Luke is an excellent storyteller. He wastes no words, every word conveys a layer of information. In this story, we must look carefully at what is unfolding. Aside from the miracle which takes place, Luke seems to challenge the rules of belongingness. Consider Today’s Holy Nougat
Acts 3:2 CEVDCI
[2] A man who had been born lame was being carried to the temple door. Each day he was placed beside this door, known as the Beautiful Gate. He sat there and begged from the people who were going in.
Beside the Temple Door
He was a regular.
Everyone knew him. They might not have troubled themselves to know his actual name, though some would have created their own names for him. Each day, just like clockwork, he turned up, as if for work. He sat on the outside, beside one of the temple doors and begged. The door was called Beautiful, made of highly polished Corinthian bronze, which gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. This ornate gate separated the outer Court of the Gentiles from the sacred inner Court of Women. Despite his strategic location, and though giving alms was culturally correct, neither he nor his situation seemed to convey beauty.
It would have been a high-density area, perfect for begging. If their society operated as ours does, he would be invisible to many. To others, he was part of the fabric of temple life, an opportunity to demonstrate the capacity to give.
Self-Check
Do we ‘see’ those who live on the margins of our society? Are we able to acknowledge them as someone’s child, rather than a public nuisance?
Deeper Dive
His presence on the outside invites at least one question. Did the lame man have access to the Temple? At first glance, we assume not, since the purity laws were very restrictive. But people with disabilities served as priests. They were prohibited from ministering at the altar, but there was room for them. So unless he had leprosy, as a Jew, he should have had access.
Yet he was always on the outskirts, taken daily to the temple – at its busiest moment – for the sole purpose of begging. You see, giving alms, Tzedakah, was treated as an act of righteousness. He was not scorned, but few saw beyond his disability. Those who brought him there daily probably relied on his contributions to the household income. Those who dropped alms didn’t necessarily see the person behind the beggar.
I’m struck by the fact that he was placed next to the entrance to the house of God, but no one thought to help him inside. Is it that he wasn’t a Jew, so access was denied? Did those who took him to beg continue into the temple or did they wait around somewhere near? Had he lost hope in his potential for healing?
Siblings, there seem to be more questions than answers. If we find that we would have been quite comfortable passing him outside the temple than receiving him within, we need to check ourselves. Luke perhaps desired that we question the rules of access and relationship in God’s empire. For in Y’shua’s upside-down world, there is room for all who desire Him at the table.
Point to Ponder
Who are the people sitting beside our temple gates? Do we see them? How shall we welcome them in our spaces of worship?
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May all we seek be found in Christ
