Luke 21.1-4

A Beautiful and tragic gift

(Luke 21.1-4)

Jason Procopio

We have been in the gospel of Luke for two years now, and finally we’re nearing the end. Jesus made his triumphal entry into Jerusalem in chapter 19, suffered a series of attacks on his authority as Messiah and King, and condemned the religious leaders for their misinterpretation of the Bible and their hypocrisy in chapter 20.

Chapter 21 contains Luke’s account of what is traditionally called the Olivet Discourse: it is Jesus’s last series of recorded teachings before his arrest and crucifixion, given (according to Matthew and Mark in their accounts of this discourse) on the Mount of Olives, just outside the city, two days before his arrest.

So after condemning the scribes at the end of chapter 20, he leaves the city, goes to the Mount of Olives, and teaches his disciples. 

But of course, he has to get out there. He has to leave the temple, and head outside the city. And as he’s leaving, he sees something, and says something, that serves as a kind of introduction to what he will say once he gets to the Mount of Olives.

This week we began the new format in our community groups, where we study the text we’re going to see on Sunday; so hopefully, most of you already know the text we’re going to talk about. And if you’ve grown up in church, you’ve come with an idea already in mind of what I’m going to say—because this is a very well-known passage, on which many sermons have been preached.

And in your minds, you’re already checking out, thinking, Good grief, another sermon about money. You’ve already put on your armor, so you can kind of half-listen while replaying Avengers: Endgame in your head until I’m done talking.

If that’s you, please don’t do that. Don’t check out on me. Because although some of what you’re thinking is probably right, this is one of those deceptively simple texts that gives us far more than we usually see, if we take the time to look at it the way we should.

So let’s read the text together (it’s only four verses), and then we’ll try to unpack it.

Luke 21.1-4: 

1 Jesus looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the offering box, 2 and he saw a poor widow put in two small copper coins. 3 And he said, “Truly, I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them. 4 For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.” 

The Beauty of the Widow’s Gift

Now, let’s remember the historical context here. We don’t know who the “rich” people are in v. 1, but we know, at the very least that they’re rich. 

The widow, on the other hand, is poor—and it shouldn’t surprise us if we remember what we’ve seen the last couple of weeks. Women at the time had no real rights of their own to speak of. They had rights through their husbands or their sons. So a widow—particularly a widow without sons—would have found herself in a very tight situation. Other male members of her husband’s family—his brothers, for example—could have a legitimate claim to what her husband owned.

And even if that didn’t happen, she couldn’t work. She couldn’t provide for herself. All avenues for financial independence were cut off to her.  It was, sadly, a very common sight to see a widow living in poverty.

So Jesus compares the gifts of these “rich” people, and the gift of this poor widow. 

Now, let’s be clear: Jesus isn’t slamming the rich. They are giving. Thank God for rich people who can give to the work of the ministry! Our church exists because a couple of churches have people who give significantly to missions abroad; their gifts made it possible for our church to be planted. 

We don’t ever want to take the generosity of rich Christians for granted, because that generosity is not a given. How often does Jesus speak of the dangers of money—that the more you have, the more you want, and the tighter you hold on to what you have? That if you let it, money can easily become a counterfeit master in opposition to God? It is not a given that the rich will contribute more than the poor. 

There are some other factors we could talk about, of course—how giving in the temple gave the rich the opportunity to flaunt their wealth and make it look like they were holier than the others. And those things could be true; but Jesus never comments on those things. All we see if the rich giving to the temple, and if those people gave for the right reasons, that is a good thing. 

And yet, Jesus says, this poor widow who gives two copper coins (worth practically nothing) is giving more than all of them. Her gift is worth more than all the others.

And he explains why in v. 4:  

“For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.”

Or to use the language the church has typically used to explain it, they gave out of their extra, and she gave out of her need. The gifts of the rich cost them nothing. They had it left over to give. Or they set aside their tithe (the ten percent the law of Moses required the Jews to give), and they gave their tithe. But that tithe didn’t really hurt them—they had enough to be able to set aside ten percent and have plenty left over.

This woman, on the other hand, gave out of her need. This was all she had, and she gave it all. Which probably meant she’d go without dinner that night.

The question is, why does that change anything? Of course her money isn’t more valuable to the temple she’s giving to. This woman’s gift wouldn’t make a dent in the temple’s budget. So why does Jesus say she’s giving more? Why does the fact that she gave out of her need make her gift more valuable? What is the value in giving when it’s hard, or even risky, to give? 

People say, God was honored by her sacrifice. And that’s surely true. But doesn’t it seem cruel, that God would place more value in a gift simply because it hurt to give it? 

It would be cruel, if God had no other motive. But he does. When he finds value in a sacrificial gift, he’s not thinking of himself, but of us.

