You can be like a scribe or you can be like a widow. You can have substantial wealth, fancy clothes, front seats, and unquestioning respect from your neighbors, or you can have very little money and no spouse. You choose. Who is your role model? Honestly?

Mark juxtaposes two vignettes in next Sunday's Gospel (12:38-44), two stories that really get us thinking. The first concerns scribes. Scribes were experts in the law and in theology. They were highly regarded as religious leaders of their day. They got places of honor at synagogues and pillowed couches at banquets. When they walked through the town square, people greeted them like celebrities. They lived the life of Riley.

Jesus didn't like scribes. For example, he says, "They devour the houses of widows." We're not talking gingerbread here. Scribes probably had access to the final disposition of a deceased husband's possessions. Unscrupulous as they were knowledgeable, they could manipulate the law to appropriate for themselves the possessions of the bereaved.

Scribes didn't pray right either. They said long prayers. Boring prayers. Prayers that left their lips cold and arrived stale at the ears of God. They did it as a pretext. They wanted people to think they were devout. They weren't. If long prayers fooled people into thinking the scribes deserved more respect, they would recite prayers till the cows came home and the calves fell asleep.

There was another reason Jesus didn't care much for scribes. They tried to kill him. Mark frequently lumped the scribes with chief priests and Pharisees - other leaders of religion. In this passage, the scribes appear by themselves. You would think that a religious figure such as Jesus would say positive things about other religious figures such as scribes. But not when they want his head. His first words about them in this passage are "Beware of the scribes." Not imitate them: beware of them.

In this Gospel, nonetheless, Jesus complains about the scribes not for their bloodlust, but for their greedy hands and fraudulent prayer.

Widows were another story. In the hands of scribes, widows were victims. But they were already outcast. With no husband to provide for them, they relied upon the generosity of their children and the charity of society. Life was not easy for widows. There were no IRAs, Social Security, dividends, annuities, and pensions for them. After a life of love, care, and childbirth, they ended their days at the mercy of those who had more.

When a widow shows up in the second half of next Sunday's Gospel, she lets Jesus draw a lesson from the behavior of those whom society prefers to ignore. She reaches deep into her purse, finds two coins - all that she has - and plunks them into a coffer outside the temple. Ka-ching. Ka-ching. She literally put in her two cents.

Now this part always makes my hair stand on end. Jesus was lounging around there watching the whole thing. He watched not just her, but everybody. You see, there's this collection box outside the temple to provide for the upkeep of the building. And the wealthy are coming by day and night, and they've got buckets of cash. They're stuffing it into the box. They're plunking in hundreds of coins. And they're doing this in full view of everyone there, especially Jesus. Jesus, who has positioned himself near this box, obligingly inspects what each person puts in.

Imagine when you show up at church next Sunday that Jesus is standing near the poor box, and he's watching to see who puts in how much and who just walks by. That's what was going on at the temple that day.

So Jesus hears the hollow jingle, twice, and declares this woman is unique. In fact, he is so impressed with her, that he huddles up the disciples and says, "Amen, I say to you" - his favorite expression for "Listen up." He continues, "This poor widow put in more than all the other contributors to the treasury." He didn't flunk math. He was working percentages. The wealthy tithed. She gave it all.

So, who would you rather be like? The scribe who has it all or the widow who gave it all? If we're honest, we realize that we would rather not be the one Jesus wants us to be. What can you do about it? How can you let Jesus know this week that you mean to give it all for the sake of the Gospel?

Father Paul Turner is the pastor of St. Munchin Parish in Cameron.

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