Jesus talks about money more than anything else except the reign of God.  So say the church stewardship experts. Their speculation is that healthy attitudes toward money (the way we handle it, spend it, earn it etc) are part of a healthy spiritual life.

Now, I am always a little nervous about such statements – especially when they are paired with this morning’s Gospel lesson. Because in this reading, it seems to me Jesus is drawing attention to something else.

The widow’s offering – when compared to the others – makes for an interesting moral tale. But the bigger question (for me) is this: why does that woman have so little in a place where others clearly have an abundance.

Jesus’ lesson this morning comes in two parts, and we are – by virtue of our own privilege – in danger of missing the most important piece of the puzzle. We tend to put all the value in the sacrificial giving of this one, destitute soul. She has emptied her purse for the glory of God. Admirable, I suppose. But let’s think about why it was necessary.

Our reading began with a quick and pointed denunciation of the ‘scribes’ “…who like to walk around in long robes and be greeted with respect in the marketplaces…” this may be social commentary – an assessment of the corruption of the day. But it is also a parable.

These same well-dressed, attention-seeking people “…devour widows houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers.” They are outwardly devout – while lining their own pockets and assuring their own legacy. And we are overwhelmed with modern examples of the people whom Jesus said, ‘will receive greater condemnation.’

That hasn’t stopped us from making heroes of them.

Influencers. Politicians. Entertainers. Billionaire entrepreneurs. They demand (and receive) our attention, and our adoration. We would imagine that our own time in the spotlight is just one lucky break away, but in the meantime, we will buy their products and put them in office and hope/pray that they will fix the problems that generate misery for us and profit for them.

This is the context for Jesus’ lesson about giving. The little things matter. The resilience of this woman, who has been the victim of the successful rich, is what is on display. There is a grim hope in her – but it is hope, nonetheless. There is also a challenge for us.

If this Jesus story becomes only a vehicle for convincing people to ‘give till it hurts,’ then we are doomed. This is yet another denunciation of a human system that creates both incredible wealth AND unbearable poverty.

The ones who contribute out of their abundance must be challenged rather than honoured. Their gifts, while not insignificant, are only possible because of a system that creates poverty. The ‘powerful’ hold their power at the expense of their opponents. There is no room for compromise once you have experienced life in the fast lane – the view from the top. The widow does the compromising – the poor pay the real price – the outsider, the ordinary people all foot the bill for the fortunate few.

“…the poor widow has put in more…” than the others, Jesus says. She has committed herself to what seems a losing battle. But her seemingly insignificant act shines as a lesson for any who would work for a (so called) better world.

She hasn’t promised to ‘fix the system.’ She does not demand attention – but we cannot avoid noticing her plight. It’s the little things that change hearts and minds. It’s not the triumphant success of yet another rich, entitled mouthpiece that gets the job done. It will be the quiet, determined efforts of those who have nothing to lose because they have nothing left.

The gospel is Good News only when it is seen in this light. Jesus’ words, and the words of those who formed communities around Jesus’ memory are offered that we might see the world in a different way. It is Good News to read that those who seem great are really just an illusion – ‘sound and fury signifying nothing’ –  while those who ‘have nothing’ (by the world’s standards) exhibit the kind of resilience that can change the world.

One small act of love and grace at a time. One moment of brutal honesty. One gesture that exposes the flaws in an economic system – or religious ideology – or a cultural addiction to success at any cost. These are the little things.

Jesus’ life, death and resurrection was – in the context of Roman Imperial domination – a little thing. One critical voice silenced. One compassionate teacher removed from the equation. But those little things add up, don’t they. Those stories become the motivation for further compassionate criticism. The pattern is there – the choice is ours: succumb to the lure of the next big thing, or continue in a ministry of little things, offered in love and faith – for God’s glory, in Jesus’ name.  May it soon be so.