Meet Sophia

Message for the First Sunday of Advent, Year C (11/10/2024)

Psalm 146 & Mark 12:38-44

What kind of world do you long for?

Advent isn’t just a season to wait dutifully for the birthday of a child from long ago and far away. It’s not about biding our time until Christmas. That ship has already sailed; just take a glance at the holiday display in any department store. No, it’s not until the last Sunday of Advent (December 22nd this year) that the assigned readings allude to God’s incarnation in Jesus. The rest of Advent scripture is about the promise of God’s kingdom come on Earth as in heaven, in the past, yes, in the present, and in the future. In other words, Advent is about yearning for the world as it should be, as God intends it to be, even as we persevere in the world as it is. Let that be permission to take time this season to grieve what’s wrong, and to pay closer attention to our sacred tradition’s vision of the world made right.

In this expanded season of Advent– seven weeks as opposed to the standard four– each Sunday will correspond to one of the O Antiphons, or Great Advent Antiphons, those classic appeals for messianic intervention dating to the sixth century, or even earlier. We are familiar with the Antiphons on account of the popular hymn “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” #257 in the red hymnal: “O come, O Wisdom from on high,” “O Come, O Lord of might”; “O King of nations”; “O Branch of Jesse”; “O Key of David”; “O Dayspring,” or Morning Star; “O come, O come, Emmanuel,” come and rescue us, we who “mourn in lonely exile here.”

On the first Sunday of Advent, we cry out for wisdom: “O come, O Wisdom from on high, embracing all things far and nigh; in strength and beauty come and stay; teach us your will and guide our way.” It’s a popular notion that wisdom is something gained with lived experience, something achieved. But Holy Scripture attests that wisdom has its origin in God. And in a striking reversal of expectations, divine wisdom is depicted consistently in female terms. The word itself is grammatically feminine– sophia in Greek, for instance. But more significantly, divine Wisdom is personified as a woman:

Does not wisdom call
  and understanding raise her voice?
   On the heights, beside the way,
  at the crossroads she takes her stand;
   beside the gates in front of the town,
  at the entrance of the portals she cries out:
   “To you, O people, I call,
  and my cry is to all who live.
   O simple ones, learn prudence;
  acquire intelligence, you who lack it.
   Hear, for I will speak noble things,
  and from my lips will come what is right,
   for my mouth will utter truth;
  wickedness is an abomination to my lips.

The fear of the Lord is hatred of evil.
 Pride and arrogance and the way of evil
  and perverted speech I hate.
   I have good advice and sound wisdom;
  I have insight; I have strength.
   By me kings reign,
  and rulers decree what is just;
   by me rulers rule,
  and nobles, all who govern rightly.”[1]

According to the biblical witness, Sophia/Wisdom is a bold street preacher, a prophet calling the people away from evil, pride, and arrogance, and toward prudence and justice.[2] Notice that hers is a message especially for kings and rulers: only by attending to Wisdom herself can authorities exercise power rightly.

Today’s Gospel from Mark also features a woman in the public square. She doesn’t speak, nevertheless she provides Jesus with an occasion to expose the ways of the world in the spirit of Sophia/Wisdom:

He sat down opposite the treasury and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. Then he called his disciples and 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.”

This scene at the temple treasury is inextricable from Jesus’ critique of the elite in the preceding verses: “Beware of the scribes…. They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.” That is, be warned against any institution that preserves itself on the backs of powerless people. Under God’s just reign, that institution will not stand.

Israel has a long prophetic tradition of defending the interests of the widow, the orphan, the foreigner, the poor– in short, those whom we typically relegate to the margins.[3] Consider, for instance, the Psalm for today:

[The Lord] gives justice to those who are oppressed, and food to those who hunger. The Lord sets the captive free…. The Lord cares for the stranger; the Lord sustains the orphan and widow, but frustrates the way of the wicked.

How does this tradition color the story of the widow’s offering? Notice that Jesus does not commend the woman for her generosity, but only points out her circumstances. All the others “have contributed out of their abundance,” he remarks, “but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.” As the widow leaves the treasury, in other words, she is ruined. Is this what faithful stewardship requires, that the poor hand over the last of what they have to keep the system running smoothly? Or, is this an illustration of precisely the kind of injustice Jesus has just condemned in the previous verses?

The traditional interpretation is that the widow’s offering is to be celebrated as an example of faithful giving. But it’s not enough to place the poor widows of the world on a pedestal and admire them from a safe distance.[4] Sacrifice is devastating for those who have little to give, and wickedness prevails when power brokers thrive on the sacrifices of others. So, Jesus directs our attention to the margins, inviting us to notice the widows of the world and to be joined with them in sacrificial love.

Friends, that’s the kind of world that I long for. And that is the call of Sophia/Wisdom, indeed, the call of Christ himself, God’s anointed for whom we wait this Advent season, who “comes to break oppression, to set the captive free, to take away transgression and rule in equity.”[5]

[1] Proverbs 8:1-7, 13-16.

[2] Elizabeth A. Johnson, She Who Is: The Mystery of God in Feminist Theological Discourse, 87.

[3] See Rodger Y. Nishioka, in Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 4, 284.

[4] See Emilie M. Townes, in Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 4, 286.

[5] James Montgomery, “Hail to the Lord’s Anointed,” Evangelical Lutheran Worship, Assembly Edition, #311.

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