Watching people
make their offerings might today be considered an invasion of privacy, but that
is exactly what Jesus does here. In something more reminiscent of my African
experience when, in both Zimbabwe and Zambia, I have watched, and joined in, as
everyone dances their way to the front and to the offertory plate, though the
amount given tends to be relatively private. Here Jesus notices many rich
people putting in large sums. Presumably there were also many whose offerings were
more moderate in line with their means. But then the spotlight is turned on a
poor widow who is only able to contribute a tiny amount. In monetary terms her
offering is of very little value, but the gift is all she has, and so actually
amounts to the most sacrificial giving possible. She has frequently been
commended for her amazing generosity.
But is the point
that Jesus is making rather different? Is this, in fact, a further attack on
the demands of the Temple system? Is this, as Ched Myers (Binding the Strong Man) suggests – a story of a widow being impoverished
by her obligations to the temple cultus”? Myers further suggests that this
has been “long mishandled as a quaint vignette about the superior piety of
the poor.”
On this reading, the suggestion is that nobody
should be put in such an unacceptable position. God surely cannot want this
lady to give away the tiny and inadequate means of survival that she possesses.
I wonder if there are situations in which we have unreasonable expectations of
some others.
Her sacrifice may appear commendable, but it
could rather be seen as foolhardy, and, whichever of those is the case, surely
there is something deeply flawed in a system which requires this donation from
such an impoverished widow. Perhaps Jesus is actually returning to the points
he was trying to make when he chased away those who were selling and buying in
the temple precincts and overturned the tables of the moneychangers. Perhaps
this story is not about generosity, but about exploitation. As Myers points out
– “the temple has robbed this woman of her very means of livelihood. Like
the scribal class, it no longer protects widows, but exploits them.” I
wonder if there are places where we should be challenging exploitation.
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