Lent Day 36: Tuesday in Holy Week: A Living Parable

The Poor Widow, Maarten de Vos, 1602 *

Tuesday of Holy Week encompasses nearly three chapters of the gospel of Mark. There is much to choose from.  Let's meditate upon the story we call "The Widow's Mite." Scripture can be found here.

If you'd asked, I'm not sure I could have told you that this moment in Jesus' ministry takes place during Holy Week, but here it is, tucked in among his complaints about the religious authorities, his predictions of the Temple's destruction, and what sound an awful lot like apocalyptic musings. (Spoiler was there all along: a portion of this is called "the little apocalypse.")

The scene begins with a bitter complaint against the scribes--a passage that always makes this religious-figure-wearing-a-long-robe-while-reading-it cringe just a little. We do like our robes, I'm not gonna lie.

Jesus says, 

“Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.”

Jesus condemns religious leaders who enrich themselves, and in the process bankrupt those who have little to begin with. This passage transfers seamlessly to late 20th-early 21st century American Christianity; just substitute "televangelists" for "scribes" and you're good to go.

This is the essential background for understanding what happens next. Jesus seats himself near the treasury, so that he can see who gives and how much. And to be sure, lots of money is being ostentatiously given by wealthy patrons of the Temple. Then, a poor widow--see above--puts in two small copper coins.

For years I read Jesus' words as words of praise of the widow--"She gave all she had." I preached sermons containing meaningful stories of people with very little who managed to give generously. My favorite was about a guy who lived on the money he got from collecting recyclable cans, who still gave the youth group $20 towards their can drive. "He gave us 400 cans," I said, as I preached this story from the heart.

Now I'm pretty sure I got that terribly, terribly wrong. Now, I hear the echo of "devouring widows' houses" in Jesus' remarks about the poor widow. Now, I hear Jesus' voice thick with tears, because he knows the widow is literally sacrificing herself on the altar of someone else's greed, and it sickens him.

Now I think of the widow as a living parable, not about her own generosity, but about the greed that demands it of her, in the name of her faith, in the name of piety. Now, I believe Jesus is angry about it. And he's right.

If you have a moment, look at the image of the poor widow. See if you can spot her. She's dimly lit, in darkness, because we would really rather not see her. But that's what Jesus does; he sees people. He sees those the rest of us turn away from. 

Maarten de Vos got it in 1602. He understood exactly what this parable is about. 

We know who will receive the greater condemnation.

* Image: Vos, Maarten de, 1532-1603. Poor Widow, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56664 [retrieved April 12, 2022]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Maerten_de_Vos_-_The_poor_widow.jpg. Used with permission.