To put it very simply, giving out of your need allows you to prove your faith to yourself. The benefit of that gift wasn’t for the temple; it was for her. Giving out of her need would, at the very least, allow her to put her faith into practice in a way which she felt acutely, even if no one else did.

Biblical faith is a lot more than simple intellectual assent to a set of doctrines. If someone looks at Christianity, and admires the ethics of Christianity and the teachings of Jesus, and decides to become a Christian because of that, that’s not faith. If your parents are Christians, and your grandparents are Christians, and you decide to just keep going with that and become a Christian by default, that’s not faith.

I’ll take it a step further. Imagine you take a class on Christian doctrine, and you hear everything that we believe, and you agree that those things seem right to you, that you believe these things too. That, in and of itself, is not necessarily faith. It might be, but it might not.

Faith isn’t something we do, it’s something God does in us. He changes our hearts and our minds to accept the gospel as truth, and not reject it as folly. But the faith the Holy Spirit produces in us will always come out in specific ways.

Michael Bird, in his book on the Apostle’s Creed (titled simply, What Christians Ought to Believe) rightly pointed out three markers of biblical faith.

First of all, faith is belief as fact. We read the stories in the Bible, and we believe that these things actually happened. They are historical truths. These events took place as the Bible says they took place.

Secondly, faith is belief as trust. We hear what the biblical authors have spoken about God, and about Jesus Christ, and about God’s will for this world, and we trust that they are telling the truth. We trust that when they say, “God is like this, and salvation works this way, and this is God’s will for the world he created,” they’re right.

Thirdly (and this is where it really hits home for us), faith is belief as allegiance. We believe these things are true, and we are willing to change the way we live in this world in service to these beliefs. 

I heard a story this week. There was a daredevil who used to walk over Niagara Falls on a tightrope, on top of a barrel. And he did it effortlessly. Crowds cheered him as he walked across the line on top of that barrel, and made it to the other side, and he shouted at them, “Who thinks I can do it again?” They all cheered: “We do!” So he did it again. When he got to the other side, he yelled, “Who believes I could do it again, with somebody in the barrel?” They all cheered: “We believe! We believe!”

So he said, “Okay—who’s getting in?” (Of course, no one did.)

That’s what biblical faith looks like: trusting in something so much that you’re willing to place your life on the line for that belief.

Think of Hebrews 11, where the author gives us examples of faith in the Old Testament. 

Faith drives Abraham to tell his wife, “Pack your things, we’re moving.” “Where?” “No idea. God will let us know.” 

Faith drives Noah to build a boat in the desert, although he has never seen the ocean. 

Men and women who have true, biblical faith, born of the Holy Spirit, believe the Word of God is true, and are willing to make concrete, down-to-earth changes in their lives, in service to those beliefs, even if those decisions seem crazy from a human point of view.

And if we re-read the gospel, we see that Jesus has been bringing us closer to this true faith throughout all of his ministry. He’s not just trying to get Christians to give more. He’s inviting us into a completely different way of seeing the world—as a world in which God is playing the role of the benevolent host to his people in the world he created, and gives them not just everything they need, but everything they have.

Remember what he said earlier in the gospel, in Luke 12.22-29: 

22 And he said to his disciples, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will put on. 23 For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. 24 Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds!… 

29 And do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be worried. 30 For all the nations of the world seek after these things, and your Father knows that you need them. 31 Instead, seek his kingdom, and these things will be added to you. 

When we see the world this way—as a world which belongs, totally and completely, to the God who created it, and in which we live as his children… When we know that we are his, and that he provides for those who are his… We are free to seek his kingdom. 

At that point, giving out of need doesn’t seem foolish; it seems right. Because we know that this little we have belongs to God, and he will take care of us. So because we know that, we want to seek his kingdom first, and trust he’ll give us whatever we need.

That’s what happening here.

Let’s be clear: I’m not advocating foolish giving, and I don’t believe Jesus is either. Trust in God and reckless foolishness with our finances are not the same thing.

Jesus is saying that when we give, we should feel it. It should squeeze us a little. It should require us to think through our expenses, and more than likely, to cut some things from our budget. 

Because reordering our priorities in such a way reminds us how God’s world works—that no matter how it may seem, we don’t take care of ourselves, but God takes care of us. It teaches us to be content with what he provides for us, rather than endlessly seeking after a million things we want, but which aren’t actually good for us. It reminds us that God’s mission in this world is far bigger than our own personal comfort, and that participating in this mission, on this most practical of levels, is a gift he’s given us.

Now, everything I’ve just said should come as no surprise if you’ve grown up in a church that faithfully preaches the Bible. There is no mistaking the fact that Jesus commends the widow here, and invites us to be see her and aspire to be like her. Throughout the history of the church, that is the way this text has been interpreted, and it’s not wrong.

