May I be helped to speak in the name of the Living God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
Amen
When the first Christians heard the story of the widow and the judge, when they repeated it to each other, I imagine they normally focused on the widow. They would have paid particular attention to the widow, because they’d find it fairly easy to empathise with her, fairly easy to put themselves in her shoes. They knew what it felt like to feel powerless, defenceless. They could understand how she felt.
She doesn’t have any clout in the community; she doesn’t know anyone who can get her case onto the list of court hearings; she doesn’t have access to an advocate to represent her before the court. All she can do is go back, time and again, to hound the judge. She turns up regularly at the city gates where he holds court. She pursues him on the streets and in the shops and markets. The widow won’t let him rest until he hears her case properly, until he grants her the justice she craves.
I can imagine the exasperated judge finally giving in with the words: ‘Alright, alright, whatever you want. Just stop nagging me, for goodness sake.’
I imagine the widow was something of a role model for those first Christians. Her story taught them that they should not lose heart. Her dogged pursuit of justice against the odds, her perseverance, was worthwhile. Her dogged pursuit of the judge put them in mind of their own pursuit of God, of their conversation with God, of their own prayers. As Luke puts it, ‘pray always and don’t lose heart.’
She was a reminder to them that, just as she nagged the judge, so too they should nag God! They should never let up on reminding God they were there. They should pray always, not simply as a last resort; pray always, even when it seems pointless.
When Luke says ‘pray always and don’t lose heart,’ it’s clear that’s how he wants us to understand this story. The widow represents us, the judge represents God – or at least a very pale shadow of God.
But let me give you another angle on it; a different way of looking at things.
Just for a second, clear your mind of preconceptions, and suppose that Luke has got it all wrong. Suppose that everything is the other way round. Suppose that the widow isn’t us; instead she’s God. And the judge isn’t God, he’s us.
Try not to empathise with the widow, the supplicant, the pray-er. Instead put yourself in the shoes of the unjust judge. Now, it’s no longer a story about us nagging God, pleading with God to treat us justly. Instead it’s a story about God nagging us, God hassling us, God pleading with us. It’s not us asking justice of God, it’s God asking justice of us!
At first the judge is deaf to the woman’s pleas. She doesn’t have any clout; she doesn’t know anyone who can get in your way; she has no access to an advocate to represent her – she can only go straight to the judge. And, as there’s other recourse, it’s quite safe for him to ignore her. So here’s a question for us – do we ignore God like that? Are there times when we ignore that nagging voice of God that pricks our conscience? Be honest now!
Despite her treatment the widow comes back again and again. She so wants justice that she hounds the judge, she follows him around. He can’t get rid of her, she’s an incessant aggravation to him. Life’s too short for this, so regardless of her lack of power, the judge grants her request – not because he’s keen to deliver a just settlement in her case, but because it’s the only way out, it’s the only way he can stop that awful, embarrassing, nagging voice.
The widow wants justice, just as God wants justice. She can’t get it on her own – she needs the judge to deliver justice to her, just as God needs us to deliver the justice that he craves.
God wants justice, and he needs us to deliver it. We are his hands on this earth. So he nags us to work towards, to build a just and merciful world, to bring about his kingdom. God demands that his kingdom be built in the here and now, and he pleads with us to deliver it. Listen again – can’t you hear that voice, nagging away at your conscience?
It’s not how Luke meant the story, but perhaps my unusual take on it is a better interpretation for our age. Maybe we shouldn’t read this as a story about us nagging God to answer our prayers; but as a story of us being nagged by God to build his kingdom.
Luke said ‘pray always and don’t lose heart.’ Well – if you can see prayer as not simply a conversation with God going on in your head; if you can see prayer as the acting out of your faith, as the putting of faith into practice in your everyday life – then frankly the two readings of this story come up with exactly the same answer.
Pray always, work for God’s kingdom always, seek to bring to this world God’s justice, God’s mercy – and when it seems a hopeless task, don’t lose heart. Listen to that voice nagging away at you. God’s kingdom will come – but ours are the hands he would use to make it happen.
John Routh (Priest in Charge Holy Trinity)