Sermon of October 21, 2007

October 21, 2007
Luke 18:1-8
29^h Sunday in Ordinary Time

Seeking Justice, Keeping Faith

Jesus’ parables are scripture, and scripture is a dangerous thing. Whether a prophetic utterance or a quaint little story, “The word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword” (Hebrews 4:12). Even a simple story can cut deep.

“In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people . . .”

How this fellow got to be a judge is anyone’s guess. Perhaps he knew the right people or was born into the right family. Perhaps the process for selecting judges was flawed and this fellow just slipped through the cracks. Jesus doesn’t say. However it happened, this man became a judge despite his obvious lack of qualifications.

“In that (same) city was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, “Grant me justice against my opponent . . .”

Widows in Jesus’ day, you might remember, were particularly vulnerable. Although they were allowed to inherit from their husbands, if their husbands died poor, they had to depend on their male relatives for support.

I can imagine that some man was taking advantage of this widow – inflating some debt her dead husband owed, perhaps, or refusing to pay what he himself owed her. Again, Jesus doesn’t give us details.

Her cause, however, is just, as any fair judge can readily see. The law and the evidence are on her side. All she wants is justice.

So, day after day, this woman goes to the city gate, the first-century equivalent of the courthouse, where the judge is holding court.

On the first day the judge ignores her. She doesn’t have money. She doesn’t have connections. She isn’t even a man. She is easy to ignore.

On the second day he does the same.

Toward the end of the week, this woman is getting on the judge’s nerves. He hears her case but refuses to rule.

She starts to follow him around the city streets. She hangs outside his house. Every day the same woman. Every day the same just cause. Every day the same appeal for justice. She is impolite and obnoxious, and she will not go away.

At last the unjust judge can take no more. Not because he fears God, not because he respects the law or has sympathy for the widow, but simply because she has worn him down, he grants the justice so long denied her.

It’s easy to imagine this story being told in a house church of the first century. Those early Christians would have identified with the widow in the story. Like her, they were vulnerable. Like her, they were without influence or clout. But, also like her, they could pray – daily, consistently, constantly, with the hope that, one day, they would be heard and answered.

It’s also easy to imagine the indignation of those early Christians toward this unjust judge. According to the law of Israel, a judge’s job is to look after the widow, the orphan, and the alien – the “least of these” in society. Over and over, the scriptures bear witness to the fact that these are the very people who have a special place in God’s heart.

“Father of orphans and protector of widows is God in his holy habitation,” says Psalm 68:5.

“The Lord watches over the strangers; he upholds the orphan and the widow,” says Psalm 146:9.

I don’t think the early church mistook the judge in this story for God. He’s the exact opposite of God, and that’s what makes his example encouraging. If this widow can get justice from this jerk of a judge, who doesn’t care a thing about her or her kind, how much more will God, whose preferences are plastered all over the pages of scripture, grant justice to those who “cry to him, day and night?”

According to Luke, Jesus tells this story for two reasons: first, to remind his disciples of “their need to pray always,” and second to keep up their hopes – to urge them “not to lose heart.”

God’s justice is on the way. God’s kingdom is around the corner. And when it arrives, at is surely will, who be found still praying, still working, still seeking and doing the will of God? “When the Son of Man comes,” asks Jesus, “will he find faith on earth?”

As we ponder Jesus’ story with it’s concluding question, another story, now familiar, comes to mind.

There was a mother who had a son. He was fourteen years old, and his skin was black. Although the woman loved her son, he became rebellious and disrespectful -- more than she could handle. He broke the law, and a judge sent him to a boot camp to teach him a lesson.

On his first day at the camp, the boy was told to run laps and do exercises. When he didn’t perform as he was ordered, the adults over him harassed and berated him. Several times he fell or was forced to the ground. They hauled him to his feet, his legs buckling under him. He seemed to be sick. They decided he was faking. When he lost consciousness, they put ammonia capsules under his nose and forced his mouth shut. After several minutes, the boy was barely breathing. He was taken to the hospital and put on life support. The next day, the machines were removed, and the boy died.

The boy’s mother cried out for justice. She said that the adults at the camp had killed her son. After a long time, a trial was held, and the jury decided that the adults at the camp were not guilty of killing her son.

The mother said that wasn’t just. She said that because her son’s skin was black and the jury’s skin was white, they hadn’t delivered justice. In the capital city, hundreds of college students, whose skin is also black, said the same. Angry and frustrated, they cried out for justice. They even stood in the street in the middle of rush hour because, they thought, if we don’t do something like this, the people responsible for seeing that justice is done will not pay attention.

“What a brave thing to do,” some people said.

“What a silly thing to do,” said others. “As if that will make a difference.

And still, to this day, the woman whose son is dead and the students whose skin is black are calling for justice. Day after day, week after week, they prod and push and annoy. They are impolite and obnoxious. and they will no go away.

People tell them to “get over it,” but they won’t stop calling for justice. Justice for the boy who died. Justice for people who look like him. Justice for the vulnerable, the weak, the powerless – the same people who have always had a special place in God’s heart.

Two stories – one very old and one still unfolding. You must listen with your own ears to hear God’s word in them, but let me tell you what I hear.

I hear a call to Jesus’ disciples today: a call for persistence in prayer and persistence in seeking justice. I hear God saying that justice can come forth, even from a flawed system, and I hear loudly and clearly where God’s sympathies lie.

Let me be clear. I am not saying that we can fix everything that’s wrong in this fallen world. You and I, by our own efforts, will not bring in God’s kingdom. We will never achieve perfect justice. Perfect justice will come only with the coming of the Son of Man.

But as I hear both of these stories together, I hear the Son of Man saying to us, “Beloved, you can do better than this.”

As sure as Christ, the Son of Man, is risen, as sure as he is present amongst the least of these, as sure as he will judge the living and the dead, his kingdom will come.

Meanwhile, the word of God is living and active. It cuts both ways. Jesus puts to us the same question he put to his first followers. “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”

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