But we really need to see that that is not the only thing going on here. On the one hand, we have the beauty of the widow’s gift, because she gave out of her need; but there is an element of tragedy in her gift as well. And it’s this element of tragedy that we so often miss.

The Tragedy of the Widow’s Gift

And we miss it because, oddly, when we read this short passage we forget the first rule of hermeneutics (Bible interpretation): never read a text outside of its context. And the context of this passage significantly changes the way we see it. It doesn’t make the classic interpretation—which we’ve just seen—wrong. It’s absolutely right. It’s just not all.

What did we just see, in our text last week? You remember, Jesus was responding to these challenges from the religious authorities. He proved that their understanding of the Bible was faulty, and then he gave the people visible proof that the authorities’ interpretation was wrong. 

Luke 20.45-47:  

45 And in the hearing of all the people he said to his disciples, 46 “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and love greetings in the marketplaces and the best seats in the synagogues and the places of honor at feasts, 47 who devour widows’ houses and for a pretense make long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.” 

These religious authorities were the ones who claimed to know the Word of God better than anyone, who interpreted the Bible for others. These were the guys who ran the temple. And Jesus says, “Their authority is misplaced and misused. They are arrogant, they are greedy, they are hypocritical. They exploit the poorest of the poor, those they are called to protect."

In the verses immediately following our passage, we see this (Luke 21.5-6): 

5 And while some were speaking of the temple, how it was adorned with noble stones and offerings, he said, 6 “As for these things that you see, the days will come when there will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down.” 

In other words, you have seen the corruption of the religious institution in Israel. The authorities have misunderstood the Word of God, and you can see their misunderstanding in their pride, their greed, and their hypocrisy. And because of their corruption, in a short time, the religious system they love is going to come crumbling down. The temple will be destroyed, and nothing will be left. (Which is exactly what happened, in A.D. 70.)

In the middle of all that, we have our poor widow—the type of person whose houses the scribes devoured, the type of person who was exploited by the authorities who were called to protect them—giving her two cents.

Do you see what’s going on here? 

On the one hand, we have the beauty of this woman’s love for God and faith in him, which prompts her to give to God out of her need.

But on the other hand, we have the tragedy of a religious system which has convinced this poor woman she is giving to something worthwhile, when it is actually a wicked system which will soon come crumbling down.

When you see the larger context of this passage, it’s hard not to think of modern prosperity preachers—those men and women who will say, “Give ten dollars to our ministry, and God will return it to you a hundredfold!” Unfortunately, all too often, the people who are misled by this kind of message are poor, because they’re offering them the one thing they feel they need. These people abuse and exploit the poor, promising things they have no control over in the name of a God they misrepresent, so that they can buy a private jet. It’s despicable, and there are churches even here in Paris which preach this kind of lie.

But as horrible as it is, that is not the only thing happening in Jerusalem at this point in time. The problems in the religious system Jesus condemns were more widespread than the simple exploitation of the poor. The religious leaders had a fundamental misunderstanding of the Scriptures, as we saw last week, and as a result, they were unholy leaders.

This is where this subject gets sticky for us, isn’t it? 

We’ll think things like, “I’m fine giving to the poor, or to an organization or a cause which has proven its trustworthiness. But giving to a church... That’s scary, because we know churches. We’ve seen examples of horrible churches doing horrible things. I’d rather not contribute to that.”

The surprising thing is that in this text, Jesus is saying, “You’re right.” The horror of hypocrisy and abuse in a corrupt religious system is underlying every good thing he says about the widow. That’s what happens, as Mark Sayers says, when you try to have the kingdom without the King—when you try to have the good things of the kingdom while neglecting the Giver of all good things.

So when Jesus sees this poor woman giving all she has to the temple, it is bittersweet. Her faith is admirable, and is put into practice in her sacrificial giving. But at the same time, it is tragic, because when she wished to express her faith in this way, as the Law of Moses commanded her to, the only temple available to her was a temple which was corrupt and destined for destruction in a very short time.

And my guess is that the disciples remembered this. 

After Jesus’s death and resurrection and ascension, the apostles were tasked with building the church of Jesus Christ. The gospel is spreading, more and more people are coming to faith in Christ, and the church is exploding in and around Jerusalem. 

In Acts chapter 6, we find the twelve apostles in charge of the daily affairs of the church, and it grows to be too much for them. So they appoint deacons—men of good repute, full of the Spirit and of wisdom (Acts 6.3)—to help carry the load.

Do you remember what their job was—the very first responsibility of the very first deacons?

Distributing food to widows (Acts 6.1). 

Food was regularly collected for the poor, and the Greek Christians complain to the apostles that their widows are being neglected. So seven deacons are appointed to make sure that the widows receive help from the church.

