Luke 18:1-8 "Never Give Up"

         A little boy knelt down at the edge of his bed and began to say his nighttime prayers. His parents were just outside his door and so could hear him.  How surprised they were when he began reciting the alphabet in very reverent tones!

         When asked what he was doing, the child replied, "I am saying my prayers, but I could not think of the exact words tonight. So, I am just saying all the letters. God knows what I need, and God will put all the words together for me."

         What a lovely scene that is, and what a perfect way to begin preaching about this parable of the nagging widow and the unjust judge.  I mean, this parable is about the benefits of nagging, right?  It is about being persistent in prayer and, when we are persistent, about God’s eventual compassion and responsiveness.  After all, that is what Jesus says the story is about, right? 

         Well, actually, no.  It is what the Gospel writer Luke – and not Jesus at all - says the parable is about in the opening verse.  And perhaps that should be a bit of a red flag for us – a tiny warning not to be too complacent when we reflect upon this tale. 

         Now, let me say right off the bat that I have nothing against prayer – and I have nothing against being persistent in one’s prayer life.  Prayer is a very important part of our spiritual lives and our Christian formation.  It is just that I wonder if persistent prayer is the deepest meaning of this story of the widow and the judge.

         After all, we know from reading other parables that their point is never the obvious meaning we find at first glance.  We know these tiny tales do not tell us what life is like, but rather they tell us what life should be like – what life in the Kingdom of God is like.  As the author of the blog, Magdalene’s Musings, wrote, in the parables he told, Jesus did not “give his listeners clear, unambiguous answers. Mostly, he gave them questions.”

         So, before we come to any quick conclusions about why Jesus told this parable, let’s take a closer look at the characters in the story and what questions Jesus might be raising through their interaction.  

         First, there was this judge. His job was to adjudicate disputes fairly and equitably while maintaining a certain harmony in day-to-day affairs.  And because he was a Jewish judge, he had a responsibility demanded of him by the Torah, that is, the Jewish Law, to particularly protect the rights of the poor – you know, the widows, the orphans, the beggars, the ones who were chewed up and spat out by the rest of society.

         The second person in this story was this widow, the quintessential symbol of all a compassionate judge was called to attend to.  There was this widow whom every God-fearing judge was obliged to care for. 

         She came before our judge to plead for her rights.  She entered the court system to beg for justice.  And therein lies the crux of the problem, the singular issue of the parable.

         You see, Jesus tells us that the judge was not compassionate.  Moreover, he did not respect anyone other than himself.  And not only that; he was not God-fearing.  In short, this judge was not particularly interested in justice.  He had more glorious things on his mind – like the Brooks Brothers suit he was having tailored, like the temple hotshots he needed to impress.  And so he ignored the widow and instead busied himself with his more important concerns. 

         However, unfortunately for the judge, the widow would not take no for an answer.  She kept coming back to the courthouse, day after day.  In fact, the judge had listened to her arguments so many times that he could have repeated them back to her verbatim.  She stuck to him like glue, and her droning voice buzzed in his ears – nag, nag, nag. 

         As Presbyterian pastor Robert Dunham writes, “She keeps coming back to him day after day, resolutely pressing her case, until finally the judge has a conversation with himself….(and) figures that if he doesn't grant the widow's petition, she will wear him out and may even give him a black eye - either figuratively or literally. So, eventually, despite his callousness and his lack of integrity, he gives the woman what she wants.”

         And that is the end of the parable – except that the Gospel writer wraps it all up by sharing Jesus’ heartfelt confession about the character of God:  “Do you hear what that judge, corrupt as he is, is saying? So what makes you think God won’t step in and work justice for his chosen people, who continue to cry out for help? Won’t he stick up for them? I assure you, he will. He will not drag his feet.” 

         And then the Gospel writer concludes with Jesus’ haunting question:  “But how much of that kind of persistent faith will the Son of Man find on the earth when he returns?”

         Now, if we take the writer’s opening comment about the meaning of this story as “gospel truth” (no pun intended) – that the story is first and foremost about being persistent in our prayer lives – about nagging God as the widow nagged the judge until she got what she wanted - then I say that we have a dilemma.  

         You see, I do not know about you, but I have a real problem with the idea that if you want something from God, all you need to do is pray.  And if you do not get results, then just pray harder.  Still nothing?  Well, you must not be praying hard enough.  Keep trying, and God will answer your prayer.  Keep trying because eventually God will get tired of it all.  Keep trying because in the end God will give up and give you what you want, if only to get you out of God’s hair. 

         I have a real problem with a God who finds humanity basically annoying and, as Baptist pastor Amy Butler noted, is “an easily manipulated puppet who, if (approached) in the right way, will give us whatever we want.” 

