Sermon for Pentecost +21
Jesus said to his disciples, "Pray always and never lose heart." And he illustrated the point for them, as he so often illustrated points, by telling them a parable.
So far, so good. We get the set-up of the story in our passage from Luke's gospel today. But as the story unfolds, as we really look at the parable Jesus tells, it looks less and less like a good example of the way to conduct one's prayer life. Taken at face value, the parable does not give us a very flattering portrayal of the way God responds to prayer--or, for that matter, of the way we ourselves are inclined to pray.
Jesus says, "In a certain city there was a judge"--well, a judge in name, at least. This "judge," we are told, does not have any fear for God or any respect for people. This "judge" does not care at all about building up right relationships, which is the root concept of justice in the biblical tradition. This "judge" might be legally, externally empowered to decide cases or pronounce punishments; but he certainly does not seem to be inwardly capable of interpreting and representing God's mishpat, God's judgment, God's righteous will, for God's faithful people. This judge, we are told, is in fact a contradiction in terms, a walking oxymoron: he's an unrighteous decider of what is right, he's an untrustworthy trustee of God's truth, he is an unjust judge.
So the first character in Jesus' parable about prayer is hardly someone we would want to associate ourselves with. Is the second character any better?
Jesus continues the story: "In that city there was a widow who kept coming to the judge and saying, 'Grant me justice against my opponent.'"
At first it seems like we're on less shaky ground here: widows are usually sympathetic characters in the Gospels, especially in Luke, since Luke's Gospel is especially concerned for the poor and the marginalized, such as older women left to fend for themselves in a patriarchal society. We might expect this widow to be a sympathetic character. But the text soon gives us some signals that this widow might not be so charming, either.
She comes to the judge saying, "Grant me justice against my opponent." Now the word used for "justice" here in the original Greek of the story is not the typical word for justice--dike--but a variation of that word that implies a kind of edginess or a sense of retribution. It's kind of like the difference in English between the words "judgment" and "judgmental": it's a good thing to be able to make good judgments; but to be judgmental has a really nasty edge to it. The word for what the widow wants could be translated "justice"; but it could also be translated "vindication" or even "vengeance." So the story sort of leaves the question hanging whether the widow is seeking justice, right relationships, or whether what she really wants is to get her own back against someone she perceives as being against her. There is here more than a hint of a possibility that this widow is not so much fair-minded as she is vindictive.
She is also persistent. She keeps coming to the judge--not just once, not just twice, but the verb tense in the Greek indicates a continuing action, something that happens and keeps on happening. In a word: she pesters him. The judge is afraid she will exhaust him, use him up, by her continual coming--and though the judge has no fear for God and no respect for people, we have no reason to suspect that he would exaggerate his description of the widow: she is just plain bothersome. The picture we begin to get of this widow is of a vindictive old woman who is accustomed to badgering people who get in her way until she gets what she wants.
So on the whole the parable is not a very pleasant picture: a cynical and self-serving magistrate, holding at arm's length a vindictive and pestering widow, until her nagging finally wears him down and he judges in her favor (whether it's the correct judgment or not) just to get her off his back.
And this, Jesus says, is what it is like to pray to God.
It's hardly surprising if our immediate reaction to that interpretation of the parable is, What? God is like a corrupt and uncaring public official? We are like vindictive badgering pains in the neck? Praying is like pestering God until God gives us what we want just to get rid of us? What? The whole picture seems patently absurd. Which of course is what tips us off to the fact that there is something deeper going on here.
We are pointed to that "something deeper" by recognizing the rhetorical device, the figure of speech, that Jesus is using here. Ancient rhetoric, ancient verbal teaching, was full of devices and techniques that were meant to help the speaker get the point across, and Jesus used those techniques freely in his teaching. It helps us to understand Jesus' teaching if we understand the techniques he used. This particular technique is called "arguing from the lesser to the greater," and it basically consists in saying "If X happens even under the worst circumstances, then it will be even more likely to happen under the best circumstances." So in this parable Jesus is saying: If even an unjust judge will grant judgment for a vindictive pest, then how much more will the true and righteous God grant justice, right relationships, to faithful people who pray for them day and night?
And that's the key to it: Praying always, crying out day and night, for right relationships. In this gospel Jesus calls his disciples--Jesus calls us--to reach out to God and in the power of God to reach out to the world to build up right relationship. Right relationship in society, which is justice. Right relationship for mutual well-being, which is peace. Right relationship among each other, which is compassion and love. Right relationship within ourselves, between our ideals and our actions, which is righteousness. Right relationship with our time and talent and treasure, which is stewardship. Right relationship with God, which is communion. Jesus calls us to pray always for these things. And the beauty of it is that praying for right relationships is itself the first step in making right relationships. Here the praying and the doing are not two separate things, but are two complementary movements of one single spiritual activity. To pray is, in essence, to open ourselves up to the indwelling of God's Spirit; and the indwelling of God's Spirit is the essence of right relationship with God; and right relationship in the Spirit is what empowers and impels us to create right relationships with everything else. That's why Jesus says God is quick to grant justice to those who pray: because praying for right relationship is itself the first movement of right relationship. And because God is quick to empower us for right relationship, therefore, Jesus says, we can pray always and never lose heart.
You see: It all comes together. Even though the parable itself may seem strangely unpleasant, the whole package, the whole meaning, comes together as a call and a promise about the power of prayer for right relationship. And we are here today to answer that call and to share in that power. As we today join in praying this Eucharist, we are also being formed in God's justice, we are also being prepared and empowered to be sent out to share that justice in communion with all creation.
That is our Good News today; let that be our mission every day. Amen.

