Sermon for the Season after Pentecost – Proper 24

Readings
Genesis 32:22-31
Psalm 121
2 Timothy 3:14-4:5
Luke 18:1-8

Because of how this Gospel passage opens we might be tempted to assume we know what this parable is all about. It says it very clearly “Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart.” That makes it clear, doesn’t it? If we trust that sentence alone, then it seems that we are to take away that if we are persistent in our prayer then God, who is better than the judge, will grant us our prayers. And, that if it takes awhile we shouldn’t give up. That’s what this passage is all about, right? I know I’ve heard plenty of sermons that approached it in that way. So how else are we to interpret the parable we hear today?

The problem, friends, is that while we start with a commendation to pray always, the bulk of the story is, in fact, about justice and the importance to not lose hope and not give up in the face of injustice. If we stop and think about the content of Jesus’ parable then we might well suspect that perhaps a later scribe added that first sentence as a way of interpreting the story. Why? Because, when we focus on the story alone and Jesus’ interpretation of it, we are invited into a very different sensibility than what the first sentence would have us believe.

This very short parable starts by saying there is a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for the people. And, there is a widow who is seeking justice against someone who has wronged her. We are told nothing else about the conflict, but simply that she wants justice against her opponent. The widow apparently would not stop bothering the judge. So finally the judge, complaining to himself about her nagging, grants her justice just to get her to shut up and leave him alone. Jesus then commends people to remember that God will grant justice to those who cry day and night. And that God, unlike the judge, will not delay in helping them. And the passage closes with Jesus asking if the son of Man will find faith when he comes.

More than about prayer, this ultimately is a story about our relationship to God and our relationship to our fellow human beings. In this passage Jesus is calling us to recognize the inherent nature of how God works in the world and what it means to be a person of faith.

This is a story about a widow. Widows were on the margins of society. If they didn’t have an adult male family member to represent them they had no legal standing. As a rule widows could not own property, could not work, and had to rely on the generosity of relatives to survive. They were on the lowest strata of society. In short they were, as a rule, powerless and dispossessed.

Judges however, much like today, were powerful and privileged people within Jewish society. They often were wealthy and commanded the respect of their peers. Unlike widows they were on the higher, or even highest, strata of society.

So in today’s story we don’t just have someone seeking justice from a real jerk. We have a poor and powerless person tilting against someone who is both powerful and privileged. The sheer difference in power between the widow and the judge would have been obvious to the people who first heard this story. This power differential is essential to our understanding just how significant the widow’s actions are. Her persistence and unwillingness to not give up or lose hope is her most enduring and endearing trait.

But let’s not be quick to romanticize her. The fact is that because of the power differential between her and the judge, and his generally insensitive and unjust practice, it would have taken enormous courage for her to keep going back again and again. She took real risks in seeking after justice in this way. It could have just as easily gone the other direction with her finding herself not only without justice against her opponent, but being treated unjustly by the judge for her behavior.

Even so, we’re told that her persistence pays off and the judge grants her justice. And, Jesus tells us that God grants justice to his chosen ones who cry out day and night. And further that he will not delay long in helping them.

You see, I believe that his passage isn’t really about prayer as much as it is about us. We are the widow. And like the widow, we are called to be agents of justice and reconciliation in the world. We’re called to recognize injustice and brokenness and do something about it. We’re called to realize that without our persistence in the face of injustice nothing will change. When Jesus refers to the crying out of his chosen ones, that’s not simply about petitioning God, but about our active involvement in trying to right the wrongs of this world and seeking God’s help to do so. Our fundamental commitment needs to be to our fellow human beings. Why? Because, as I have said before, for Jesus our relationship to God is about our relationship to others. God works through us to be the justice that the world so deeply needs.

This is summed up well in the words of the 16th century mystic, Teresa of Avila, who says

Christ has no body now but yours.
No hands, no feet on earth but yours.
Yours are the eyes through which he looks compassion on this world.
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good.
Yours are the hands through which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.  

St. Teresa of Ávila (attributed)

This is what it means to have faith. This is the faith that Jesus wonders aloud about at the end of our passage today. He’s not raising a question about our piety as much as about our willingness to seek and serve God in all persons. He is commending us to seek out the dignity and justice that the Reign of God demands.

When we claim the high calling of the Gospel to be the love of Christ in this world, it is more than about being emotionally loving and nice. Rather it is about being like this widow and facing off against the unjust judges of the world. We are called to work to address the issues of poverty, injustice, and war that are all too prevalent today. We are called to recognize that wherever the basic needs and dignity of other people are being violated we have a duty to not stand by and let it happen. Unlike some political and social voices today, we are called to recognize that our thoughts and prayers alone are insufficient. We must act to right the wrongs and restore dignity and justice for every human being.

Now if that sounds overwhelming, I understand. It is overwhelming. But is it any more overwhelming than for a first century widow to seek justice from an unjust judge? The point of this Gospel, however, is not for us to be superheroes, but to do what we can in persistent and consistent ways. Through acts like our Wednesday feeding program, helping with the Puyallup Food Bank, the collection of sleeping bags for St. Francis House, or providing housing to people in recovery, we make a difference in the lives of others and do the work God has given us to do. When we participate in our democratic system and persistently call on our elected representatives to do this work with us we are living into the call that Jesus makes in this parable.

This is what it means to have the faith that Jesus wonders about at the end of today’s passage. It is not sufficient to simply believe in God. We are called, as Teresa of Avila says, to be God’s hands and feet in the world today. But the hope of such a calling is nothing less than the love and the transformation of God. We are yet again being called to realize that when we live into such a vocation, then the kingdom of God is within our reach — that the love, the peace, and the joy of God is available to us all if we but have the faith of the widow.