First Hope

Luke 18:1-8

April 29, 2018 • Mount Pleasant UMC

This weekend, one of the big blockbuster films of the summer opened to massive crowds. Avengers: Infinity War is expected to bring in at least $215 million this weekend alone, and possibly end up domestically somewhere around the $600 million mark—or more. It is the nineteenth film in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, a 10-year-old film franchise that shows no signs of slowing down, and it is packed with Hollywood star power. I’m going to see it this afternoon with our LifeGroup, so you know the sermon will not run long today! But every time one of these movies come out, reviewers and financial experts alike keep asking the question, “Why do people flock to superhero movies? What is the big deal? What’s the draw?” I think the answer is not as simple as those folks would like it to be. For some, superhero movies are about nostalgia; those who grew up reading Marvel and DC comic books love to see their heroes come to life on the big screen. For others, though, I think there’s a deeper, maybe even a subconscious, reason why these movies have appeal, and that is tied to the world we live in. When we look around and see things so divided, so bleak, so difficult, there is a longing inside of us to escape to a world, a universe, where things work out in the end and where justice is done—even if it’s just for a couple of hours. If I may jump from one brand to another, that’s, I think, one reason why Superman continues to inspire people, because he stands for “truth, justice and the American way.”

A longing for justice seems built into us, and we especially long for it in a world that seems to unjust. As people of faith, we recognize that longing to be God-given. In fact, if you’ve been participating in our prayer experiment during this series, you’ve been praying for justice to become a reality. When we pray, “Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” we are praying for God’s authority and God’s justice to be lived out here as it already is in eternity. But sometimes we get tired of praying for such things. Sometimes we wonder if God is ever going to answer. Jesus knew that, and that’s why, Luke says, he told a parable about a widow, a judge, and a cry for justice.

Let’s first get to know the people in Jesus’ story. The first person introduced is a judge, but not a black-robed, gavel-wielding authority. This would have been a local magistrate, given just enough authority by Rome to decide minor cases in the local community. Now, in the Old Testament law, judges were supposed to have two primary qualities. First of all, they were to fear God. This does not mean they were to be afraid of God, though the law did remind judges that God would ultimately judge them. The earthly judge was to have a respect of God, an understanding of what their actual position was, that they are not the final authority. The second characteristic was to have a deep respect and a concern for humanity, especially for the oppressed and the downtrodden of which this widow was one (we’ll come back to that idea in a moment). But, Jesus says, this judge “neither feared God nor cared what people thought” (18:2). So this man is not qualified to be a judge, nor should we expect to get any semblance of justice from him (Card, Luke: The Gospel of Amazement, pg. 202; Green, NICNT: The Gospel of Luke, pg. 639; Keener, ed., Bible Background Commentary: New Testament, pg. 238).

The next person Jesus tells us about is the widow. Though Jesus doesn’t give any of these characters names in his parable, he undoubtedly had known similar people as he lived and worked in Galilee. The Hebrew word for “widow” literally means “silent one” or “one unable to speak” (Pilch, The Cultural World of Jesus, Cycle C, pg. 152). That’s appropriate in that culture, because a woman without a husband had little to no voice in society. Widows were not considered in the Hebrew inheritance laws, which means that when her husband died, all of her possessions would have passed to her sons. Widows were among the most oppressed and marginalized people in that ancient culture, so when she talks about having an adversary, it could be most anyone. It might even be one of her sons, refusing to take care of her or provide for her; we don’t think about that, but it’s very possible. Jesus doesn’t fill in the details, but the fact that this woman is coming to the judge on her own, with no family member to advocate for her, tells us either she has no family or they are against her. She comes to the judge, day after day after day, begging, “Grant me justice against my adversary” (18:3).

There’s another piece to this story that we might miss. Such cases did not take place away from the public eye in a courtroom somewhere. This is not a private audience between the widow and the judge. Cases like this were handled in public. Long before “The People’s Court” or “Judge Judy,” first century small-claims court, such as this would have been, were done in a place where a crowd could and would gather. If this is a small town, this might be the best entertainment they could get! First-century law courts in Israel were not so much about case law or precedent or even what we know as “justice” as they were about honor and shame. And that plays into why the judge eventually grants her request. For a long time, he refuses. I picture him walking away from her from time to time, and rolling his eyes when he sees her coming. But eventually, Jesus says, he does agree to her request (whatever that was). But did you notice why? It’s not just because she keeps coming back to him. Jesus has already told us he doesn’t care what she or anyone else thinks of him. But he is concerned about himself and his own safety. Look again at what he says in verse 5: “I will see that she gets justice, so that she wont eventually come and attack me!” We don’t get it, but Jesus is telling a joke here, because he borrows language from the boxing ring. He’s drawing a picture of this almighty, uncaring, unjust and macho judge being beaten up by someone who is the least powerful in society. Literally translated, he says, “I’m afraid she might come and give me a black eye!” It’s a word that was used to describe what happens when you publicly shame a person; today, this widow would be accused of bullying, because that’s what she’s doing to the judge! So he gives her what she asks for because he’s afraid of her. He gives her what she asks for because he doesn’t want to be embarrassed in front of the community (cf. Pilch 53; Green 641).

