And Still, She Gives: Mark 12:41-44

A poor widow stands in the temple, clutching two small coins in her hand. The coins amount to only a quarter of a day’s wage, and though they are all she has, she still intends to give them as her offering. She may feel exposed—perhaps even small—surrounded by others with far greater wealth to give. Yet when the path clears, she quietly steps forward and drops those two small coins into the offering box—everything she has left, not even enough to meet a single day’s need.

The funds collected by the temple were allocated for various purposes—including charitable endeavors—so the duty to give was not taken lightly by the Jewish people. But was it really necessary for this poor widow to give all she had left?

If a person without a home entered a church and placed $15 in the offering plate, maybe we’d feel uncomfortable and think to ourselves, “Maybe he should keep that…”

If a single mother scraping by on minimum wage gave her last $10 as a donation for disaster relief, we might hesitate and think, “Maybe she should use that for gas… or diapers.”

If a teenager gave up his lunch money to help a classmate pay for a field trip, we might think, “Maybe he should keep that—he needs to eat too.”

If a widowed grandmother spent her last savings to fly across the country to care for her needy daughter, we might say, “But who’s going to take care of her?”

So, as this poor widow in the temple begins walking away from the offering box, do any of the others standing nearby wonder why she gave away what little she had left? Do any of them say to themselves, “Maybe she should’ve kept that…”?

As she walks away, do any of them wonder where she’s going or what she’s going to eat for her next meal?

Are they concerned for her?

Do any of them ask why she only had two small coins in the first place?

Are any of them outraged that she had to survive on less than a day’s wage?

The Law of Moses is clear regarding the care of widows: they were to be provided for—not left impoverished and helpless (Exodus 22:22, Deuteronomy 10:18; 14:28). The prophets—Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Zechariah—all strongly echoed this demand, condemning those who neglected their duty to care for widows (Isaiah 1:17, Jeremiah 7:6, Ezekiel 22:7, Zechariah 7:10).

This widow is impoverished, helpless, and neglected.

So why aren’t those standing nearby outraged at the injustice?

Why aren’t they trembling at their prophets’ condemnation?

And perhaps most puzzling of all is why Jesus isn’t outraged—especially when you consider the remarks He just made before noticing the widow’s offering.

Moments earlier, Jesus condemned the scribes—members of the temple establishment—with a prophet’s zeal, accusing them of ‘devouring widows’ houses’ (Mark 12:40).

We don’t know exactly how they did it, but we do know this: they were exploiting widows.

They were charged with providing for widows—but instead, they were taking from them.

So you might expect Jesus, seeing this widow approach the offering box, to stop her and say, “Keep those coins. Keep something for yourself.”

You might imagine Him calling over the wealthy people nearby and rebuking them for neglecting their responsibility—reminding them of the prophets’ stern warnings.

You might expect Him to summon the scribes He just condemned, point to the widow, and say, “Look at what your injustice has done.”

You might even think He would reach into His own pocket and offer her some assistance.

But He doesn’t.

Instead… He praises her offering.

He lifts it up as a model of sacrificial giving, declaring that she “gave all she had to live on.”

Yet some might ask, “How can He do that? Is He complicit in the injustice by praising her giving and not condemning the perpetrators?”

She still walks away with nothing. She still departs uncertain of where she might go or find her next meal. She remains a victim of exploitation—a tragic example of injustice and a violation of God’s law.

But Jesus’ praise is not meant to dismiss the injustice or excuse the failure of those around her.

Rather, He praises her giving to lift up her steadfastness—her resolve—as something holy and worthy of imitation.

She kept giving what she had, even though others weren’t giving to her.

She kept fulfilling her duty to the temple, even though the temple wasn’t fulfilling its duty to her.

She kept doing what was right, even when so much wrong had been done to her.

She could have thrown up her hands and declared,

“No way will I keep giving if I get nothing back.

No way will I fulfill my duty when they in the temple don’t fulfill theirs.

Why should I do the right thing when no one else does right by me?”