Obviously, the reader of Mark’s gospel is meant to see the widow’s sacrifice against the background of the reign of God proclaimed by Jesus. The reign of God—that means that God turns to human beings totally and without any reservation in order to bring divine abundance to the world. This self-gift of God is a historical event: it is happening now, in Israel and in the new community life Jesus is creating. Therefore the reign of God attracts those who are able to experience God’s overflowing self-gift, so that they in turn give everything they have: their whole heart, their whole existence. The poor widow who gave her two copper coins becomes a sign, a symbol of this “totality.”
Mark has deliberately located this scene with the widow before the eschatological discourse (Mark 13) and the beginning of the passion account (Mark 14:1). The widow’s gift already reflects for him the “wholeness” of Jesus’ gift of his life. But the widow’s deed also illustrates for him the scriptural saying Jesus had quoted shortly before: “you shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength” (Mark 12:30). The widow gave everything she had. She loved God with her entire “wealth.”
Of course, objections immediately arise: what will the woman have to eat the next day if she has given everything away? Is this not a horrid God who demands such a “totality”?—a God who devours people totally?—a God who demands human sacrifice?—a God who even robs the poor of their last dollar and does not begrudge the lucky their good fortune?
Precisely at this point it is evident that the story of the widow’s offering, like all the stories in the Bible, positively forces on us the question of the “place” of the reign of God. It is not a nebulous thing that lies in the future or is deeply hidden in the human soul. Rather, it demands a concrete “space,” and that space has social dimensions (see chap. 3 above). The reign of God develops its power where people live the new common life established by God and endow that common life with everything they have. Then the poor widow is no longer alone. Then there are many who offer her protection, who share their meals with her, who comfort her in her suffering. In this common life given by God, moreover, people are not totally devoured and deprived of their freedom but instead find their freedom, good fortune, and happiness precisely there.
We might, for once, simply surrender ourselves to the little story of the widow and her offering. Apart from all historical questions, there appears in it something of what Jesus was. The “wholeness” he perceives with such admiration in the poor widow was something he himself lived. He lived it even unto death. To that extent it is no accident that Mark tells this episode shortly before Jesus’ passion. As Jesus’ complete clarity of focus runs through all his words, it also saturates everything he did. Jesus was a radical in his actions as in his words. That must have begun very early.
The Father’s Will
Luke 2:41-52 tells how the twelve-year-old Jesus went missing from his parents in the capital city. They were already on their way home from the festival, thinking he was in another one of the groups of travelers. When they discovered their mistake, they hurried back to Jerusalem and sought him there. After three days they found him in the temple. According to the story, the young Jesus must have been driven by a deep longing to remain in the place where God was praised, to be in the place where everything was about God. To his mother’s reproach that she and his father had sought him anxiously, he answers with surprise: “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in [what belongs to my Father]?” (Luke 2:49). Let me say again that we must not approach narratives of this sort with the kind of blunt historical probing that accomplishes nothing but to raise all kinds of questions about whether it could have happened that way or not. Stories like Luke 2:41-52 are nourished by larger contexts and times. Behind them is the experience of concrete dealing with Jesus during his public life.
Luke 2:41-52 distills what became fully obvious twenty years later when Jesus appeared in public: he had left his parents behind. He had left his family. The conflict depicted in Mark 3 between him and his family had already happened (cf. chap. 8 above). It was not a mild disagreement. Jesus separated himself from his own family and gathered a group of disciples around him, people who had left their families as he had.