Luke 18:1-8 · The Parable of the Persistent Widow
Lord, I Believe - Or Do I?
Luke 18:1-8
Sermon
Loading...

In his ministry of teaching, Jesus was a master at the art of storytelling. Many of his stories, known as parables, have been our favorites through the years since first we heard them. They can be repeated many times, and we will never tire of them - the story of the Good Samaritan, the prodigal, the two men praying in the temple, the sower in the field. And the lessons that the Master taught in parables are pointed, holding up for our inspection virtues to be practiced, vices to avoid, relationships to be cultivated, and especially his promise to believe.

His promise cloaked in parables is most important. The burden that the parables of Jesus carry is much weightier than little tidbits of morality or vice or virtue. Their concern is not so much with our behavior and what we are up to as they are with God’s behavior and what he is up to. They bring the promise of the Gospel of the kingdom and impel response. They lay the kingdom claim upon our hearts and lives and impel us to submit. They have a way of pricking like a needle at those tender places where our weakness and our need for healing is most obvious. They speak assurance when the going is most rough. They stamp the guarantee of love eternal when the prospects are most dim.

But the parables cannot be mastered. They cannot be heard or read like Aesop’s fables with the casual concern that says, "I’ve heard that one before. What’s new?" They refuse to be defused, for unlike a land mine that is detonated only once, the parables are detonated every time we step on them. The parable may be the same, but in kaleidoscopic fashion the design is changed with every turn of time. The word it brings us in the here-and-now will be quite different from the word it brought us in the there-and-then.

So it is with this one, The Parable of the Unrighteous Judge, or the Parable of the Persistent Widow, or the Parable of Persevering Prayer, or the Parable of Tenacious Faith. It has been known by all these names. But today the major message waits for this last line, the one so frequently ignored, sometimes omitted altogether, "When the Son of man comes, will he find faith on the earth?"

The Promise

The parable of this unrighteous judge served as a prelude to that question. It was less concerned with telling us to keep on praying than it was with interjecting into our impatience, faithlessness, and hopelessness the promise of the Kingdom, the assurance that though hidden now behind the Cross, the Kingdom will be manifested in the end in all its glory. For, "will not God vindicate his elect, who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long over them? I tell you, he will vindicate them speedily."

In a certain town an unjust judge was on the bench who neither feared the Lord nor cared what people thought of him. His job security did not depend on justice in the courtroom. And a woman in that town who was a widow, assertive and persistent, kept coming back to this unrighteous jurist with her case in which she had received no justice and no settlement, perhaps a money matter, or a problem of inheritance, or an oppression which was common in the lives of widows in those days. She had no recourse other than the court, but in her case the court was useless, for His Honor didn’t seem to understand or care. He had no conscience for justice. But the widow kept on coming in the hope that by persistence she could wear him down, and he would have to settle the affair to get her off his neck. Finally, when she had made his nerves raw with her pest-like pleading, he yielded, settled in her favor, vindicated her.

Is God like that? And the Lord said, "Hear what the unrighteous judge says. And will not God vindicate his elect, who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long over them? I tell you, he will vindicate them speedily. Nevertheless, when the Son of man comes, will he find faith on the earth?"

Two caveats as an aside may be in order here. First, with a hint at humor, this is not designed to tell us how to handle judges when we feel that justice handed down has been imperfect. Court costs and attorney fees can be expensive in repeat performances. Appeals are finally exhausted. Even the suggestion that a judge might be unjust can lead to charges of contempt. And secondly, the parable does not imply through this dim picture of the jurist that God is like that, that he has no interest in our case, no concern for justice, and that he has to be cajoled before he listens.

If an unjust scoundrel of a judge will finally do justice, will not God also grant the prayers of his disciples? And if God, whose heart is heavy with compassion for his own, promises their vindication in the end, will he not also be concerned for our undying faithfulness and watchfulness, persistent faith against all odds? "When the Son of man comes, will he find faith on the earth?"

Even When Prayer Seems to Fail

Emmie, a young college student, one day at a game of tennis accidentally discovered on her abdomen a frightening lump that she had never noticed previously. She said nothing to her friends about it, but her fingers constantly moved over it as she worried and she prayed about it. As a week went by, the nodule exploded with growth. Immediate attention was required. After surgery, when pathology had given the bitter word, she cried out as I walked into her room, "They said it’s cancer. I don’t want to die."

Emmie did not die, for by a miracle that never made the headlines Emmie found her healing, not only freedom from the carcinoma, but the freedom of new faithfulness. Later I would hear her make confession of her momentary faithlessness.

But the miracle we seek may not often be the miracle received, and when bad things happen to good people, reverses that we cannot understand, sudden setbacks in our best-laid plans, we call God to account. The trite and easy answers that we hear about the will of God, or how God doesn’t always answer yes, but sometimes no, and other times not yet, these trite and easy answers are small comfort. When it seems our house has been invaded by the powers of evil, when the walls collapse around us, it is difficult to understand or to believe that nothing in creation can seperate us from the love of God in Christ. "When the Son of man comes, will he find faith on the earth?"

From the perspective of passing time it is often possible in faith, however, to see the purposes of God unfold for those who are his own. A young student of medicine, approaching his final year of study, was suddenly laid low with diabetes. The promising career ahead would live within the shadow of the needle and the insulin and the gathering clouds that threaten the diabetic. Then, but one short month into his internship, he was double-whammied by tuberculosis, contracted in his susceptibility in a hospital ward.

