The Widow's Little Gift

The Widow's Little Gift

Luke 21

Karl Evans

Jesus made his long pilgrimage at last. It was to be the last long journey of his short but eventful life. Before making his way to Jerusalem, Jesus first traveled all over Galilee. He went down into the Decapolis.

Jesus wanted to go to Scythopolis. This Greek city had a major university. The people were skilled in critical thinking, and in debate. Jesus enjoyed discussions of theology, and politics, and reason, and life itself. Scythopolis would provide him with a great challenge. He never made it. Jesus did, however, take some rest and recreation. He moved easily around the tourist cities of Tyre and Sidon on the Mediterranean coast.

Jesus’ followers were most at home around the Sea of Galilee. Jesus seemed to enjoy spending most of his ministry there. This native of Nazareth knew and honored the traditions of the Hebrew people. One great tradition was that the greatest of the prophets would always come from the area of Galilee.

Now Jesus’ ministry was nearing its zenith. He led his small band down from the hill country of Galilee to the southern territories of Palestine. Jesus met Zacheus in Jericho and shared a meal with him. He had given Bartimaeus back his sight at the gate of Jericho. Now in the final passage of his pilgrimage, Jesus left Jericho to come up the long hill to Jerusalem.

In the holiest city of all Jesus now stood before the most holy building in all the world, the great temple of the Jews. Jesus’ eyes widened at its beauty and majesty. The temple no longer held much gold and precious stones. These were long since stolen by despotic rulers, invading mercenaries and unscrupulous priests.

The presence of the temple in Jerusalem spoke volumes of the theology and faith of the Jews. Its design reflected the sentiment of the Jewish people that their god, Yahweh, was the god of the entire universe.

Carved stones and hanging drapes covered the walls of the temple. Statuary and ornaments graced the gateways and door posts and walls. Temple workers embedded the many doors and columns and fixtures with emeralds and rubies.

Hundreds and sometimes thousands of people came into this beautiful scenario on a daily basis. The faithful came to make sacrifices and prayers. Scholars and students came to study the Torah. Questioners came to talk to the priests. Pilgrims came to visit this holiest of holy places. Tourists came to take in the sights. Some came for all these.

On this day, few had any sense the Son of God was teaching in the temple. Nearly everyone was looking to their own needs, or the realities of the crowds. Nothing special.

Marian came to the temple early. She knew nothing of the Messiah teaching in the temple. If she had known, she would have immediately struggled to touch him, or call out his name. She did not know. Rather, Marian came to the Temple to make her gift. She only cared about her God.

Some might say this was not an easy thing for Marian to do. Some would say Marian really had to force herself to give in this way. Some would say that, but it would not be true. Forcing herself to give was not in the way of Marian. Marian, the widow. Marian, the hard worker. Marian, the survivor.

Twelve long years ago Stalyk had died, leaving her alone in Jerusalem. It was quick and unexpected, his death. Since that sad day Marian made this trip, day after day after day. Every day. On the sabbath she carried a different load.

On the sabbath her visit to the temple was different, but she still made the trip. Good weather and bad, hot and cold. Once Marian had been married to Stalyk. They had a good home of their own. Now Marian, the widow, was married only to Yahweh, and the temple was their home.

It wasn't a long trip, only a few minutes, perhaps a mile. It was usually a pleasant walk even when she walked the hill in the heat of the day. On those days she shaded herself with the hood of her robe.

At first she had not noticed all the people along the route. After a few months she became more familiar with the people, and with the animals. She spoke to them as she passed and they came to expect her to walk by each day. Shopkeepers, beggars, children and others, like herself, just kept on keeping on.

Lately Marian simply walked, and kept walking. She always kept her mind on two things. First, she must be in the temple. Second, she must keep on keeping on and keeping on.

