She should never have been at his door in the first place!
She was a woman. Except for the ability to produce an heir for her husband, women in her day were numbered with the sheep and cattle.
She was a widow. We don’t know if there were children, but we do know there was no other family to help her, because if there had been a brother, or uncle, or even a brother-in-law, that person would be at the judge’s door instead.
Widows had no rights in ancient Israel. They were objects of charity. They could not own property, they could not earn an income, they could not remain in the family home.
Whatever gave her the courage to knock at that door must have been powerful. All we know is that there was an injustice, and she wanted it made right. She wanted it so badly that she was willing to defy convention, defy the community, and defy this judge, who tried his best to ignore her.
In the end, what moved the judge was fear. The scripture says “I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.” But a closer translation of the Greek would read: “I will grant her justice, because I am afraid she will give me a black eye.” The judge feared public humiliation at the hands of this powerless widow.
The easiest interpretation of this parable places us in the role of the widow with God as the judge. Luke says: “Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart.” So we are encouraged to be like the widow, always bringing our prayers before God, never giving up, always willing to ask God for what we need.
That is a possible reading of the parable, but I don’t like it, because I cannot see God in the role of the unjust judge. I cannot understand a God who is corrupt, uncaring, and unlawful, refusing to act against injustice unless he is afraid for his own personal safety. .
Moreover, this reading of the parable also suggests that if we badger God long enough, we can wear him down. That if we keep coming with our requests, eventually, God will relent, change his mind and grant them. That image simply doesn’t fit with the God of scripture that I have come to know.
Fortunately, we do not know God only from a single parable. We have an entire canon of scripture at hand, centuries of stories of how God interacts with humanity. We can turn to this morning’s reading from the Hebrew scriptures which is another story of persistence and an unsavory character.
Jacob was a heel. That, in fact, is one of the possible translations of the Hebrew word, Jacob. Heel. Jacob, you will remember is the one who stole his brother’s birthright from the hands of their dying father. Later, he managed to deceive his father-in-law, Laban, and become rich, while Laban’s herds dwindled and his fortune grew small. In the end, Jacob sought to return to his own land, where his brother Esau had remained. But Jacob was rightly afraid of his brother. So Jacob stopped his journey at the border, beside the river Jabbok. There he packed up his fortune: his wives, his children, his herds, his slaves and all of his possessions. He sent all that he owned across the river ahead of him, with message to his brother. “Here,” said Jacob, “I have done you wrong. Accept these gifts and forgive me.” Having done all he could, Jacob lay down to sleep.
A man came to him in the darkness and they wrestled all the long night. And the man would not give way, nor would Jacob let him go. Jacob knew his wrestling partner was no ordinary human being, and so he said, “You may not go until you give me your blessing.”
And so the devious heel, Jacob, received a blessing, and a wound (which, by the way, left him with a limp, so he would never forget this night) and, last of all, he got a new name. No longer would Jacob be the heel. Forever more, he would be - Israel. Scholars debate the exact meaning of this word – Israel – but most of them agree that it means something like: God persists.
God persists. The widow was persistent.
What if we read Luke’s parable that way? What if God is the persistent widow? What if God is the one who sees injustice and names it and it is God who cries out until justice is achieved. It is God who persists, no matter how often or how hard we human beings try to evade, to get away, to appease. It is God who will have justice, it is God whose will, WILL be done, despite our frequent obstructions.
But if God is the one who persists then we become the unjust judge. We are the ones who do not want to hear the continual clamor of the oppressed. We are the ones who are tired, overwhelmed by the noise of need and so we are immobilized. Or we are like Jacob, always ready to move for our own advantage, more concerned with our own needs than with the rights of others.
And, like Jacob and the unjust judge, we are the ones who are afraid.
Jacob was afraid. In Genesis chapter 33 we read that “Jacob looked up and saw Esau coming toward him, and four hundred men were with him.” Jacob was terrified. He knew what he had done wrong. He knew what he deserved.
The judge was afraid. The job description of a judge was clearly put forward in the Book of Deuteronomy, and Luke’s judge knew he had not followed the rules. He admitted that he had “no fear of God and no respect for anyone.” And yet he feared the potential for public humiliation that the widow presented. He knew what he deserved and he did not want it.
But out of his fear, Jacob found the determination to hang on, all night long. Beaten, battered and bruised, yet he demanded a blessing and got one. And he got a new name. That name carries with it God’s promise that there will be a future. That name carries with it descendants more in number than the grains of sand in the desert. That name, Israel, does not promise that the people will always get it right. It does not promise that the people will always remember. But that name is filled with the promise that God will never forget.
Finally, Jesus asked his disciples: “… when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”
When these words were written down, Jesus had already been crucified. He had risen from the dead, and ascended to his Father in heaven. His promise that he would come again was a lively and immediate memory for the first century Christians.
The people to whom Luke wrote were under persecution. Life was not easy for them. They were no longer part of the Jewish community, and they refused to be part of Rome’s emperor cult. Prison and death came often to Christians in Luke’s day. Fear was a constant companion.
But as Jacob knew, the antidote to fear is hope. Jacob knew the ancient words of the psalmist:
(Ps 33:18) Truly the eye of the LORD is on those who fear him, on those who hope in his steadfast love,
(Psalm 62:5) For God alone my soul waits in silence, for my hope is from him.
And we have the writing of Paul, who said to the Church at Rome: ( Romans 5:3) (We know) “that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not disappoint us, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.
Hope is our inheritance as Christians. Hope is a wrestling match that ends with blessing and a new name. Hope is justice achieved. Hope is the presence of God’s kingdom, here and now, in this day, in this moment, for us.
In today’s world, there are many options, but there is one promise. At our baptism, we are promised the gift of eternal life. Through scripture and experience, we learn that eternal life is not someday, but now and forever. God will hold us in the palm of his hand. God will care for us, and never leave us alone. In bad times or good, in illness, weakness, and failure, all we have to do is be faithful. All we have to do is be faithful.
Paul reminded the Christians at Corinth that three things abide – these three things, faith, hope and love, are for ever and they are God’s gift to us. We do nothing to earn this gift. We have only to receive it.
We are the descendants of the one who wrestled all night with God. We are loved by a God who persists, a God who will keep knocking at the closed doors of our hearts forever and forever and forever. We too live in anxious times. We too are afraid. The experts tell us things are better, but they must know things we don’t. Here, down at street level, things are still pretty scary. Last week, the requests for emergency financial assistance that reached my desk totaled $7,599 – in only one week. And, no, I did not have funds to help all of them.
But because we have an emergency assistance line item in our budget, I was able to help some of them. And for those who were helped, it was a miracle. Those who were helped – every single one of them - praised God and each time I heard their prayers I was reminded of my own good fortune. I am part of the Body of Christ on this earth in this congregation, in this church building, which is, both to those who come here and those who pass by a visible, tangible sign of faith, hope and love.
God grant us the courage to accept the gifts set before us. God grant us the wisdom to use those gifts in the service of the kingdom. May we love God and love one another and live each day with God’s peace in our hearts. In this way we will know that when the Son of Man comes in his glory and the glory of the Father and of the holy angels, when that day comes, there WILL be faith on earth. Amen