Date
Sunday, October 16, 2016
Sermon Audio
Full Service Audio

I don’t think I have ever seen a university student look so devastated and so pleased with himself at the same time as I did years ago when I met a person who had just finished his Ph.d dissertation like ten minutes before. He said, “Andrew, I am so tired of writing that if I write one more dot and tittle, I think I will start drinking” – and this from an abstemious Methodist!  He continued, “I don’t think I can come up with one more addendum to a footnote, one more restructuring of a bibliography without doing myself damage.  I am exhausted and tired, and frankly, (and I know all people who write dissertations say the same thing), I was bored to death with what I was writing!”  Two years later, I met him again.  This time, it was at the Oxford Centre for Mission Studies. Rather than moaning about his dissertation two years before, he was there at his book launch!
 
Evidently, the dissertation was so good that a publisher picked it up, restructured it – for you never want to read a dissertation! – turned it into a readable book, and immediately published it.  I went up to the table and I looked him in the face as he was signing copies, and he looked up at me with beaming eyes and a wide smile, and he said, “I did it, didn’t I?  I did it!”  And, I loved him for it!  But, what I really loved about him was that he had written an incredible book about the Rwandan genocide and the role of the church in reconciliation.  It was a magnificent and inspiring piece.  I asked him, “Why have you moved so quickly to have this published?  It is a great work, but what has motivated you?”

He said, “A young woman.  The woman’s name was Immaculee Ilibagiza.”

Immaculee was a young Rwandan woman who in 1994 found herself in the midst of the genocide.  Her family had been massacred, and she had nowhere to go except the home of the local pastor who hid her and two of her friends in the bathroom of his house, only hours later to be hacked to death himself, but nobody saw the girls in the washroom.  The three of them were so frightened that they hunkered down.   For ninety-one days these girls were afraid to leave that room.  Immaculee went in at 115 pounds, and she came out at 65 pounds.  The only reading material she had was a Bible in English and the dictionary of English, and she decided that she would learn the English language while she was in there.  She didn’t know why.  But, in all her fear and in all her terror, she did one thing:  she prayed.  She was a devout Roman Catholic and she had her rosary beads with her and she prayed.  Every day she prayed.
 
Eventually, after she was released after these 91 days, she lost her beads, so she no longer relied on them; she just prayed.  She prayed to Jesus to protect her, and she pleaded for her people.  It was a plea from the depths of her heart.  She had no idea what was going to happen to her. Her village was gone, her pastor and family murdered, and she weighed 65 pounds.  She seemed to have no future, no hope – nothing!  Still, she believed enough to keep praying and praying.  Through a series of incredible events, she was granted refugee status.  She and other orphaned children were brought to the United States.  She was adopted by a Christian family who had been praying they could help in the terrible plight of Rwanda, and who finally had young girls come and join them and become part of their family.  Their prayers were answered.

Immaculee happened to be brilliant.  She had learned the English language so well that the great joke was that every time she spoke, she sounded like she was reciting from the King James’ Bible.  Nevertheless, her faith was so strong that she wouldn’t be moved.  She went to university; she graduated; she spoke at the United Nations; and just this last year she had an audience with the Pope; she has spoken at Evangelical revivals; prayer meetings; and addressed Parliaments.  Immaculee has been an instrument for God.  She aid to my friend:  “I cannot bring back the 800,000 people who died, but I can commit my entire life to making sure it happens to no one else.”  Immaculee said that there was one thing, and one thing alone that sustained her:  Prayer.

In this morning’s passage from Luke, you can’t help but think of Immaculee.  This incredible parable about prayer goes right to the heart of believers.  It is a parable because it is set within Jesus’ teachings about the last days and his return.  In Chapter 17, he talks about what the world will be like when he returns, and he is concerned, and concludes this parable by saying that when he comes back, will he feel safe on this earth?  He is concerned that people will lose heart, that believers will not keep the faith, that they will not be strong and courageous in prayer.  So, in a sense, he was not only speaking within the context of his own time, he was speaking a parable to people that would last for centuries – right to us!  The parable is an incredible story of two protagonists.  And, the more I look at these two– a judge and a widow – it seems to me that one of them has a view from above and the other one from below. Jesus brilliantly brings the two of them together for a profound lesson that we all need to learn.

The judge has the view from above.  Now, let’s be clear, he was not a judge in the Jewish tradition.  We know that because judges in the time of Jesus would always hand over to the Elders the responsibility of dealing with family disputes.  Judges never dealt with those things.  We also know that he wasn’t a formal Roman judge, because Roman courts always had three judges:  one that represented the plaintiff, one who represented the defendant, one who represented a neutral point of view.  So, it wasn’t a Roman judge.  He was simply a Roman magistrate, and they were known as “Robber Judges” in biblical times.  Why?  Because they would dispense justice subjectively, and they would do it in the hope of receiving a bribe.  These judges were fundamentally corrupt, and when Jesus was telling the story, all the people would have known what he was talking about.  But Jesus goes even deeper into this.  He actually condemns this judge saying, “He neither feared God nor cared for people.”  Now, for the Scriptures, it is clear that the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom, according to Proverbs 9-10.
 
“The fear of God is the beginning of wisdom.”  In other words, the wisdom to discern, sort of like a Solomon, is given only with a respect of and an acknowledgement of God.  We are told that this man did not have wisdom – that is what Jesus is getting at.  He had no fear of God; he had no divine wisdom.  Jesus also said that he didn’t care for people, and it is obvious that he didn’t care for people, because when this widow came to him asking for help, he ignored her and wouldn’t give her justice.  He didn’t care!  Who cares about widows, he’s thinking.  Let’s get on to something bigger!  What the judge did have, given that he didn’t have wisdom and he didn’t have compassion, were two things that often the tyrant possesses:  power and authority.  He had power to decide this woman’s fate, and he had the authority to be able to exercise it.  The beautiful part of this story is that this judge, while he thought that he had all this power and authority, actually, when confronted by a woman who wanted justice, found out that he did not have as much power and authority as he thought he had.
 
