Back in ancient times - before I came to Greenbelt - I worked at a seminary in Lancaster, PA. We rented a decrepit old row house across the street from the campus because it was cheap. The previous tenant was just moving out when we arrived and helpfully informed me of some of the building's quirks. He didn't happen to mention I shouldn't use the hook on the inside of the kitchen door. Since it was a coat hook I hung my coat on it. At some point the door was opened swinging my coat directly above a lit burner on the gas stove. That cost me a coat and a pot of spaghetti sauce. But at least I could fix that problem by removing the hook.
The previous tenant did tell me the front door lock was broken. When you closed the door it always locked. In the three years he'd lived there he'd carried a key with him at all times so as not to be locked out of the house. Sure enough, the door always locked. Bringing in multiple loads of groceries and having to fumble for the key each time was a pain. Worse, our then young kids wanted to come and go - and come and go and come and go as active kids will. One of us was forever jumping up to let in a boy desperate to refill his squirt gun or some such emergency. I knew how to remove a coat hook but nothing about locks so we put up with it.
We'd lived there for six months before I discovered two little brass buttons on the edge of the door. Having no idea what they were for I performed a scientific experiment. I pushed one of the buttons. The latch unlocked. Well, I'll be. The door wasn't broken. I took the previous tenant's word that it was and for six months never bothered to consider an alternative. The lock worked fine. It was my brain that was stuck D'oh! Things are not always as we're told they are.
Which brings me to the parable of the widow and the unrighteous judge. It's the only parable where we're told the point of the story before we're told the story. It's about prayer. We ought always to pray and not lose heart. Now, that's a nice, safe religious subject. Or maybe not. Some people are outraged that spoken prayer over a public address system is no longer allowed in schools and at certain secular public events such as football games. I'm not outraged. If spoken prayer causes a sister or brother distress I'd rather not have it. I can always pray privately in a way that no one but God will ever notice. "You must not be like the hypocrites . . . But when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you." (Matthew 6:5-6) Whatever the Constitution of the United States has to say on the matter, that was Jesus' instruction. I might add if your prayer is for Washington to beat the point spread, your prayer life might not be your most pressing spiritual issue.
Jesus doesn't say this parable is about prayer. It's an editorial comment by the author of the Gospel of Luke who then goes on to quote Jesus. The parable Jesus told involves only two characters but they are loaded with symbolism. There is the judge who is male. In those days that alone gave him significantly more power than half the population which was female. The judge "neither feared God nor regarded man." The greatest commandment is to love God with everything we've got and to love our neighbors as ourselves. The judge did neither.
The second character is a widow. As a woman she had few rights and little power. Without a husband she would have depended on family members for the basics of food and shelter. If family members didn't provide for her she would have been reduced to begging. Widows were among the most vulnerable in society along with children, lepers, and people with any sort of disability. The judge occupied a high religious office and utterly failed to live his faith. We aren't told anything about the widow's religion; whether or not she was devout, faithful, or moral. Apparently that wasn't important. All we know is she got some sort of raw deal, demanded justice, and had no power.
This story may be about prayer. At the end of the story Jesus draws a different conclusion. The judge cares nothing for God or the needs of other people. He is the opposite of God's justice and compassion for the oppressed. If even such an arrogant stinker will eventually do right for the widow, then how can one doubt that God will defend the vulnerable.? How much more will God vindicate the "least of these" against those who inflict hardship upon them or fail to do what is in their power to ease the plight of those who suffer? Our just God does not protect the property interests of the privileged but is compas-sionate and looks out for those who have no power. Our just God tips the scales from the powerful toward the powerless.
Once God's priorities are clearly stated, then the call to pray and not lose heart takes on a different tone. In the words of a great old hymn, "Christian, rise and act your creed, let your prayer be in your deed. . ." I do believe we are witnesses to that. Last Sunday Terry Henderson in her greeting warned us the Spirit is working here and anyone who hangs around very long is likely to get caught up in it. Then Marsha Voigt brought to our attention the plight of 15 homeless men who have no place to stay for Christmas week, December 19th to the 26th. Then you voted overwhelmingly you turn our education building into a homeless shelter for that week. Then a great many hands went up volunteering to spend at least part of a night here during that week so those homeless men will feel safe. Do you think Terry was right about the Spirit? When that bit of congregational business concluded I wish I'd thought to stand up and say simply, "Amen." The willingness to open a building, hearts, and lives to 15 homeless strangers over Christmas gave me a lump in the throat - which Spirit led prayer can do.
No doubt as a community we will pray like that again and again as we have in the past. One message is aimed at those of us who, like the judge, have the wherewithal and power to tip the balance in favor of the poor, powerless, and vulnerable of the world. Listen up. When we do, we pray our Lord's prayer in deeds as well as words. When we don't do what we can, when we intentionally or unwittingly support systems and customs which perpetuate oppression, abuse, or neglect may the Lord have mercy.
It is also possible to hear this story from the standpoint of the widow. How long, oh Lord, do we have to keep knocking on the doors of power? My great-great grandmother was a conductor on the Underground Railroad. In my lifetime legal segregation has come to an end and a great many locked doors have been at least partly opened to people of color in this country. My daughter-in-law, who is young, healthy, and African American, does not expect to live long enough to see the end of racism in America. I wonder about my grandchildren. How long, oh Lord?
It was never legal for my great-great grandmother to vote. At the university I attended freshmen women were allowed to major in Education or Nursing. They were offered no other choices. A lot has changed since then, and women still are paid substantially less than men for the same work. How long, oh Lord?
A hundred years ago it wasn't unusual for rural families with more children than they could support to drop one or two down an abandoned well with no one the wiser. Child labor laws ended the worst industrial abuses. Recently the Mt. Oliver Pickle Company recognized a union and agreed to a contract which grants farm workers - many scarcely out of childhood - one half day off a week. It's called the "Freedom to Worship" clause. I've held the hand of a woman in another state as she decided to call Social Services to protect her own grandchildren. That's a tough call to make. It's all the tougher when you know it won't make any difference. Child protective services are so under-funded and under-staffed they can only respond to cases where there's blood on the floor. It hasn't gotten that violent for this woman's grandchildren. Not yet. We've figured out ways to pay for fabulous sports, entertainment and theme parks, but we can't find the money to protect vulnerable children.
Now and then we who are relatively privileged and powerful find ourselves to be among the vulnerable. Wealth and status do not protect us from physical and mental illness, failed relationships, anxiety, loss, and grief. In our own times of suffering we may also cry, "How long, oh Lord?"
The assurance that God will establish justice for the least of God's children is a double-edged sword. When we are in positions to make a difference it calls us to listen up, act now, and overturn the false priorities of the world while there's still time. When we suffer with the least or in our own lives it speaks a word of hope. God hears. God will act. Don't give up. Either way and probably in both ways this parable speaks to us today. Amen.
Amen.