         I mean, what does that say about the father of two young children who prays for his cancer to be cured but dies anyway.  Did he not pray hard enough or a sufficient number of times?  And what does that say about the woman who prays for her husband to be faithful but he continues to have affair after affair anyway? Did she not pray long enough, or were the words not quite what God had in mind?

         It makes no sense to me that a God who fashioned humanity and since the beginning of time has worked through men and women – prophets and apostles – to articulate the sacred promises, that the passion and dream of this God for the world is embodied in a man, Jesus of Nazareth, it makes no sense to me that such a God would divest you and me of any responsibility for ourselves or our earth and instead would be this interventionist, manipulative, mercurial Holy Presence.

         However, when we interpret the parable in this traditional way, we are presuming that God is like the judge, and we are like the widow.  However, I do not know about you, but my God is not like an unjust judge – and I really do not think Jesus would ever have described God in such negative terms.  That being said, I think we need to make a paradigm shift.  We need to look at this story through a different lens.

         So – try this on for size.  What if we – you and I - were not like the widow but were rather like the unjust judge? Oh, I know that notion is terribly unflattering because none of us wants to be characterized as not respecting humanity and not being God-fearing.  But what if this parable was less about being persistent in prayer and more about yearning for change – not God changing but us changing? 

         What if this parable is about us being like the judge who ignored the widow? What if it is about our disinclination to hear the cries of the poor, the oppressed, the ones who barely survive on the edges of our society?  What if this parable is about our shutting out the screams and whispers for mercy and compassion from our local community, our state, our nation, our world? 

         What if this parable is about why we think a panhandler is always going to use any money we might give for alcohol and cigarettes?  What if this parable asks us to wrestle with the question about why we presume that a phone call from someone claiming to be in need is most likely a scam? 

         What if we are like the unjust judge, and we are too self-involved to hear all the widows in all their modern guises who plead their cases for economic and social justice?  As Episcopal priest Steve Griffiths speculates, “Perhaps we are the judge and we need to hear the persistent cry of the poor in our midst. Perhaps this parable is about the cry of the poor coming to our ears and it is us who need to grant justice.”

         And if we are like the unjust judge, could it be that it is God who is like the widow?  Could it be that it is God, surrounded by the impoverished, the homeless, the abused, flanked by the hungry children with their empty bowls and the refugees with only the clothes on their backs, who is approaching us on their behalf?

         Could it be that it is God who is like the widow – crying out to be heard, begging us to mete out justice because we have the power and the resources to do just so?  As Steve Griffith goes on to say, the cries of the poor were “always Jesus’ starting point in ministry, and it needs to be ours too. Securing justice and relief for the hurting must always be our top priority as those who seek to reflect the love of God in society. We need to hear the cry of the poor and vulnerable.”

         Now if all this seems dark and negative to you, remember as well that if the widow represents God in this parable, then, like the widow, God has not and will not give up on us. Though we may be more concerned with the square footage of our homes rather than the man who has no home, though we may be more concerned about what we will serve for dinner than the child who will have no dinner, God still holds out hope that, with enough sacred nagging, we will indeed be the ones to usher in the Kingdom. 

         Someday, God believes, we will finally come around to doing something about the persistent cries and whispers of the poor.  You see, God still believes in us and in our potential as sacred sons and daughters.  We have it in us to become like little widows – pestering for justice, praying for justice, demanding justice. 

         And, what is more, I think God believes that the church, that Christian communities like ours, can become gathering places and focal points for that pestering, that praying, that demanding for justice that lies at the very heart of God’s dream and passion for this world.

         We – here in our little church – have the God-given power to shift the paradigm, to look at the world through a new lens, to become more like the demanding widow than the unfeeling judge. 

         However, it is up to you – each one of you – to decide if you will support this church as it seeks to look at the world through a new lens.  It is up to you – each one of you – to figure out to what extent you will help this church as it unleashes that power to shift the paradigm.  It is up to you – each one of you – to determine whether you trust that our ministries really can make the Gospel relevant in the very difficult complex times in which we live.

         Jesus has challenged us not only as individuals, but he has challenged the very nature of who we are as the church in this parable. Of course, Jesus is always challenging us.  It is never easy to be the church.  It never will be easy. 

         But then again, Jesus did say, “Lo, I will be with you always.”  Perhaps that statement alone should be enough for us to take heart – to throw off our judge’s robes, climb down from the bench, and muck it up with the hungry and the homeless, the halt and the lame. 

         Because, if we do, then when the haunting question is finally posed - “How much of that kind of persistent faith will the Son of Man find on the earth when he returns – and, I would add, where will he find such faith?” – the answer could be - here, right here – because, when it came to the Gospel message, we – you and I in this little church - never, never gave up.  

by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church UCC, Raymond, Maine