Reflection: “I Saw the Rich Ones.”
“I Saw the Rich Ones” is the title of a hymn in More Voices that we will be invited to sing after the reflection. It is based on the text which Jane Nicholls shared with us this morning, and the first verse sings, “I saw the rich ones; I saw what they gave.
The widow who offered two pennies she’d saved /and I saw she was smiling. I knew she was glad/ and I wondered because she gave all that she had. /But with God the world is turned upside down /the poor are embraced and the lost they are found. /Let’s work for a world where all people are free /where it’s good to feel good about God loving you and me.”
This story, often titled the Poor Widow, is memorable. There are a few remarkable juxtapositions Jesus makes for us, the hearers, to notice. The most well-known one is the contrast of wealth and poverty. Those who wear long robes that would make it difficult to work on the dusty ground, but instead, walk graciously. Those who are greeted even if they are surrounded by the crowd in a marketplace. Those who get the best seats in a worship place; those who have received such an education and special training on how to pray, or how to read scripture, that their words are eloquent and long. These people, including priests and scribes at that time, belong to not just to the religious elite; they are wealthy. Some lay people also contribute to the temple by donating large sums of money.
On the contrary, Jesus pays special attention to a poor woman, who does not have the status of marriage; she has lost her husband, her breadwinner. She is poor; her life is hard, yet she offers everything she has - two small copper coins, which are worth about a penny. In that moment, Jesus compares the rich people who can contribute out of their abundance to the poor woman who puts in everything she has. It is about how society, now and then, perpetuates class and wealth inequity and excludes those who are deemed less valuable, insignificant, depending on their possessions and monetary contribution. In this story, the poor woman’s contribution does not lead to social change or a financial miracle; she stays poor.
Now, even if the Gospel writer may have omitted or neglected this detail (on purpose or without intention), there is another important disparity that plays a role in the story. Who are the rich in the story? “Rich” in this story does not only indicate an economic/financial abundance but an assumed superiority in terms of class/authority, represented clearly in clericalism: The clergy who are able to attain privileges as a priest or scribe, or some other role within the system, display their power in various ways, such as impractical garments. Their robes are unnecessarily long, inhibiting ordinary activity (thus separating them from daily lay activities — whatever they are: cooking, washing, serving others, lifting heavy stuff and carrying it, you name it). At that time, all clergy were absolutely male — which is still the same in many churches and societies — , each of them so much more elevated, more powerful, than the lay woman who is also poor.
I share this reflection as I begin to think about what my role and identity can mean as someone who is “ordained”. Even if I do my best to demonstrate or practice a non-hierarchical understanding of vocation and teamwork with lay leaders in ministry, I need to re-examine what I claim, express, preserve, inherit, and cherish attached to the tradition of the ordained path, which traditionally has been the preserve of men only. (My models of the ordained path are Teresa of Avila and Kay Cho, to name a few. It is the sense that before me, many women and queer people have walked this path and made a difference.)
You are my ministers. And I am a minister among many ministers, pastors, like you, who try to live out our call to follow Jesus in our capacity, accepting old struggles and defining new hopes day by day. And yet, there is also something special to the path I chose. My gender, my lived experience, my relationships pertaining to my personal identity is the context to the ordained vocation/work, and this interconnection is important to me. In fact, I like many things that this identity, this role, this work offer and enable in my life. However, in a recent discussion with friends, I learned more about “clericalism” and was enlightened about how clericalism may still have an influence or impact that disempowers lay leaders and friends whom I work with, together, sharing our common purpose and faith.
Am I a rich one? If so, how? Are you a rich one? If so, how?
How could we innovate and re-define “rich” in our lives?
What exactly is clericalism? In the Roman Catholic faith tradition, clericalism manifests itself with the belief and practice that only ordained clergy have any true authority to make decisions and can do so without input from lay people. (Cozzens 2000) Pope Francis, in his address to the Synod Fathers at Synod2018 gave the following definition of clericalism: “Clericalism arises from an elitist and exclusivist vision of vocation, that interprets the ministry received as a power to be exercised rather than as a free and generous service to be given.”
In the article, “How Do You Recognize Clericalism?”, the Archdiocese of Vancouver Clericalism Committee tries to combat “The inherent evil of clericalism” within both the laity and clergy of the Catholic church in Vancouver, and it has come up with a working definition of clericalism: “Clericalism is a misplacement of responsibility with little or no accountability of the ordained ministers and lay faithful in the people of God. This leads the faithful and ordained clergy to expect that ordained ministers are better than and should rule over everyone else among the People of God, which further leads to abuses of power and hinders the universal call to holiness and the mission of evangelism.”
In my twenties and thirties, I often found myself vulnerable in various situations which clericalism in the church caused, reinforced by patriarchy. I directly and indirectly went through the pains that clericalism, conjoined with patriarchy, created. An example is the assumed gender-based expectation, reverence, and/or harassment against the wife of an ordained husband. At the same time, I found a path towards ordination as something that opened to me, as the way to “Struggle to be the Sun again”. I rediscovered the sense of vocation which I buried when I was a child, told that ordained ministry was only for boys. I left Korea and enrolled myself at Vancouver School of Theology. There began my journey towards ordination, and I started writing an open-ended book that now has many chapters.
Ordination is a rich tradition and experience; it has allowed me to own some beautiful privileges (for example, being asked to be part of someone’s life, when my presence means care and celebration). However, I will learn and examine how hierarchical notions of clericalism and power and privilege are still carried in the ordained identity I have adopted to and in my practice. I will acknowledge the power imbalance/difference among the ordained personnels and the laity even in the United Church of Canada. Immanuel United Church has been wonderful; my true education on dismantling hierarchy started the moment I was offered the ministership here. You clearly stated from the beginning that you would like me to be part of your team, equal and free.
We see the rich ones in our lives and in the world. How we define “rich”, who we call rich, our very concept of wealth can change. We can innovate the meaning of “rich”, remembering the words of Jesus and others in the Bible. Jesus says, if being rich means power, privilege, turning a closed eye to oppression, abuse and the status quo, rich ones can never enter the shalom of God, just as it is impossible for a camel to go through the eye of a needle. Let’s be God’s version of “rich ones” in our ministry together, in the world, as the meaning of being rich is “turned upside down”.
Hymn: MV 127 I Saw the Rich Ones
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