely unrecognizable from who they once were. I believe that a slow, gradual process takes place and masks the image of God so completely it’s hard to see it at all. Just like the power of water can carve the Grand Canyon given enough time, so, too, can evil transform the landscape in someone’s life.

It may seem a bit dramatic to turn from a discussion on Stalin and Hitler to the scribes, who pale in comparison to such evil, but I believe that what we learn from one can be applied to the other.

In the beginning of our lesson today, the scribes are not lifted up in a positive light by Jesus. Beware the scribes, who like to walk in long robes, who love to be greeted with respect, and love to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor in the banquets. They devour widows’ houses and say long prayers for the sake of appearances.

In the beginning, they’re hypocrites, empty houses that look great on the outside, but have no heart for God on the inside. By the end of the passage, though, they’re devouring widows’ houses. They hypocrisy harms others—the widows who give offering to support them are supporting expensive lifestyles. The scribes want more, so the widows give more. It would be no different than if I asked you all to raise $1 million so I could go live in a massive house that I didn’t need. It would be a burden on you that would do nothing for the Kingdom. Jesus is warning the disciples to watch how they live.

But I want to propose that the scribes didn’t just wake up one morning and decide to rob the widows. They didn’t decide to be hypocrites because it seemed like the right thing to do. Rather, I would propose, the influence of evil grew daily, and they stopped fighting. At first, they decided they needed a little fancier robe, and they decided they liked not sitting in the back row. They believed that a fancier robe would satisfy their needs—they didn't turn from God with intent, they rather turned toward the things of this world, hopeful that they could find what they needed there. Soon, the robes got fancier and fancier, and they welcomed flattery more and more, and soon they had the best robes in town, and would only frequent places that welcomed them with an over-the-top reception. It wasn’t long before they were asking widows for more and more without giving any thought to the widows. It didn’t happen overnight—and I would imagine that if you told them at the beginning what they would turn out like, they would have been horrified. But little by little, their hearts were corroded, and soon a Grand Canyon appeared, a giant gulf into which any good disappeared, leaving only an outside appearance. They thought they could be satisfied by the things of this world, but in turn the world only led them farther away from God. Jesus warns the disciples.

He warns us, too—be careful how you live. Be careful about the little decisions you make, because over time, those little decisions make us. If you cheat a little now, you’ll be cheating a lot later. Cut a corner now, and you’ll be cutting two before you know it. Evil’s influence grows, which is why we need to be resistant to sin, even tiny sins, because small sins grow into large ones. It’s why those who have been through Alcoholics Anonymous can’t take even one drink now, because one drink leads to two, and two leads to three, and soon the walls are crashing down around one’s ears. Be careful with sin. The second you begin to believe that the things of this world can satisfy your deepest needs is the same second the world steps in to make promises—and it's the same moment you're led a little father from God.

It’s interesting to think about where Jesus is saying this. He’s teaching them this by the treasury, where he is sitting watching people deposit gifts. Notice that Jesus sits with the disciples and watches people give. What we give matters to Jesus, but even more important than that is why we give—which is what Jesus is trying to teach the disciples.

This poor widow, with her two copper coins, has put in more than the rich. They have contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty. She has put in all she had to live on.

Jesus lifts up these two contrasting attitudes—those who give out of wealth, and those who give out of poverty. Notice that he doesn’t say that what or how the wealthy give is bad—he simply lifts up the poor widow as having given more. But he’s making a radical point, one we lose when we debate what percentage of our income we ought to give, one we lose when we wonder whether we should give on net or gross income (and just for the record, if you have enough money to have this debate, it should be given on your gross income. But I digress)—he’s making the point that the widow gives more because she gives all she has to live on, meaning that she is completely dependent on God for sustenance. She recognizes that God alone can give her what she needs—that money cannot give her anything she needs—only extras. And she’s made the decision that she doesn’t need the extras.

In short, God has satisfied her.

Satisfaction is an interesting idea for us to talk about today. I heard a great preacher talking about satisfaction in terms of a good meal—about how you couldn't possibly want another bite. When we are satisfied, we don't want any more. When we are satisfied, we couldn't hold any more. We have no reason to desire anything else when we are truly satisfied.

The struggle we have is that only Christ can truly satisfy us. The world offers us all sorts of satisfaction—but only Christ truly satisfies. And, when we are satisfied, when we are living by faith in Christ, our relationship to money is fundamentally changed.

Think about the ways we view money now. Think about how important we make it out to be. We place so much value on money—on the accumulation of it, on how we spend it, on how much others have. No one would have any idea who Warren Buffet was if he didn't have so much money—he's a quiet old man who has accumulated billions through investing. But we know him as inordinately wealthy. We are often guilty of ranking people by their wealth—as though that has any effect on the kind of people they are, as though that affects how God sees them. We worry about money all the time in our own lives—we worry that we don't have enough, or that we're not saving enough, or that we're not spending it on the right things. We worry about money, about making it and losing it, and it's so hard to come to grips with it, because we think we need so much of it to live.

The reality is that you don't need any of it.

That's right—I said it. You don't need money. If you didn't have a dime and lived on the street, you'd still have the most important thing in this world—a relationship with Jesus Christ. Nothing else matters as much as that life-giving relationship. You may die of hypothermia if you don't have enough money, but nothing can seperate you from the love of Christ. And when we're living in Christ, when we're centered in Christ, we are satisfied, and we don't need anything else. Other things are nice additions, or add some color or flavor in life, but nothing can meet our needs, because every need is met in Christ.

It's why the old widow wasn't afraid to give every dime—because she was completely satisfied.

It's why so many of us are afraid to give more—because we think money can meet needs that it can't.

When we're in Christ, our relationship to money is fundamentally changed. Money cannot meet our needs, because there are no more needs for it to meet. It can only adorn the walls, or dress up some dark corners, but money is merely a tool for us to use, to give away, to wonder how Christ can use. When we're in Christ, money becomes something that is fun to imagine how God might use it. When we're in Christ, money is superfluous, and we can rest easy, knowing that the single most important thing in our life is taken care of, and that nothing can tear us away from the one who satisfies our every need.

Let us pray