But the treatment for a diabetic tubercular patient resulted in what doctors called a miracle. Following his internship and residency, he was given a fellowship in chest medicine, and he went on from there to national board recognition in internal medicine and as a chest physician, and most recently as a specialist in sleep disorders. Though his soul from out the shadow is delivered nevermore, he continues practice in a vital clinic of the West. When it seems that the years of life are telescoped, God can often accomplish more through us in shorter years than in the normal lifetime, whatever that may be. "I tell you, God will vindicate them speedily. Nevertheless, when the Son of man comes, will he find faith on the earth?"

The Long View

The Master’s searching question stretches far beyond our faithless moments, beyond our questions, doubts, and answered or unanswered prayers. It has its focus on our Lord’s return for judgment and salvation and the vindication of his own. The story of the widow and the judge is a sequel to the teaching that Saint Luke recorded just ahead of this, "The days are coming when you will desire to see one of the days of the Son of man, and you will not see it." The days are coming when you would give anything to see the slightest evidence that God is working out his will and that his purposes are ripening, some sign of kingdom progress, something that would vindicate your mission and your life as his disciple.

John the Baptizer from his prison cell sent word to Jesus, asking, "Are you he that is to come, or shall we look for someone else?" He saw no evidence of anything that might resemble the Messianic kingdom he expected. "Tell John what you see and hear," the Savior answered, "how the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them." The Kingdom that will one day be revealed, when every knee will bend before the sovereign Lord and every tongue confess his holy name, is hidden now, but working surely in the midst of human anguish, among the blind, the deaf, the hungry, the diseased, the war-scarred, the distressed, the dispossessed. The headlines of the daily news point up the darkness and present exhibits of a world possessed by demons. They dismiss the Kingdom claim as nonsense while they sound the trumpet for the human genius that has cures for everything that ails our world. The gospel news points up the light of Christ who is creation’s Lord. "When the Son of man comes, will he find faith on earth?"

The days ahead for his disciples were full of peril, trial, persecution, martyrdom - and temptation to give up, toss in the towel, and accept defeat. With this parable Jesus wanted to prepare disciples for the possibility of long delay when patience would be pushed and faith stretched in the stress of mission. But their persistent prayer, "Thy kingdom come," would be answered in his time and in his way. His plan, his purpose, and his end will be accomplished and fulfilled. We have his word for that. Can we believe it? "When the Son of man comes, will he find faith on the earth?"

With confidence born of our Lord’s resurrection, his Apostles went to mission, laid their lives on chopping blocks, and hung them on cruel crosses. Their joy was never artificially designed to make an impact on their television viewing audience. They were simply certain that the promise of their Lord would be fulfilled, regardless of adverse conditions, that even in distressful times and often in despair, and frequently in their own failures, the kingdom was at hand. While we might expect them to become a crowd for whom the doom bells toll, they were instead a company who rang the bells of joy around the world. To sample their conviction in the teeth of every peril, read the masterpiece of confidence that Saint Paul penned in 2 Corinthians, chapter 4.

On what foundation did their joy and boldness rest? What mission could have motivated them when all the odds were stacked against them? This little parable of persistent patience illustrates the answer.

We Need the Parable

The church today, not always certain that its Lord knows how to run his business, often tries to run it for him. Not content that all our efforts are not crowned, we crown our own. Not willing to await the revelation of his kingdom in his time and in his way, we seek to build our little kingdoms now.

When we read the publications, bulletins, releases, and whatever flows from printing presses of the churches, we must be impressed. They speak with hype and hoopla, using words like "lively, joyous, and renewed." Every past event is termed momentous. Every listing on the calendar ahead is called a happening that no one can afford to miss. "Growth has been phenomenal, interest has heightened to a record level, a new spirit has been born," to quote directly. As one follows publications issued from the same source weekly, one can soon determine who will occupy the right hand and the left hand pedestals of glory in the kingdom.

Accentuate the positive, of course. Eliminate the negative. Our merchandising efforts must project the proper image. One does not print the latest verbal scuffle at the meeting of the presbyters, or publicize the drug use in the youth group, or reveal the scandal smoldering between two choir members. Success demands the image of success.

But the Gospel never speaks the language of a merchandising effort. Christ gives us one assurance only, that through the gospel of the cross, his cross and ours, the kingdom would appear. We stand on that assurance. We fasten on that promise. Nothing less will do.

Yet we have often been content with something less. Down through the centuries the church has parroted the prayer, "Thy kingdom come" not always sure of what we ask, sometimes confused on how it comes, or when it comes, or where it comes. We speak about our kingdom building, overhaul the church machinery, rewrite the constitution, initiate new programs, list statistical successes, chart the progress. When the outlook dims, we seek new ways to steady this strange structure we have built on sinking sand. The ark of God does not need human hands to steady it as Uzzah learned when he put up his hand against the ark to steady it as David sought to bring it to Jerusalem, and when the oxen stumbled and the cart began to tip.

Quotations from pop psychology, stories from the Reader’s Digest, advice for the lovelorn, (and, for shock therapy, a bit of Dr. Ruth) - these can only be the diet of a starved and starving church. We have the promise. Nothing less will do. "When the Son of man comes, will he find faith on the earth?" Or will he find behind the flurry of our busyness a valley of dry bones?

There will be a day - his day, his end. In fact, his day is now, for Christ is in our midst. He keeps company with sinners. He responds with grace to every penitent. He releases captives from the bondage of their Egypt. He takes us by the hand to usher us through those dark shadows into life eternal. In the Gospel of a love that suffered through the death of Calvary we have the promise that our Lord is with us now, and that his kingdom is at hand, and that he will appear again to rule in righteousness and purity forever. That’s the word we live on. That’s the message of our mission. That’s the love that kindles faith and keeps the fire burning. We have his promise.

CSS Publishing, Lima, Ohio,