Well, this is a charming and somewhat amusing story, but why does Jesus tell it when he has so little time left? In the Gospel of Luke, this story is told near the end of his life; there are only five parables left in Luke after this one. Now, parables are not meant to be allegories; in fact, to read them that way is to misread them. An allegory is story that has one-to-one comparisons; in other words, “this” represents “that.” In an allegory, everything stands for something else. A parable is a story told to make a single point; the story is the thing, not the individual parts of it. Luke tells us what the point of this parable is up front: “to show them [the disciples, and us as well] that they should always pray and not give up” (18:1). So this is a parable about prayer, and persistent prayer to be specific. But we must not mistake the widow for us or the judge for God (that would be looking at is as an allegory). God is clearly not the unjust judge, for the persistent witness of Scripture is that God is always just and will always do the right thing. He is concerned with widows and orphans; he does not ignore their plight. Jesus is actually making a bigger point here, a “how much more” point. He says if an unjust judge can find it within himself somehow to grant justice, “how much more” will God give justice? “How much more” will God do what is right, since God is just? Jesus tells this parable so that we will have undying confidence in the God of all the universe (cf. Card 203; Wright, Luke for Everyone, pg. 213).

But what is meant by persistence in prayer? When we began this series of sermons, I reminded you of what Jesus said about the uselessness of babbling on and on, using many words. Jesus says people who think they will be heard because they go on and on are mistaken (cf. Matthew 6:7-8). Prayer is not about wearing God down so that he finally gets tired and just gives us whatever we want. When our kids were little, I’ll admit that there were times I just gave in because I got tired of them asking and asking and asking. Kids learn pretty quickly that they can do that, but that’s not the way prayer works because prayer isn’t about getting things. It’s not about demanding our way or getting what we want. Prayer is about building relationship; I hope you’ve heard that loud and clear throughout this series. Prayer is about a relationship with our good God who wants good things for us. Prayer is about shaping us, not forcing God into a corner. That’s why, though I believe in sharing our burdens and asking others to pray for us and with us, I’m always more than a little bit uncomfortable when I hear people saying things like, “If I can just get a bunch of people to pray for this, God will have to do it.” No, God doesn’t. Unlike the judge in the parable, God is not bound by honor and shame rules. Prayer is not about wearing God down; it’s about persistently staying in relationship with the God who loves us and wants so much better for us than we can imagine.

That’s why Jesus told this parable when he did. In just a chapter and a half, he will be entering Jerusalem on what we call Palm Sunday. A few days after that, he will be hanging on a cross. The disciples are about to face some very difficult days, some times when it would be easy to lose hope and to give up on God. When everything you’ve thought you could count on is suddenly taken away from you, hope is a hard thing to find. So Jesus tells this parable, Luke says, so that they will keep praying and not give up. Other translations say not to “lose heart” or not to “faint.” The word Luke uses can also mean to not “be weary,” but however you translate it, it means the opposite of faith. It’s faithlessness, living in such a way that you have no relationship with God. It is to live without hope. Jesus says prayer is the only thing that will maintain that relationship. It is the only thing that will fill us up with hope. It is the antidote to faithlessness. It is a necessity for followers of Jesus (cf. Green 638).

So what do you pray persistently for? I’m going to let you in on a secret, or maybe it’s not that much of a secret: I struggle with prayer. Part of my reason for preaching this sermon series is because my prayer life is not where I want it to be. I’m willing to guess that’s true for a lot of us. I go in fits and starts. There are times where I have a wonderfully rich prayer life, and then I get distracted and prayer becomes a challenge. I know, in my head and my heart, that what James says is true: “The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective” (James 5:16). But that does’t make it easy. I want to pray consistently and persistently without being that person Jesus talks about who just babbles on about stuff they want. So I find myself going back to the Scriptures and asking what it is that the Bible calls us to and challenges us to pray for persistently. What are the things I can pray about that will strengthen my relationship with my heavenly Father?

