What We Learn When Jesus Watches

A sermon on Mark 12:38-44

[for an audio recording of this sermon, click here. Photo by zsun fu on Unsplash.com.]

You know how they say that 90% of human communication is non-verbal and only 10% is communicated through the words that we choose?

Between tone of voice, cadence, facial expressions, micro-expressions, and body language in general… human beings say a whole lot between and around ours words.

Which is sort of unfortunate when it comes to interpreting scripture, because the biblical record is definitely light on all of the non-verbal cues.

We get a lot of teaching, and a fair amount of dialogue, and plenty of plot. Lots of spoken words to capture God’s guidance and revelation.

But every once in a while, a gospel writer slips in a little narration that isn’t just about moving the action forward, and these little moments are worth paying attention to… because I think there is a lot being communicated in these non-verbal glimpses.

This week, as normal, we get mostly spoken teachings from Jesus, but we also get one sentence of non-verbal detail:

“(Jesus) sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury.” (Mark 12:41).

He sat… and he watched.

I wouldn’t be at all surprised if no one picked up on this bit of narration during the gospel reading. It’s not like there is any action happening, at least not until we get the comparison between the rich donors and the poor widow.

But that’s kind of the point that grabbed my attention: the intentional passivity of Jesus in this moment; the decision to sit and watch… to observe other people and the way that they participate in the life of the temple.

We’re used to seeing Jesus act: he teaches; he heals; he confronts; he feeds; he gathers; he prays; he suffers; he dies; he rises… he is at the center of the activity of the story.

But here he intentionally places himself on the sidelines.

I think this is important for at least two reasons.

The first is because it reminds us that God’s revelation in Christ does not follow the typical charismatic, hero script… it is not a revelation of power that remakes the world through domination or control.

As our new members class heard a few weeks ago, a core Lutheran teaching is the theology of the cross:  the understanding that God’s preferred way of showing up in the human story is to show up with the disempowered and the oppressed.

In opposition to the misguided theology of glory, which looks for displays of earthly wealth and power as evidence of God’s favor (a theology that has a sordid history of leading to oppression and idolatry)…

the theology of the cross looks for God on the margins.

It argues that God’s decision to put the cross at the center of the revelation in Jesus Christ (as Mark’s whole gospel is constructed to communicate), means that the cross gives us the clearest picture we can get of God.

And that picture is a picture of self-giving compassion… of Jesus willingly taking on our suffering, rather than letting the cup pass him by.

It’s a picture of prophetic righteousness… of Jesus speaking out against those who abuse power and pervert religion for their own gain, even though it gets him brutally killed.

It’s a picture of transformative love… of Jesus unconditionally pardoning the sinner hanging beside him and arranging for his mother and his closest friend to care for each other, even while he is literally dying.

In other words, it is a picture of willing vulnerability and the kind of change that happens through truth and relationship, NOT a picture of a God who demands blind obedience and imposes the divine will from a distance.

Not that we get all of that from Jesus finding a corner to sit and observe the happenings in the temple courtyard, of course.

But this description that captures a moment of his silence is a small reminder that the story of Jesus is the story of God with us, participating in life with us, and more that that… genuinely wanting to know us.

That’s this second reason that this verse has been living in my imagination this week: because I have been imagining Jesus watching the people with an earnest desire to see them.

I am aware that “God is watching” can very easily make God sound like a creepy stalker, if not a retributive Santa Clause looking to add our names to the naughty list… but that’s not the non-verbal communication vibe I get from this gospel story.

I hear that he sat down and watched before calling his inner circle to process what he saw, and I imagine him watching in order to understand what was really happening in the hearts of the people who had come to his father’s house to offer their devotion.

I see his eyes tracking each of their non-verbal cues:

Watching the self-important posture and the sideways glances of those who were looking to make sure others saw the size of their generous donations.

And also watching the slight pause I imagine as the widow raised her hand to deposit her offering, the anxious hesitation followed by the decision to trust.

I see Jesus watching this all and recognizing the significance of each action, but especially the significance of the widow’s.

That is the one he comments on.

That’s the one he draws his disciples’ attention to.

That’s the one he teaches them to see as important.

This week, especially, I find this an encouraging insight... because it means that even the smallest action that we take to serve God and support God’s work in the world is seen and valued by Jesus.

On a week when I know a lot of you are feeling powerless and defeated, I hope it is encouraging to know that Jesus is watching and valuing even the small things that are within your capacity to do…

By advancing justice in small ways;

or by offering kindness to the people you can reach, especially the ones who feel vulnerable and afraid;

or by witnessing in a myriad of ways to the truth of who Jesus is, and what his journey to the cross reveals about God with us to counteract the idolatrous messages of Christian nationalism that are so rampant.

I also hope that on a week when our congregation is welcoming new members, it is encouraging to each person in this community (new or not) to know that Jesus sees the importance of each and every small or big way that you contribute to our life together.

Maybe it’s a modest gift dropped in the offering plate that translates as trust for you,

Or a willingness to show up early on a Sunday to open the church to a new partner,

Or the dedication of your time to long council meetings on a Sunday night,

Or any of the hundreds of other ways that we give… not just out of our abundance but out of ourselves to join in the work of being church in the world.

The final talking point that I always include in our new members class is the reminder that “church is a verb.”

We don’t go to church; we are the church.

It’s a big idea, but it comes down to small actions. The kinds of things that don’t always draw attention, unless someone sits and watches to look for the evidence of how our faith shapes our lives.

As your pastor, I get to see that evidence in this community, and I cannot tell you how much it nourishes my soul on my hardest days.

But much more importantly, I know that Jesus sees it to.

Because he watches for it.

And he values it.

And he joins us in it.

Thanks be to God.