I read a beautiful story of Themistocles, who was the Senator in Greece in the fifth century. He was someone who was instrumental in driving out the Persians.  He was a very powerful man, but eventually the people turned on him. This powerful man was asked “Who is the most powerful person in Greece?”  

He replied, “My infant son.”

He was then asked, “Please, tell us how it can be your infant son?”

He said, “Well, Athens dominates Greece.  I dominate Athens.  My wife dominates me, and my infant son dominates my wife.  That is why my infant son dominates Greece.”

That was his argument.  In other words, he was saying “I am not as powerful as I think I am.  I might appear to have the title, but I don’t have the power.”  In this case, with this judge, clearly he was worn down by this widow.  He was worn down by the view from below.

You see, the fact that she was a widow was important.  If you read the Scriptures, you will see that in Deuteronomy 27 or in Psalm 68 or in James I verses 27 and following, widows and the care of widows was a sign of the true religious virtue of people.  It was a true command. You look after your widows and orphans.  There is a reason for that, because under the law of the time, a widow did not automatically receive the estate of her deceased husband.  In fact, there were many other claimants to the estate. A son, if he was old enough, the older son could make a claim, or a brother could make a claim, or the father of the deceased could make a claim.  The widow often had no claim on the estate at all.  Widows were vulnerable, left out in the cold and many had to turn to other means to make money, often menial, because they weren’t allowed to work.  Such was the abuse of women in the time of Jesus, so what does Jesus do?  He takes this vulnerable woman and he makes her an example of a Christian, of a person of prayer.  He says, “This woman might not have had power, she might have not had authority, but there is one thing that she did have, what was it – persistence!”
 
She wore down this judge, and in Greek it is much clearer than in English. It is as if the judge cries out, “I have been beaten up by this woman!  For all her moaning and groaning, she has worn me down with her concerns.”  Finally, the judge capitulates and says, “You can have justice.”  There was probably no great hardship in this at all.  Often magistrates who would deal with such problems would deal justly, and would make sure that a widow received something, but, this non-God fearing, non-caring judge was defeated by the persistence of the woman.  What is Jesus getting at?  Well, he brings these two together in a classic rabbinic form that moves from a lesser argument to a greater.  He tells the story that this judge was unlike God.  He contrasts God with this judge, and he makes the point that if this judge, after having been worn down would give justice to this woman, how much more (see the greater argument now), how much more would your heavenly Father respond to your prayers?  How much more will he give you for what it is you desire and that you ask for?

The woman did not get more than justice.  She didn’t get everything that she wanted, but she got what was right and just.  What Jesus is getting at is that for those Christians who are concerned and are losing their faith and are worrying about tomorrow, he is saying, “Be persistent in your prayers!  Keep going!  Keep asking!  Keep pleading!” Like Immaculee in that bathroom in Rwanda.  Keep bringing your requests to God.  Don’t stop!  The problem with our day and age, and it is probably one that has always been there if we are really honest, is that we don’t see an immediate answer to our prayers.  You are probably saying in your mind now, “You know, interestingly enough, I’ve asked for something ten years ago and it hasn’t happened, or I had asked thirty times and it hasn’t occurred.”  You are wondering if in fact God is really working out a purpose in your life and in the world.  Jesus is not saying that we have earned God’s request, he is not saying that the sheer number of prayers that we offer will actually make all the difference in the world.  Rather, prayer is a persistent thing; it doesn’t stop even now, when it appears things are not as they should be.
 
Annie Dillard has written a brilliant little book called, Total Eclipse. In it she talks a lot about prayer.  She talks about the fact there is in the heavens what is known as the Ring Nebula, and I don’t know if you have leafed through your Order of Service today, but the Ring Nebula is actually in there on the front cover of a certain book on the doctrine of the Trinity, by a certain minister here.  The reason the publisher chose that is precisely because of Annie Dillard’s story.  It is because the Ring Nebula of the Constellation Lyra is through the human eye and even the binocular, nothing more than a smoke ring in the atmosphere.  It has been seen on earth, evidently according to scientists, since 1054, when it was so bright and erupted so greatly in the heavens that people could see it in the daylight, never mind at night.  When you look at it with binoculars, even a thousand years later, it seems not to have changed.  In fact, if you took a photograph of it fifty years ago and another photograph of it today, you would think it is exactly the same.  Yet, the staggering statistic and Hubble can tell us that it is expanding at seventy million miles a day!  This incredible activity in the heavens is going on, but even a thousand years later from where we are on earth, it appears to be nothing.  Annie Dillard says, “Isn’t this exactly what God is like.  God is so great, so beyond our comprehension, seeing things we do not see, active when we think God is inactive, powerful when we think God is powerless, working when we think God is silent.”

Jesus is saying to his disciples and to all who would listen, between now and when I come again, don’t lose that faith.  Keep praying!  Keep asking!  This is not because we have to somehow get God’s attention, but we have to let God know that we still believe that God is at work, that God is caring in the universe, that God is not unjust, like the judge in the parable, and that the widow, and the one in the greatest need can have their voice heard by our heavenly Father.  If you are one of those people who are here today asking those very questions and wondering about your own faith in an uncertain world, I want you to listen to this parable, because it is faith, it is a prayer, and it is of God’s commitment to us.  On his return, the Lord will say, “Have I found such faith on this earth?” And you will say, “You have in me!” Amen.