Stalyk had been a shoe maker, a sandal maker, a leather and wood worker by trade. He was quite good at making sandals. Many wealthy people came to him for sandals. Many poor came as well. Stalyk sold all he could make. These were good sandals. Stalyk made the sandals many different ways. Some were all of leather. Some had wood soles and leather straps. Some had cloth pads on the straps, or perhaps bits of metal or stone for decoration.

Sometimes the customers called on Stalyk to make harness for horses or donkeys. Sometimes, when he had time to spare, he made leather and wood shields for soldiers or guards. It was simple work for a good leather worker, and easy money. Stalyk would rather have just been making sandals.

Stalyk was a good man, a strong man. He should have lived a long time. It would have been a good life for Stalyk and Marian. Except for the fighting.

A street battle caught Stalyk between Roman soldiers and zealot guerilla fighters. He was killed just down the street from his home by a ricocheting Roman arrow.

When Stalyk died, Marian began her daily routine. She did what she must to survive as best she could in a world long before the coming of Equal Rights.

Long before women were released from being chattel -- some would say cattle -- status, life was not easy. Marian was forced to make her way in a hostile society. This society held a trap for widows and women driven out by their husbands. Many were forced to live the life of a prostitute or slave to survive. Not Marian. She was strong enough to stave off that degradation.

Marian had learned the sandal trade from Stalyk as they had worked together in the shop. Stalyk had learned from his father. Now Marian learned to cut and sew leather. She learned to work leather just right so it would be supple and soft to not rub blisters.

After Stalyk's death Marian carried on the business alone. Being a woman in the craft was difficult. The purchase of leather was perhaps the most frustrating portion. The leather sellers in the market expected any woman to be weak-willed and incapable of sharp trading. Sometimes the traders even refused to bargain with her for the top quality skins.

Some unethical entrepreneurs made a point of attempting to force the lesser quality of skin on Marian. Some demanded a premium price for their own shoddy material and handiwork. Marian could only smile at their greed and move to another trader.

Sometimes friends would give her bits and pieces of leather, wood or cloth to use. Most of her neighbors and relatives depended on her for their own sandal work. Those close to her often gave her a little extra, just to help her hang on. Marian never made much money.

Days passed into each other as she struggled to keep going. The passage of time meant little to Marian. Except for the sabbath, that is. On every day but the sabbath, Marian rose before dawn to make her little meals for the day. Marian usually had some bread, a little fish and meal. On some celebrative occasion she might share a chicken or a piece of lamb or mutton with a friend.

She spent the day at the market. Marian persistently showed her handmade sandals to potential customers. She took her knife and needles with her. Marian had good skill to make on-the-spot repairs for waiting customers. Someone eager to have their sandals repaired seemed to always appear at mealtime. Her skill and willingness to work were a lifesaver. The footwear was all that stood between tender feet and burning sand and rough stone of Jerusalem streets.

Most of Marian's customers paid her in the time-honored way of all the world, in trade, in barter. Some had flour. Others had fish. Some had wood or metal or jewels. Some even had money.

Marian knew the money was most precious. She could trade such coin for almost anything. It could go for services such as doctors, or for the entertainers that set up shop around the town at night. In Marian’s dreams, the coin could go for perfume, or for jewels. She never spent any on those things, but Marian knew it was possible. She could hold the money for the days Marian did not feel well enough to work. Yet something else called for the money in Marian's life.

Since the fighting had killed Stalyk, many things troubled Marian. She had seen the Roman soldiers come and go. She saw the constant fights with the guerrillas who came in off the desert. They irritated the Roman garrison, then ran back into the hills. The fighters never had much opportunity to really do damage to the Roman army. The Roman legions were too many and too well armed. The fighters just pestered the Romans; even killed a few of them. They could not finally defeat the Romans.

Marian saw death and destruction in the streets. The fighters and the soldiers were not the only ones who suffered the ills of society. She saw families breaking up over wine-drinking. She saw men and women and children wandering homelessly about the streets. They had no shelter, no sanctuary from the cold. Many had no sandals, or no blankets.

