Luke 18:1-8
I recently received my annual
solicitation letter from the organization called “Madonna of the
Streets.” It began many years ago in Buffalo, where a friend of
mine, a scientist at Roswell Park, together with a woman who ran a
small restaurant, decided to do something about the increasing
numbers of homeless people in downtown Buffalo and the surrounding
areas. They began by making free meals available at the restaurant.
Eventually they were feeding about two hundred people. This required
getting support, and that is when they went full time into their
efforts. My friend, a husband and father of two grown sons, resigned
from his job and began to go door to door raising funds. Being a
strong Catholic, he depended on God to provide, and it happened. The
ministry now involves a homeless shelter, a homework house, a place
where people of the streets can get cleaned up and get some decent
clothing and counseling and helped with addiction and many other
services available through volunteers – and they work out of an old
inner city parish plant that was falling into disrepair. And the
ministry of providing nutritious meals to the homeless continues. My
friend was troubled by what he saw as injustice, and decided to do
something about it.
Today we hear another one of those
parables that seems simple on the surface, but probably isn't. Part
of the reason is that Saint Luke sets us up; he tells us that Jesus
told this parable to emphasize the necessity of praying always
without growing weary. And so when we read the parable, we see
ourselves represented by the widow and God represented by the judge.
And then we expect that if we pray long enough and hard enough our
prayers will be answered. And they aren't not always. You and I
know that.
But I think we need to look at this
parable differently. First, is the judge really standing in for God?
Jesus calls him unjust, and he is arrogant, fearing neither God nor
man. And he has no intention of listening to the widow. That
doesn't sound much like the God Jesus talks about. And then, the
widow. In Israel, widows were supposed to be rushed to the head of
the line when they complained of injustice; the only ones who had
precedence over the widow was the orphan. That was made very clear
in the Laws of Moses. Widows and orphans, in fact, were numbered
among those who were considered innocent unless proven guilty, the
ones who would be called “just ones”, along with other
categories; the foreigner in your midst; the poor being another
group. Moses and the prophets had made it clear that God was on
their side.
So when we keep that in mind, we see a
widow who is being denied her God-given right to be heard. But
eventually, the judge decides to hear her case and, it says, deliver
a just decision for her.
Many of Jesus' parables end with an
explicit comparison between someone in the parable and the Father.
Remember the one about the father who would not give his son a
scorpion if he asked for a fish? But in this parable, Jesus says,
“Listen to what the dishonest judge says!” The dishonest judge
is being embarrassed by the widow; if we read the original Greek, it
would say “because this widow is giving me a black eye...” which
was an expression meaning “public shaming”. In other words,
despite the character of the judge, despite the fact that he starts
out with no intention of hearing the widow's case, justice is
eventually done.
So Jesus is telling this story to
illustrate that God will deliver justice to his just ones who cry out
to him; and Jesus says this will be done speedily. And then he
laments, will he find faith on earth when he returns?
The widow never stopped pestering the
judge to hear her case. She would call him on the phone, bang on his
door, meet him in Starbucks when he was trying to get a coffee, walk
up and down his sidewalk carrying a picket sign; she just wouldn't
stop. And Jesus is saying the same thing will happen if his just
ones do the same thing. If we go out and do something about
injustice, if we make a nuisance of ourselves, if we never give up,
God will give justice, and the more noise we make, the quicker it
will happen. But it isn't happening, and it wasn't happening in
Jesus' time, and there aren't many who cry out for justice and of
those there aren't many who are persistent. And that's why he
worries that he won't find faith.
I suspect any of us who have listened
to Christ's words Sunday after Sunday are aware that justice was very
high on His priority list. And at the same time we have to admit we
could do more to bring about justice, to be the tools God uses to
bring about the kingdom of God where justice rules. When we look at
all the injustice in the world it is pretty overwhelming. We read
about refugees from the middle east, especially Syria, who have lost
everything, or the people of North Korea, who live in a country-sized
prison. But there is plenty of injustice right here in our area; why
shouldn't a kid growing up in Springfield have the same opportunity
for education as one growing up in Longmeadow? And indeed, why
should anyone have to live out of a shopping cart and seek shelter
under a bridge at night? That's happening just a few miles from
here.
So I guess a question we should ponder
this week is how can we be better instruments of God's justice? Like
the judge in Jesus' story I have the power to render justice but
don't. Maybe I am the dishonest judge who refuses to render a just
judgement.
