Jesus said, “There was a judge in a certain town who neither feared God nor respected any human being. And a widow in that town used to come to him and say, ‘Render a just decision for me against my adversary.’ For a long time the judge was unwilling, but eventually he thought, ‘While it is true that I neither fear God nor respect any human being, because this widow keeps bothering me I shall deliver a just decision for her lest she finally come and strike me.’” (Luke 18.2-5)
At this point in our study of Luke’s gospel, we should be familiar with his portrayal of Rabbi Jesus’ fondness for doublets or pairs, generally presented as contrasts in the parables or in the examples cited by the Galilean Teacher. Recall, if you will, the narrow door and the wide door; the place of honor at table and the lowest place; the invited guests at the wedding banquet and the uninvited guests; the elder son and the younger son; the rich man and the poor man; the ungrateful lepers and the grateful leper.
More of the same awaits us as the journey to Jerusalem continues in the weeks ahead: the Pharisee and the publican; payment to Caesar and payment to God; the widow’s mite and the surplus wealth of the rich; the repentant thief and the unrepentant thief. So, it should come as no surprise that we find ourselves staring at another pair of contrasts in the parable that we hear Rabbi Jesus tell today.
In this story, the polar opposites are a judge and a widow, their differences spelled out in exquisite detail. The judge is described as dishonest, “neither fearing God nor respecting any human being,” while the strong-willed widow, for her part, seeks justice and stays true in her pursuit, neither whimsical nor wavering. One–the judge–is powerful, while the other–the widow–is powerless.
Again, the fact that widows receive special attention or favor from Rabbi Jesus also is a consistent theme in the Lucan text. The raising of the son of the widow of Nain is told in the early part of this gospel; the praise of the widow who gives all she has to the temple treasury is told near the end of the gospel. And here, inserted between the two, is another widow, again without anything, powerless, dependent on the charity or the goodwill of others.
With no safety network in a patriarchal society, widows of that time found themselves without resources and without remedy. And if they were without grown children, their plight was even greater. As a result, they appear regularly in the pages of Scripture–the Hebrew and the Christian texts alike–as symbols of poverty, vulnerability, and dependency.
That Rabbi Jesus gave attention to widows should come as no surprise then, his actions always attentive and responsive to the cries of the poor, the persecuted, and the powerless. He favors them because God favors them, a vivid reminder that these “little ones,” while overlooked by the high and mighty of this world, are not overlooked by the Most High God, who sees them and seeks their redress.
Hence, the Hebrew scriptures state unequivocally that God has a special affection for them and requires that his people show responsibility for and provide relief to them. Already in the Pentateuch, Moses tells the Hebrew slaves that the Lord God “defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow and loves the foreigner” (Deut 10.18).
And in the next breath, Moses draws a link between these oppressed and suppressed people, reminding the Hebrews that they must love these others because they themselves were once “others” in Egypt, a reminder for future generations that justice and charity were to be shown to the “little ones” just as God had shown justice and charity to the Hebrews slaves, a “nobody” people chosen by God and made “somebody.”
So, when Rabbi Jesus speaks of a widow, as he does today, all of this background comes to the foreground, his story recalling to mind the attentiveness and kindness that the Lord God shows to the widow, the orphan, and the foreigner, the “little ones” ignored by the big ones, but held close to the heart of the Almighty.
It is an important reminder, particularly for Luke, who is writing his words for a people who find themselves in the same position as these “little ones,” on one hand subjugated and subjected to ridicule by the Romans, on the other hand persecuted and executed by the Jews. Luke wants these early followers of the Crucified Galilean to see themselves as the widow in this story, one who persists against all odds, someone who refuses to give up.
Luke’s intention is made clear in an episode that precedes the telling of this story in which the Pharisees ask Rabbi Jesus when the kingdom of God that he preaches will come, a kingdom that the Rabbi’s early followers continue to anticipate and desire to participate in, a kingdom that seems sluggish and slow in coming, opening his believers to ridicule from the outside and doubts from inside themselves.
Of the belief that the Risen Lord would return shortly to reclaim the world, the early followers find themselves losing faith, years passing without his return, leaving them looking foolish and feeling forsaken. With exterior threats and interior doubts, they are ready to abandon ship, deciding their expectations were in vain.
Interestingly, there are only two times in Luke’s gospel that the evangelist expressly tells his readers the purpose of a parable. This is one of those instances, the evangelist prefacing the parable with these words, “Jesus spoke a parable to them that they must always pray and not give up.” In other words, the parable is a call to early believers to stay the course, or as the British are quick to say, “Carry on.”
They must be like the widow who is unrelenting and unapologetic in her efforts to find justice from the dishonest judge, refusing to capitulate, not allowing themselves to capsize on the rough waters of the times that threaten their lives and their beliefs. Their faith, although tested, must not falter; and their commitment, even if challenged, must not change.
Rabbi Jesus reiterates the purpose of the parable at the end when he says to his listeners, “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” That question stands, not only as the coda to the parable, but also as the continuing challenge to Christian believers who find themselves in the shoes of the widow, beleaguered and belittled. Will they be like her with faith undiminished and conviction undeterred? It is a question that remains to be answered.
During World War II, a young American named Benjamin Ferencz graduated from Harvard Law School and enlisted in the Army, his battalion part of the major military campaigns in Europe. At one point he was assigned to the War Crimes Branch to research and to gather evidence against the Nazis forces. Writing of his experience when examining the concentration camps, he said, “I had peered into Hell.”
After the war, he was recruited to serve as a prosecutor in the Nuremberg war crimes trials against the leading Nazi officials. Part of his job was gathering evidence against twenty-two members of the German military that had ordered, coordinated, and participated in the annihilation of over one million people. In the end, all twenty-two men were convicted.
Ben continued his work after the trial, determined to spend the remainder of his life working for peace and justice, advocating for international laws that would prevent any future atrocities like the Nazi death camps. Despite setbacks and regardless of deterrents, Ben stayed the course, refusing to give up his cause. Recognizing the difficulties of his efforts, he often remarked, “It takes courage not to be discouraged.”
Those are well-chosen words, learned by losses, earned by experience, a mantra to reinforce the walls of conviction when they are on the point of crumbling, a call to return again and again to the cause even when there are no signs of success. Like the persistent widow who refused to back down or back away, the follower of the Galilean Teacher also must be ready to fight the cause of justice and right, day after day, month after month, year after year.
“Will he find faith when he returns?” That is the central question that the parable poses and that is the question that awaits an answer from us, people who trod the same road as the widow, the odds clearly against us, those with power opposed to us. Can we stand before the dishonest judge as many times as it takes to seek justice in a world hellbent on injustice?
A wise man once said that “Faith is not proven true by answered prayer but by unanswered prayer.” The statement is an astute recognition that the faith that Rabbi Jesus asks of his followers is not dependent on receiving positive results or on getting quick answers. Quite the contrary. If we got everything we wanted in life, we wouldn’t need faith; all we’d need is a handful of quarters to put into the snack machine.
But, since the path of justice is a rugged road, long and winding, faith is required of us, the only thing that keeps us going when we are out of breath, the one thing that sustains us when everything else is taken from us. The widow in the story that Rabbi Jesus tells had that kind of faith and, as a result, becomes a model of the true disciple of the Galilean Rabbi who himself was nailed to a cross on a hill outside the gates of Jerusalem by those in power, left to die like all those without power, beaten up but refusing to be beaten down, even to his last breath.
–Jeremy Myers
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