Lk 18:1-8
21 October 2001
"Don't Lose Heart"
Once again, Luke has done it. Once again, we have a strange parable, one that seemingly presents Jesus with a bizarre sense of humor. Once again, we're given an extreme example of God's dealings with the human race.
With the parable of the unjust judge, once again, we're treated to a story of doing things for the wrong reasons, of selfishness, of behaving badly. And yet, it's all about God. Or better yet, maybe it's about Jesus understanding his audience. He's aware of the distorted picture people have of reality; as John puts it, Jesus "knew what was in everyone" (Jn 2:25).
And once again, no doubt due to the likelihood of misinterpreting Jesus' words, Luke adds his own two cent's worth. He introduces the story in verse 1 by saying that "Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart." To know who "them" refers to, we have to go back to 17:20, 22, where we see that Jesus is talking to both Pharisees and disciples.
It seems that more attention has been paid to the first part of Luke's explanation, that Jesus is talking about the "need to pray always." The idea goes something like this: if the unjust judge can be hounded into providing justice for the defenseless widow, how much more will "God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night?" (v. 7).
That would seem to be a reasonable way to look at it, if the idea is to use exaggeration to make a point. However, the second part of Luke's explanation, that Jesus is saying "not to lose heart," is a little more difficult to pin down. Certainly, it means to not get discouraged in praying—to never give up. But it seems to me that not losing heart deals with more than that. It deals with the very core of our being.
Again, it seems to me (and I don't think I'm alone) that "heart" speaks to what is of the utmost importance to us. This would seem to fit the picture of a widow desperately wanting her case to be heard. Remember, in that society, widows had few rights, especially if they had no living male relative to speak for them. And if the legal system itself is corrupt, as in the parable, then the aggrieved widow has no recourse. Only her persistence gets her a hearing.
"Heart" also speaks of that which we feel deeply, that which stirs our souls. In our parable, the widow is described as seeking justice. We don't know the nature of her complaint, but for her, it's certainly urgent. Over and over, she begs the judge, "Grant me justice against my opponent" (v. 3).
But when we think about justice, we may feel that something is missing. The leveling of the playing field—the blindfolded woman holding the scales—in a way, it can be unsatisfying. Justice isn't really something we can sink our teeth into. Sometimes it just isn't enough: we want revenge!
Vengeance. Now that's fun! Sweet revenge—getting payback—so often, that's what stirs us; that's our heart's desire. And it's not surprising, because there's a thin line between justice and revenge. It's often hard to tell the difference between the two.
That's reflected in our scripture reading. In verse 3, when the widow is portrayed as calling for "justice against [her] opponent," the word for "justice" is Ekdikhson (ekdikēson). It comes from the verb ekdikew (ekdikeō), which means "to grant justice." But it can also have the sense of "to avenge" or even “to punish.” To put the hurt on somebody! The NRSV, and most translations, reflect the meaning of “justice,” but a few versions do go the other way.
And again, this quirky parable, with its offbeat sense of humor, seems to work all that into the mix. The judge who, as he admits to himself, has “no fear of God and no respect of anyone,” decides that he’ll “grant [the widow] justice” (ekdikhsw, ekdikēsō, v. 4). Of course, his motives aren’t exactly noble: he just wants to get rid of her! He fears that she will “wear [him] out by continually coming” to him (v. 5).
In saying this, Luke uses a term from the sport of boxing. It means to punch someone in the face (upwpiazh, hupōpiazē), literally below the eyes. In essence, the judge is thinking, “If I don’t put the hurt on her adversary, she’ll put the hurt on me! I'm looking at a black eye!" Anyone picturing the image of a (presumably) little old lady doing an Evander Holyfield imitation on the judge would have to conclude that some level of comedy is intended!
The word for "justice / revenge" that's used for the judge is also used for God in verses 7 and 8. Jesus says that not only will "God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night," but God "will quickly grant justice to them." Does that mean that God and the unjust judge use the same methods? Does it mean that God gets as confused about justice and revenge as we do?
Probably not! Over and over in the scriptures, we're told "to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with [our] God" (Mi 6:8). Paul tells us, "Beloved, never avenge yourselves…for it is written, 'Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord'" (Ro 12:19). The extreme example Jesus gives should only amplify the difference between justice and revenge.
Mark Harris, an Episcopal priest and executive director of the Global Episcopal Mission Network, offers these thoughts on today's reading: "We lose heart when we believe that no one cares for us, that no one is on our side taking our needs to heart or loving us for who we are and what we have experienced. We lose heart when we feel like we are alone."[1]
We seek vengeance because it feels satisfying; it seems to give our hearts what they crave. But we really have no clue what's best for us; only God knows. As I indicated earlier, justice alone can seem…empty. Our efforts will always fall short. But the justice God gives is different. It is intimately interwoven with the peace of God—God's shalom, God's salaam.
The justice of God is much more satisfying than anything our petty desires for revenge can provide. When we choose the path of vengeance, we may have fun for a little while, but nothing gets solved. You hurt me, so I hurt you. Of course, in no time, you, or a friend of yours, will decide to hurt me back. I will then be required to find a friend and hurt you and your buddies, and so on, and so on—in a never-ending cycle of violence.
Those who live for God's justice can expect to be mocked and ridiculed, or worse. They may even be ignored—considered irrelevant. Jeremiah, the source of our Old Testament reading, knows all about that. As I've mentioned in recent weeks, he’s considered a traitor for daring to suggest that the justice of God and the justice of his nation aren't the same thing—that they are in fact contrary to each other.
Jeremiah envisions something much greater than what the people of his country envision. He looks for the day when God's law, God's word, will be written on the hearts of the people. They won't need to "teach one another…'Know the Lord,' for they shall all know [God]" (Jr 31:34). That's something that truly satisfies the heart.
One of the most valuable bits of wisdom from Jeremiah, and indeed all of scripture, is that we become what we worship. And just like Jeremiah and Jesus, we’re compelled to take that wisdom from the realm of the abstract and apply it to the real-life situations of our world. In every generation, in every nation, every one of us must decide whether to worship the God of justice or the God of vengeance. We make that choice in our interpersonal relations and in our international relations.
Jesus knows how reluctant his hearers are to believe him. No doubt, that’s what prompts the question at the end of the passage: “when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” (v. 8b). He knows that people don’t really trust the kind of justice that he’s all about. People trust the kind of justice that’s indistinguishable from revenge.
That kind of justice may solve some problems, but it does so at a cost—it creates new problems. It creates new enemies. The kind of justice that Jesus is all about is no shortcut. It’s not about avoiding problems or avoiding enemies. But it is the surest way to approach them. And the good thing is that, unlike the widow in the parable, we don’t have to threaten God with a black eye!
Jesus says to us, “Don’t lose heart.”