Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
This morning’s Gospel lesson, this parable of the Persistent
Widow, is fundamentally about prayer. Luke makes sure we understand this: “And
Jesus told them a parable to the effect that they ought always to pray and not
lose heart.”
Prayer is one of God’s great gifts to us. He welcomes,
invites, and encourages us to come to Him in prayer, placing before Him our
petitions, our needs, our fears, as children speak to their father. He does
this out of His great, fatherly love for us. “Cast all your cares upon Him,
because He cares for you,” is a Bible verse that is familiar to many, if not
most, of us. And, so we do – from morning prayers to bedtime prayers, before
and after meals, in church and in living rooms, in hospitals and in
restaurants, together and alone, we turn to the Lord with prayers we know from
memory and with those that arise from the needs of the moment.
I cannot prove this, I don’t have demonstrable, objective
data to offer as evidence, but I have a working theory that our prayers –
especially of the North American Christian church – miss what our Lord teaches
about prayer. I think the driving force behind this is our culture of
consumerism. Think about it: we see something on television; we want it; we go
get it, one way or the other – cash, credit, or barter. We do it with goods and
services. We do it at school – if I do extra credit, can I get a few extra
points? We do it at work – what do I need to do to be considered for that job?
We even do it with our health – Doc, what do I need to do to get my blood
pressure down?
And, so we carry this day-to-day way of life over to the
economics of prayer – not the theology of prayer, but the economics. Much like
kids with their Christmas lists, we come to God with our laundry list of wants
and perceived needs. It’s been said the only difference between men and boys is
the price of their toys; I suspect this is true in prayer, too. At the risk of
stereotypes, a boy prays for a new Matchbox car and his dad prays for a new
pickup truck; a girl prays for a new dollhouse while mom prays for a house as
nice as her sister’s.
So, when we hear Jesus say we should always pray and not
lose heart, it sounds like it’s another piece of the economics puzzle. If we
follow this widow’s persistence and keep pestering Jesus for the new Matchbox
or dollhouse, or the new truck or new house, or the new job, or the A on the
exam, or even our health and the wellbeing of loved ones, then, surely, He will
grant our request. Or, better yet, if I get another person to pray with me, or
two more, or twelve more, or even two dozen more – strength in numbers, right!
– surely, God will relent and give me what I want, I mean, need.
And, so with our consumer-driven Christianity, we take this
parable as if we somehow have a secret key to getting God to answer our
prayers. Rubbing our hands together, we assemble our prayer warriors and get
set to wear God down with our incessant praying to get what we want.
There are several problems here. First is the assumption
that God, like a kind-hearted Great-Grandpa, is just waiting to spoil us with
all the goodies we want. Every prayer is not guaranteed a “yes.” Many prayers
merit an answer of “no.” Second, we cannot manipulate God with our prayers, as
if there is a secret formula. Third, there is no overwhelming God with
increased number of prayers or praying people for Him to give us what we
request.
So, if the parable isn’t about getting what we want in
prayer, then what is it about? It’s about praying faithfully, even when it
doesn’t seem the Lord is listening. But, not praying for just anything –
specifically, praying for His mercy.
Prayer, like all aspects of the sanctified Christian life,
is lived in faith – specifically, that God will hear and he will answer in His
time and in His perfect knowledge. But there are times when faith grows weary,
especially as we continue to wait for our Lord’s return. And, perhaps, nothing
is more wearing on faith than when children of God face the unrighteousness and
wickedness of this world and pray for the Lord to intercede on behalf of the
weakest and the neediest and the poorest and the least of all. We pray and pray and pray for these, our
brothers and sisters in Christ, but it seems nothing is happening – at least,
not in this world. The suffering goes on, there is no redemption or rescue, and
it is easy to become discouraged or give up when it seems our petitions aren’t
being answered, either soon enough or in ways we can tangibly see.
