The Poor Widow Casts Her Australian "Climate" Ballot (Mark 12, Luke 21)
Climate Bible Study: June 2022
The system of “secret ballots” whereby a voter marks his or her choice, originally on a scrap of paper and often in a private booth, dropping it anonymously in a collective box is called “The Australian Ballot.” The system was first introduced to the world in South Australia and Victoria in 1856, and quickly spread to European and North American democracies.
I woke up two Saturday mornings ago to a WhatsApp text from Laura Young of our Climate Intercessor’s leadership team. Australia’s Labor Party and the new PM Anthony Albanese had won in the polls and would be replacing the Scott Morrison government. Most news outlets acknowledged the role that climate change played in the vote: “Amanda McKenzie, CEO of the research group the Climate Council, declared climate action the winner of the vote. ‘Millions of Australians have put climate first. Now, it's time for a radical reset on how this great nation of ours acts upon the climate challenge,’ she said in a statement.” And indeed, “Labor has promised to cut emissions by 43% by 2030 and to reach net zero by 2050, partly by strengthening the mechanism used to pressure companies to make cuts.”
We prayed about this outcome, didn’t we? We made the Australian election a focus of our climate intercession ever since the previous administration’s poor performance at COP26 and their obstructionist stance against COP27. And we’ve prayed about elections in Colombia too, didn’t we? The same thing happened there on Sunday: the incumbent candidate and his party failed to make it into the run-offs.
Whenever I encounter a longed-for answer to prayer, I allow myself the joy and the smile. I make sure to say “thank you” to God. But then time passes, and I remember that God still acts as God without my counsel, and that Anthony Albanese is not Jesus Christ, and that the climate story is not over, nor is Australia’s, and that drawing a direct causative link between my prayers and God’s answer is the most ridiculous thing to crow about publicly. This is different than the wary pessimism that now “waits for the other shoe to drop.” Instead, I try to remember lessons learned from (and around) a Wendell Berry quotation. My favourite Wendell Berry novel is Jayber Crow, about a simple barber living a simple life in rural Port William, Kentucky. From the novel, I have heard many zealous Christians quote: “Perhaps all the good that has ever come here has come because people prayed it into the world.”
This quotation seems to validate all we believe, or at least hope, about prayer. Our efforts matter, and we participate in the triumph. But we mustn’t forget that this book is a fictional novel, not a treatise, and Berry has put those words in the mouth of a character, the narrator, Jayber—a man who, like all of us human beings, must live his life of faith in a world of complexity, and doubt. Furthermore, rarely does the full quotation make it into a Facebook meme. What Jayber completely says is:
Perhaps all the good that ever has come here has come because people prayed it into the world. How would a person know? How could divine intervention happen, if it happens, without looking like a coincidence, or luck? Does the world continue by chance (since it can hardly do so by justice) or by the forgiveness and mercy that some people have continued to pray for? (Berry, 253).
Jayber, like us, has questions. We, like Jayber, continue to press on. We continue to be the “some” people who continue to seek the forgiveness and mercy by which good comes into the world.
The day following the news of the Australian election results, I read another passage that also rings true with my current feelings:
In ancient Greece democracy was associated with the rule of the demos, i.e., the common people. In contrast, democracy has now been redefined in the United States and some other countries as a system in which individuals simply vote periodically for political entrepreneurs, who seek out their votes much like commercial interests seek out dollars in the marketplace. The essential content of democracy has therefore been eviscerated. So politically corrupted is the U.S. political system that instead of one person, one vote being the rule, an individual’s political influence is weighted according to his/her wealth, which determines how responsive politicians are to that individual’s interest” (Magdoff & Foster, 100).
All of this various mental input coalesced for me into one single image from Scripture, from Luke 21 and Mark 12. I saw a widow who was poorer than a barber from Kentucky. I saw rich people as powerful as Adani coal mining execs. I saw her drop something into a box, as if she were casting a vote, her “Australian ballot,” in an election. The gospel writers somehow knew that it was “two small coins,” so apparently the ballot wasn’t as a secret as all that. I wondered whether she wondered, as the disciples apparently did, “Would two mites make any difference in this world?” But then Jesus speaks and says, “I tell you the truth” (which in itself sets him apart from most campaigning politicians we hear). “This poor widow has given more than all the rest of them. For they have given a tiny part of their surplus, but she, poor as she is, has given everything she has.” The account in Mark 12 is even more graphic: “she has given everything she has to live on.”
This widow’s vote mattered. It mattered to Jesus, and that means that it matters to the world. Both accounts, in Luke and Mark, go immediately into a second significant story, though the connection is disrupted for us by chapter divisions or section sub-headings. The disciples turn from listening to Jesus’s commentary on the widow’s giving to marvelling at the construction of the Temple. In fact, whereas Jesus directed the disciples to look at the widow, the disciples told Jesus: “Teacher, look at these magnificent buildings! Look at the impressive stones in the walls.” (Mark 13:1). Jesus replies, “Yes, look at these great buildings. But they will be completely demolished. Not one stone will be left on top of another!” The passage that then follows is the famous Olivet Discourse: don’t be deceived, don’t fall for false messiahs, understand the troubles from which one’s riches will not protect, keep faithful watch for the sure coming of the Son of Man.
We are part of a great historical drama. Our two small coins matter. Our vote in an election matters. Our climate intercession prayers matter. But what matters most is that we give to God everything each time, no matter how small we feel in the grand historical sweep. The widow will be back next week, and the following week, and the following week.
You are very dear to God,
Lowell Bliss
on behalf of the Climate Intercessors Leadership Team