Marian saw hunger, and sometimes knew it. She saw how fragile was her own existence. She knew she lived in constant danger. Any day might see her raped or ill or homeless.

If Rome attacked the population of the city, she was as defenseless as any. The reality of her whole world could come to pieces around her in an emergency. Marian had no way to defend herself.

Marian couldn't know the future. Almost forty years later, Rome would sack the city trying to destroy the Jewish heritage. Marian could not have seen that ninety years later the Romans would exact bloody revenge for the attacks by the hill country fighters. The Romans would pull the temple down on several hundred men, women and children. The Jews thought they would be safe, and had taken refuge there. They thought the Romans would not spill blood in the temple. She could not have known of the coming disaster, but she could feel it coming.

This widow was not without her own strength, however. With the death of Stalyk, Marian had committed herself to finding her strength in one place, in one relationship. She had no other recourse. She craved no other source of strength.

Marian knew she needed to find at least one anchor, one rock that would stand firm. If she did, she might cope with whatever the world might throw at her. She had to have a solid rock, a foundation.

She had found her rock. The Lord, the ancient God of the Hebrew people, was her foundation. The rock who was present in Sinai and in Babylon. The rock who was later at Auschwitz and Flossenberg, and who was there in Gaza and Tel Aviv. This was her rock, her strength.

So for twelve years, Marian had made the trek to the temple for the sake of her Rock. She went to the Sanctuary of Yahweh, the Lord, the god whose name says "I will risk my very existence for you!" She called on the Lord of the ancient ones, asking for little, giving praise for much.

For twelve long years she brought to the House of the Lord everything she had left at the end of the day. She held nothing back.

Sometimes it was a few coin, sometimes it was some small gift. Sometimes it was a handful of flour, or a pair of children’s sandals or other small item. These she placed on a table from which the poor could help themselves. Always it was a gift of everything she could put together from her own meager supplies.

Then Marian would go to a small corner for a long time in prayer. Each day the prayer was much the same as the day before.

"Blessed art thou, O Lord, Ruler of the universe. Because you walk hand in hand with me through this day, I fear no evil. Your presence is a comfort to me. I bring this small bit you might use.

For the sake of all who need your presence, establish on earth your kingdom among all of us. I thank you, Lord, that I might share in your presence with this gift. Amen."

With that gift, Marian became one with the will of God. She became one with the Lord in love. Faithful Marian shared her life with her creator just as the Son of God would be one day share his life with her. She lived to be faithful. She was faithful to live.

Often Marian stayed late, kneeling in the corner. She listened often, intently focusing for the voice from God, sensing the peace of the presence of God.

Then Marian began her walk back home. After the time around the temple, the walk home was much easier. As she walked, she began to plan her work and schedule for later in the day. She had sandals to repair or make, leather to work, meal to grind, clothes to wash. Each day was much the same. Marian always had time to pet a dog, or smile at a child, or talk with a young mother holding a squirming family together. Occasionally Marian visited with a Roman soldier or a local politician who was wearing her handiwork on his feet.

Jesus, watching all this, said only, "Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all the wealthiest of the nations have put in together. They have contributed out of their abundance. This woman, giving out of her poverty, has put in all the living she had. The Lord will reward her."

Jesus knew her heart. He talked then about the problems of this life. He talked about the certainty that all cities are places of destruction and desolation to the poor.

Jesus said "In the midst of all this sorrow, lift up your hearts. When the world seems to come unglued in your very presence, lift up your hearts. It is in the midst of that hurt your redemption comes. It is in the midst of turmoil God will save the people."

"When you see the destruction, you will know the Father is at work among you. The Church will be there, clear to the end of all things. It must live there, building, redeeming, empowering, chastening. It must live."

Somewhere, someplace, the words of Isaiah rang again loud and clear just as Jesus had read them two years and a hundred and fifty miles away.

"The spirit of the Lord is upon me, for the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed. The Lord has called me to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord."

Marian went home late in the evening, but not alone.