There are, of course, many prayers in the Bible, but I want to focus on three this morning before we engage in a particular prayer exercise. First of all, in the New Testament, Paul prays often for followers of Jesus to be sanctified. Now, that’s a good Methodist word, a good church word, that most people don’t understand anymore. In fact, sometimes we talk as if there isn’t anything beyond “just having faith in Jesus,” but in our tradition, we understand that the whole point of salvation or following Jesus is so that we can become more like him. Becoming more and more like Jesus in character and nature is the essence of sanctification, and as Paul says, “It is God’s will that you should be sanctified” (1 Thessalonians 4:3). It’s what God wants for us. John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, talked about it as “Christian perfection,” not perfection in action, but perfection in love. He understood sanctification to be that place where we come to know Jesus so well that our natural inclination is to love others the way Jesus did and does. I’ve known a few people in my life who, to me, show evidence of that kind of love, and every time they were people who had walked with Jesus for a long time. One was my high school Sunday School teacher, Esther Beard, who rarely stuck with her lesson but instead spent many Sundays “just” telling us how much Jesus loved us. And on Christmas Day, she would take time from her family to call each and every one of us just to remind us that Jesus loved us. Esther is one who experienced, I believe, what Paul prayed for all of us and what we should persistently pray for ourselves and each other: “May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Thessalonians 5:23).

Another persistent prayer we should be praying is found in another letter Paul wrote, this one to his young friend and protege Timothy. Paul wrote, "I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people—for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness” (1 Timothy 2:1-2). Remember that this was written in the middle of the Roman Empire, at a time when persecution of Christians was beginning to ramp up, at a time when Christianity was not an “approved” religion of the Empire. Paul urges us to pray even for leaders that oppose us, leaders who may not have our best interests in mind, as well as leaders we might agree with. There is no qualification on persistent prayer only for “leaders we like.” Pray for kings, rulers, authorities, senators, representatives, presidents, and all sorts of rulers, including mayors, city council members, school board members and so on. That might even include pastors, because we need it! Persistent prayer should include praying for those in authority, praying that they would do justice, practice righteousness and pursue agendas that lead to good ends. Do you regularly pray for those in leadership? Paul says in another letter that they are in those positions because God has allowed it (cf. Romans 13:1). They have heavy responsibilities, and need our persistent prayer.

The third persistent prayer I want to lift up comes out of our tradition. Many don’t realize that Methodism didn’t start as a denomination or even as a church. John Wesley was preaching a warm-hearted experience of coming to know Jesus, and the churches of his time were not very accepting of his message. In many churches, he was asked not to come back after he preached. So he began to gather people in small groups, not to replace the church but to revive it. Methodism began as a revival movement; it was only after Wesley’s death that we somehow settled into status quo as a church. But it is, or should be, part of our DNA to persistently pray that the church—big C church—is revived and renewed in each and every generation, that we never become complacent or satisfied with “what is” and instead always be dreaming about “what could be.” This was the kind of prayer that marked the early Methodists in their small groups; J. D. Walt says they could pray that way because they had “outrageous optimism.” They beat on the doors of heaven, asking God to bring revival, to renew the church, to give us a new passion for people who need to know Jesus. And that’s how Methodism grew in its earliest days, at one point being able to boast that we were starting two churches a day. They were a people filled with hope, overflowing with “outrageous optimism” for the future of our world.

In the midst of the current debates and arguments over issues of human sexuality and Biblical authority taking place in our denomination, we need more than ever to be people who are filled with hope, who are defined by outrageous optimism, who are persistently praying that Jesus would revive his people and renew his church. I think this is what Jesus was wondering about when he asked the question at the end of today’s passage: “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?” (18:8). Will there be people of hope, people who are still praying and dreaming and hoping and believing? Will he find faith on the earth? Our founder, John Wesley, echoed that sentiment when he wrote, near the end of his life, “I am not afraid that the people called Methodists should ever cease to exist either in Europe or America. But I am afraid lest they should only exist as a dead sect, having the form of religion without the power. And this undoubtedly will be the case unless they hold fast both the doctrine, spirit, and discipline with which they first set out” (“Thoughts Upon Methodism,” Jackson, ed., The Works of John Wesley, vol. XIII, pg. 258). In that same writing, he goes on to talk about the “spirit” that sparked the first Methodists: the “renewal of the soul” which can only happen by the power of the Holy Spirit. That is, then, what we must persistently pray for, not only for our church, but for all the churches in the Wabash Valley, and in Indiana, and around the world. We pray for revival, for the church to be renewed and for the world to be transformed with hope.

So even just those three things make up a huge task, and if you’re like me, you might begin to feel a bit overwhelmed. Relax, it’s a bit like the question, “How do you eat an elephant?” One bite at a time. The same thing here. We won’t change the world tomorrow, and changing the world isn’t our calling anyway. Our calling is to pray, persistently pray, not so we wear God down but so that we will be changed, so that we will become more like Jesus—and when that happens, the world will be changed. This morning, we’re going to close this service and this series differently than we usually do. I know that in these four weeks we have not covered everything about prayer or even probably answered all of your questions about prayer. But, as Pastor Rick reminded us a couple of weeks ago, sometimes we just have to do it. If we put off praying until we understand it, we’ll never pray. So, as we wrap all this up this morning, we’re going to pray, but not like we normally do. I want to invite you to engage in a prayer exercise that might be a bit different than you’re used to. It’s okay; this is a safe place, which is why it’s a good chance to try something a little different.