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.
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
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