Luke 18:1-8
Let me tell you a parable.
There was a man who had two daughters – one was Tenacious and the other was Gracious. When Tenacious wanted something she went to her father to ask for it. He would say, “give her what she wants so she will get out of here. When Gracious wanted something she would go to her father, also. However, the father was not so quick to grant her wishes, because he enjoyed her conversation so much he would prolong it.[1]
Think on that for a while.
Parables are hard, and Jesus used parables an awful lot. I think it might have been because there was a lot of competition for the people’s attention. There were other teachers around, not least of all, the Pharisees. There were other freelance prophets and wannabe messiahs wandering around looking for an audience. You know, if one man’s message wasn’t interesting enough, you could always go to the next guy who was preaching down at the next corner. The first century equivalent of flipping the channel.
Jesus used parables a lot because he was smart, and a parable is a uniquely economical way of teaching. It doesn’t require very many words. you just say it, put it out there and let it do its work. And for anyone who has ears to hear, the parable will work. It will work on your mind, your imagination, and your conscience for a long time to come, as you puzzle over and tease out the wealth of meaning there is in it.
Jesus used parables a lot because he was exceptionally good at this method. He had a good number of tools in his parable toolbox. Sometimes he would pull out this one tool, where he would say, “The kingdom of God is like…” Then he would spin a story that would draw his audience a vivid picture of some facet of the reign of God. If he had used that one in this case, the parable of the widow and the judge, he might have said –
The kingdom of God is like this crooked little fiefdom. Run by a small-minded tyrant who disrespects his constituents, particularly the ones who can’t do something for him. The poor, the orphans, and the widows are the absolute worst, he thinks. Because they always seem to need something but they never have anything to give him.
Because it almost sounds like this is what he is saying in the parable of the widow and the judge. Are we to understand that God is like the judge in this story? It isn’t the first time that we’ve heard this kind of comparison in his parables. Remember the Parable of the Friend at Midnight, where a man receives unexpected guests, arriving late one night. Because they were not expected, he has nothing in the house to offer them – no bread for them to eat. This is an acute embarrassment to him, and an inconvenience for his tired guests. So the man dashes over to his nearest neighbor’s house, knowing he can rely on his friend. He knocks on the door, quietly at first. But no one answers so his knocks get louder, and he resorts to shouting at the door, hoping to rouse someone inside so they will give him what he needs. He knows they are in there. They’re just enjoying their beds too much.
In this case, are we, perhaps, to understand that God is like a neighbor who can help you if he wants to, but he’s sleeping and would prefer not to have his sleep disturbed?
These are challenging parables – not only because they offer us a portrait of God that is not entirely likeable. They challenge us also because this portrait of God doesn’t seem in keeping with the other messages we take away from God’s word.
Take the matter of widows, for example. The law of Israel has many things to say regarding the care of orphans and widows – the most vulnerable members of society. In a world that valued women for their fertility, a widow had nothing to offer. Having been the property of some man who was no longer living, she was nothing.
The law of Israel makes clear, however, God demands that special consideration be given to the most vulnerable ones, including the widows. Therefore, it seems unlikely to me that God is like the lazy friend at midnight, or the nasty judge confronted by the widow.
The judge in this parable seems to be indifferent toward the needs of widows – but not only that – he seems to be indifferent toward justice. Because we are told that this woman comes to him day after day pleading her case for justice. Justice – that wrongs should be made right. In the words of the prophet Isaiah, that every valley be lifted up and mountain brought low, that the crooked be made straight and the rough made smooth. Justice is a central concern for the God of Israel. No, I can’t really see this crooked judge in the image of God.
But then, I must admit, Jesus didn’t actually say that God is like this judge.
This time, he pulled a different tool out of his box, one that draws not on similarities but on differences. It goes like this:
If even you, who are sinful, would do this good thing, is it too hard to imagine that God in heaven would do this and more?
If you, imperfect parents that you are, know enough to not give a snake to your child, is it too hard to believe that God in heaven gives good gifts?
If you, weak and frail vessel that you are, can be roused to get up and give your neighbor what he needs, is it too hard to believe that God in heaven will answer your pleas? And,
If even a crooked judge, one who doesn’t honor God, one who disdains his neighbors, will eventually relent and give justice, can you trust that God in heaven will also grant justice to those who are patient?
This still isn’t an easy parable to deal with – and maybe there is no such thing as an easy parable – because here we still need to wrestle with the notion of how we finally find justice. Will God not grant justice to those who cry out to him day and night? So is the message, then, that like the widow we must return again and again and again, without fail, to make our case, to plead for justice before a merciful God?
Will God delay long in helping those who cry out to God day and night, faithfully, persistently, passionately? Here is a message we mustn’t let slip away. There are two things I want to highlight.
First, the cry is for justice. Were I to cry out night and day for a cashmere sweater set or a Mercedes Benz – well, these matters are not high on God’s agenda.
But even more, it is what lies behind the cry that really matters, it is what drives the widow to return again and again to make her case – the faith, the passion, the perseverance. Do we care enough about justice to make our voices heard? Again and again and again.
“When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” Because that is what it will take. Let me tell you another parable.
During the time of the Civil Rights movement in this nation, there was a Black woman living in a southern state who wanted to register to vote. She walked down to the courthouse and told the clerk what she wanted. The clerk turned her away. She came back the next day and asked again, but again she was turned away. The woman returned to the courthouse every day with her request, and every day was turned away. Until one day when she walked in and made her request and the clerk said to her, “I’m gonna let you register to vote just so I don’t ever have to look at your ugly face again.” Such as it was, she received justice.[2]
This one is actually true.
Justice will take some time. It will take all the time that is needed for enough people to see injustice and condemn it, to devote themselves to the cause and demand it. Justice will arrive when our faith is strong enough to give us the political will to work for peace, to ensure that no one goes without their basic needs met. Justice will arrive when we, all of God’s people, are ready for it.
I want to tell you one more parable – this one is also true.
Mother Theresa was visiting New York to speak with some high-powered executives about her work among the poor in Calcutta. Unbeknownst to her, the executives had agreed with one another before the meeting that they would not give her any money. She made her plea to them, but they said, “We appreciate what you do, but we just can’t commit any funds at this time.” Mother Theresa said, “Let us pray.” They bowed their heads and she asked God to soften the hearts of these men. When she finished her prayer, she asked again if they would consider donating to her work. They said once more that they were sorry but could not commit any funds at this time. Mother Theresa said, “Let us pray.”
Pretty soon, they pulled out their checkbooks.[3]
These stories tell us God cares powerfully about justice and wants us to care powerfully about justice. And they also seem to tell us that when we do, God may even work through those who don’t care about justice much at all. God works in mysterious ways.
Indeed. Don’t lose heart.
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Photo: Registering to vote in Albany, Georgia
[1] A parable of Rabbi Eleazar, called The Tenacious Daughter. The Parables, Brad H. Young, p.51.
[2] Heard on National Public Radio’s Story Corps Project.
[3] As told by Pastor Tom Long, quoted on http://cep.calvinseminary.edu