Now this is conjecture on my part (you won’t find this in the Bible), but I think it’s fairly well-founded conjecture: my guess is that when the Greek Christians came to the apostles with their complaint, the apostles remembered this moment in Luke 21. They remembered Jesus condemning the religious leaders for their misrepresentation of Scripture and their sin (which included exploiting poor widows), and they remembered this poor widow who, in good faith, had no other choice than to give her gift of faith to a corrupt temple and corrupt leaders.

And they decided, We’re not going to build another temple like that. 

Generous and Holy

And that is what Luke, by the Holy Spirit, is trying to help us see in this text, in reminding us of the widow’s story as he does, in this particular context. 

He is showing us what kind of church we are called to be. As someone said in our community group this week, we’re not “a little bit” God’s—we don’t have a part of us that belongs to him, and parts that belong to other things. We’re all his, or we’re not his at all.

And so, in light of the fact that we belong to him, and he provides for us, God shows us in this text that he calls his people to be generous, and he calls his people to be holy.

The simple and sad fact is that today, the average Christian’s spirituality is more formed by consumerism than by Christ. The world has taught us how things work, and we have unwittingly bought into it: work, in order to make money, in order to buy the stuff you want, in order to be fulfilled. That’s how our world works; that’s how we’ve been taught to think.

And so when we come to God, we have the same reflexes; we do the same things. We work—we check all the right boxes—in order to get into God’s good graces and make sure he keeps liking us, so that he’ll give us the things we ask him for, so that we can be fulfilled. That’s nothing but the same consumerist garbage, dressed up in spirituality.

But Jesus takes that entire way of thinking and flips it on its head. He commands us to think in a completely different way than the world thinks. 

Rather than working to make money to get what we want to be happy, Jesus says: Work, because you were created in the image of a God who works for the good of his creation. 

Make money, but hold it in an open hand, knowing that it came from your benevolent Creator, and that he—and not your money—gives you what you need to live.

Let him teach us what we want, and find those desires satisfied in him.

That’s the way we need to think. That’s the kind of people we need to be, and the kind of church we need to be, if we are to both live the beauty of the widow’s gift, and avoid the tragedy of the widow’s gift. 

We need to be a generous people, and a holy people—a generous church, and a holy church.

A generous church, filled with sacrificial givers, who are willing to put everything on the line to see God’s glory put on display in this city. 

We believe that the God who calls us created all things, and gave us all things. We believe that everything we own belongs to him. We believe in the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich (2 Corinthians 8.9). We believe that he lived, died and was raised in our place, to take our sin, that we might be reconciled to God—that he gave everything, becoming our sin, that he might share his infinite and eternal riches with us.

So in response to his grace, God calls us to be a generous church, filled with generous people, in the image of our generous Savior. He calls us to give more than we think we have, in order to rest in his perfect provision for us, and to see his glory displayed in our city, through our sacrificial love for him and for others, as the family of God.

And God calls us to be a holy church, founded on and rooted in the gospel of Jesus Christ, so that the giving we receive is not squandered, but put to good use for his glory.

The early church, the first apostles, could easily have fallen into the same habits and corruption as the religious authorities. The church was exploding, Christians were giving not just their tithe, but everything they owned… Suddenly these guys had mountains of resources at their disposal. How did they avoid falling into the same traps as the authorities Jesus criticized? 

They avoided it because of what happened in Acts chapter 2. Jesus sent his Spirit to fill his people, in order to reign over the church as her King; and the church, in response, pursued conformity to their King Jesus, in the light of the good news of the gospel. Every single time there has been corruption in the church, it has been because that church tried to build the kingdom without the King: because they tried to have the good of the kingdom without submitting to the King who gives all good things.

So we are called to learn from their mistakes. 

To radically pursue our Savior. To know the Bible in our bones, so that we can discern how God would have us work for his glory in our city, through the right proclamation of the gospel. To help one another see more clearly and understand more deeply what God has revealed to us in the Bible, and to help one another grow more and more like Christ in the light of what we see.

No church is perfect. But now, because the Spirit lives in us and Christ reigns through his Spirit, we can be faithful. 

And if we are faithful, then what we do as a body of believers, founded on the Word of God, will make ripples that will extend out through all eternity. We will work for something which will last forever, and which will bring glory to our God. We will work towards building the kingdom of God, in submission to our generous King.

That means every sacrifice, every gift—of time, of energy, of resources, of finances—will be worthwhile. 

So to those who give, Jesus says, “Give generously, out of your need, because you know the generosity of your Savior, and you know that the children of God want for nothing.” 

And to the church which receives the gift, he says, “Be a church worth giving to. Be a holy church, founded on the gospel, and by my Spirit, do my will with what you receive.”