You’ve seen this. You pray and pray for the dear friend who
lost their job mid-pandemic and can’t find gainful employment. You pray and
pray for your cousin, an alcoholic, bouncing between shelters and the hospital,
slowly burning up her liver and stomach. You pray and pray for your daughter
who claims she has become a Wiccan, denies Jesus, and thinks that hell and the
devil are just fairy tails you told to scare her into being a good girl. You
pray and pray for your neighbor, the former soldier, who saw too much and heard
too much and has fallen into a terrible state of depression and despair. And,
you especially pray for those who suffer for the sake of Christ. You pray for
missionaries who are mocked. You pray for pastors who are ignored because they
don’t preach wealth and happiness. You pray for Several years ago, you heard a
presentation from a missionary to Africa, so you have been praying and praying
for the church there, only to read a news story that says, on average, a
Christian is killed every two hours in Nigeria.[1] You pray and pray, yet nothing seems to
change. And, in moments like that, when it feels like faith’s mustard-seed is
being ground up into powder, you turn to the Lord and – much like the disciples
in the sinking boat – turn and cry out, “Lord, don’t you care that these people
are perishing?”
This parable is for you, you who pray faithfully while it
seems as if nothing changes and the Lord refuses to act. At first glance, it
doesn’t seem so – especially when the God-figure in the parable, the judge, is
shamelessly unscrupulous, neither fearing God nor his constituents. And even
the parable’s widow is shameless – in that ancient world, no self-respecting
widow would dare show herself before a judge, let alone repeatedly after
getting a firm initial answer. But the unrighteousness and unscrupulousness
isn’t the point – it’s the final action that takes place because the shameless
judge’s reputation is at stake by a shameless woman. Our translation says, “I
will give her justice, so that she will not beat me down by her continual
coming.” More accurately, it reads, “I will give her justice so that she not
keep coming until the end and give me a black eye.” So, here is the point: if
this human judge, who is known as being shameless, succumbs to the persistent
widow and gives her justice, then how much more will God, who is known for mercy and compassion, vindicate those
who call out to Him for justice and action. God’s reputation is at stake. He
has promised salvation to His people, the Church, who cry out to Him day and
night. He must vindicate; He must rescue; He must save because He has promised
to do that very thing.
Note why God answers – not because of persistent prayer, or
because of the quantity of people praying. He answers because He is who He is:
He is faithful, and He keeps His promises for mercy and compassion. Although
sinners deserve His alien work of wrath and anger, He acts mercifully even in
our long-suffering this side of heaven because of the suffering of Jesus on the
cross, His death and atonement, for our sakes.
In Luke’s narrative, the cross looms large on the ever-nearing
horizon. Literally, the Passion narrative is only a few pages away. Jesus’
enemies are rallying, growing in number and in strength, seeking only an
opportunity to spring their evil plan against Him whom they reject as Messiah. The tension mounts – He is betrayed by one of
His own; He is put on trial before an unjust, unscrupulous judge who cares
nothing for God nor man but only his reputation as being better than others
around him. Yet, the Lord goes forward. He prays in the Upper Room, in the
Garden, on trial. As spikes pierce His hands and feet, as a penitent thief
cries for mercy, He prays to His Father who seems both silent and terribly slow
to act. Remarkably, He prays not for vindication but for their forgiveness by
the Great Judge of all. He promises salvation quickly; today, paradise would be
granted.
Our long-suffering Judge, who vindicates quickly, wants His
Church to pray constantly, that is uninterruptedly and without ceasing,
continually, with perseverance, and confidently for the return of Jesus even as
the Church suffers this side of heaven.
The underlying reality is the Good News that God is merciful and
long-suffering and He will deliver the Church in Christ. We pray, in faith,
hope-filled in the promise of God in Christ Jesus, who always answers Yes to
prayers for compassion, mercy and grace. Those very prayers, uttered sometimes
from the very depths of prison in China, at the bloody executioner’s station in
Iraq, and in pews in the comfort of South Texas, those persistent prayers of
the saints imploring the Lord to return soon to relieve them from suffering –
Come, Lord Jesus! – this is the very sign of faith that Jesus asks about. It is
both the faith, that is the truth of Jesus Christ as Savior, and the act of
faithfulness, that trusts those spoken-yet-unseen promises of God waiting to be
fulfilled on the last day.
Your prayers, persistent, constant, never-ceasing, for those
who suffer so much this side of heaven, your prayers stand as the very evidence
of the faith that trusts Christ’s promise: Behold, I am coming soon.
Even so, come, Lord Jesus. Come.
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