The Widow Within
Luke 18:1-8
Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart. He said, “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Grant me justice against my accuser.’ For a while he refused, but later he said to himself, ‘Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.’ ” And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”
Sermon
The lectionary gives us this parable of Jesus today that’s sometimes called the “parable of the unjust judge.” This parable of Jesus is one of my favorites, and I’m sure you’ve heard me reference it a few times. Part of the reason I love this parable is because of its practicality and darkly funny portrayal of how the world works.
At face value, one of the biggest things that jumps off the page is the persistence of the widow. Keep poking, keep poking, keep poking. After all, this widow doesn’t have many other options. She doesn’t have a husband, and given that there’s no indication that she has a son, it’s reasonable to assume she doesn’t have one of those, either. So when someone accuses her of something—quite likely a man who accuses her of something—she’s in really bad trouble. As a woman, it’s not only that she was vulnerable and economically disadvantaged; it’s more than that. Her testimony was generally inadmissible in the Jewish legal system. She could tell everyone the facts until she was blue in the face. But the accuser’s word? The man’s word? Even an unrighteous man was deemed more trustworthy than a righteous woman.
What’s left? She can’t do much. She can’t say much. But the one thing she can do—even if it is small, even if it is foolish, even if it is useless—is to stick to her guns. She told the truth, again, and again, and again, at risk to herself. Jesus depicts this woman as foolishly faithful: doing what is right, what is truthful, what is just — again and again. Even if this unjust judge doesn’t believe she’s truthful, she still hopes that he will at least acquiesce to what’s right. She might hope that her dogged persistence will lead to the judge saying, “Alright. I give in. I’ll let go. Here’s your justice.”
In this story, prayers were answered—strangely, unsettlingly—due to acquiescence: to simply giving up and giving in to the intercession of someone’s prayer.
What if that was just as important to this text as the persistence? What if letting go of our rigidity, or giving into what is asked of us is just as important in this text? After all, this would be a very different story without the judge finally giving into the widow’s persistence.
“[The widow] told the truth, again, and again, and again, at risk to herself. Jesus depicts this woman as foolishly faithful: doing what is right, what is truthful, what is just — again and again. Even if this unjust judge doesn’t believe she’s truthful”
And oddly enough, this judge’s giving in and acquiescence isn’t necessarily a bad trait. If we flip back in our Bibles to the book of 1 Kings, we see that letting go and giving in can be an essential part of faith. In that book, the prophet Elijah reaches the very end of his rope. He has narrowly escaped from the jowls of evil, managing to flee the wicked Queen Jezebel and go into hiding. When Elijah reaches the shade of a tree after his escape, his predicament sets in. The anguish is simply too much, and he asks God if he can die. He ends up falling asleep. That’s when an angel appears, gently nudges Elijah awake, and gives him a command from God: “get up and eat.” Elijah gives in and acquiesces. This happens twice, and begins a new chapter in his life. He encounters God and starts concluding a dramatic life of prophecy.
Sometimes, letting go, giving in, and acquiescing to God is a waystation to hope. The Spirit is always yearning within us and persistently guiding our attention. When Elijah acquiesced to what God was speaking and asking of him, he entered into a new season that was rife with extraordinary ministry. When the unjust judge acquiesced to this widow, and simply gave in, her prayers were answered and the world turned right-side-up, if only for a moment.
We come to realize that just as we petition God as that widow, so too does the Spirit petition us, asking our unjust hearts to joyfully acquiesce to hope.
“Sometimes, letting go, giving in, and acquiescing to God is a way station to hope.”
It isn’t especially complicated to see how this can play out in our lives. 12-step programs like AA remind us that hitting rock bottom doesn’t have to be the end to a story. Sometimes, when we hit rock bottom, we find ourselves finally giving in to a journey we resisted for so long. When we hit rock bottom, we sometimes find ourselves acquiescing to that higher power who is beckoning us into wholeness.
There are other examples that all of us share. All of us have some sort of chore that we hate. It might be raking leaves, taking the trash out, cleaning the toilet, or preparing our house for winter — whatever it is, I would guess each of us has something in mind.
For me, it’s folding laundry. I’ll do laundry without too much trouble. But once the laundry makes its way into my bedroom, it’s dead upon arrival. I’ve noticed that sometimes when it’s been in the corner for a few days, I’ll even start going out of my way to avoid it.
You’d think that as good of a job I do at avoiding it, it stays out of sight and out of mind. But that’s not what happens. It pokes me. “Ugh, I need to fold those clothes.” Or “I’ll get to it tomorrow.” If I had folded the laundry, I’d be moving about my day without even noticing. But instead… poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. It feels like there’s a widow asking again and again, who refuses to go away until I open the door! Instead of fighting my laundry, and resisting this persistent poking, there’s pretty obviously a better option: just give in and do it. If I want my laundry folded and sorted in all the right drawers, all I need to do is let go, give in, and stop fighting those daily pokes.
“We come to realize that just as we petition God as that widow, so too does the Spirit petition us, asking our unjust hearts to joyfully acquiesce to hope.”
In the same way that each of us probably has that chore, I would wager that there’s something far deeper that keeps poking us. Or it’s someone that keeps poking.
Maybe it’s someone who wronged you, not in a superficial way, but they wronged you in a way you’ll never forget. Someone who you withhold forgiveness from.
Or maybe you think children or youth aren’t deepening their faith as much as you think they should. It keeps poking you, and poking you, and poking you, but you keep hoping others will do the work instead.
Maybe it’s those who used to spend time on the green—who still exist, and who are still around us, and who are still in need—but who now live in more dangerous circumstances. Concern about their wellbeing might keep poking you.
All that to say, if I had to guess, there’s something or someone that keeps poking you. And I hate to break it, but sometimes, that’s the Holy Spirit who is poking us.
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Sometimes we’re being poked because God is saying there’s a better way, and a life of forgiveness, love, and service that’s ahead of us. Give into grace. The Spirit might be pleading within us to be the hands and feet of Christ. Like God commanded Elijah to “get up and eat,” so too might the Spirit be commanding us. “Get up, give in to my abundant life. Go and love one another.” Whatever the case, when we are poked, we are asked to respond. That’s ultimately the rhythm of our faith.
So today, just as Jesus asks us to pray with the perseverance of the widow, I think the Spirit keeps asking and calling to us as that widow.
Will we acquiesce and give into those cries of the Spirit? When we discern who or what the Spirit refuses to let go, that’s when we can finally enter into new life. And without a doubt, the Spirit will keep on knocking, pleading, poking. The question is whether we’ll finally give in, acquiesce, bend our ear, and give her justice — not out of defeat, but in joyful love.
