In search of security
Who among us does not long for a sense of security, especially during challenging times such as these? Sadly, our yearning for security often causes us to cling to that which, when push comes to shove, provides little or no lasting stability and certainty.
Clutching for dear life onto that which feels safe, we avoid taking risks of any kind and in so doing, forfeit the life that really is life. We wrongly conclude that the more “stuff” we have, the more secure we will be, but the poor widow highlighted by Jesus in the 12th chapter of Mark’s gospel knew differently.
The story of the “widow’s mite” is familiar to many. As Jesus watched the crowd placing their offerings in the temple treasury, he noted that many rich people put in large sums of money. Then along came a poor widow, who placed just two small copper coins in the treasury — hardly enough to buy anything.
Imagine the surprise of Jesus’ disciples when he said to them, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”
While we might conclude the widow was foolish for giving away what little she had, Jesus viewed her act as faithfilled and courageous. The widow, whose financial security was lost when she lost her husband, knew that true security came from knowing where and in whom to place one’s trust — not in what or whom one possessed.
It is no coincidence that the Revised Common Lectionary, a prescribed set of scripture readings followed by many churches throughout the year, pairs the story of the widow’s mite with the story of Ruth and Naomi, two widows who also understood that in order to experience true security, one must be willing to take risks, stick together in community, and trust a God who more often than not operates in the background.
While Naomi and her family were in the land of Moab, having left their home in Judah because famine gripped the land, tragedy struck. First Naomi’s husband died, and not long after, both of her married sons died. When the famine finally ended, Naomi, bitter and emptyhanded, resolved to return to her home near Bethlehem, knowing full well it would be nothing like the homeland she had left.
She urged her Moabite daughters-in-law Orpah and Ruth, who began the journey with her, to return to Moab so they could start their lives anew in a place that was familiar to them, but Ruth refused to leave Naomi’s side. “Where you go, I will go; where you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people and your God my God.”
As Ruth and Naomi’s story unfolds, we see two widows taking risks together, against great odds, and securing a future that had little to do with accumulating possessions or clutching onto what felt safe and familiar. Their strength and security grew out of their trust in a God who was in the background, yet whose presence was evident as Ruth married Boaz and then gave birth to a son whose lineage included Jesse and David and would eventually lead to the birth of Jesus.
Three vulnerable widows teach us that true security comes when we dare to let go of the life we had planned in order to take hold of the life that is waiting for us. We are best able to do that when we choose to trust God, and when we recognize the value of being in community with kindred spirits who will be there for us on this journey called life.