A sermon preached by

West Hartford, CT

October 18, 1998

Jeremiah 31:27-34; Luke 18:1-8

How do we discern God’s will for our lives? I’ve asked myself this question over and over this past week as I’ve made notes, reflected upon and meditated on this subject. I have framed my thinking by using the first verse of Psalm 119, "Blessed are those whose way is blameless, who walk in the law of the Lord." Now I hasten to add that I will not suppose that all of our ways are blameless, but I suspect that most of us, anyway, try to walk in the "law of the Lord." Again, I ask myself, how do I discern the will of God for my life. I might take as advice the words we will hear in the Offertory Solo: "Acquaint now thyself with Him and be at peace; thereby good shall come unto thee. Exalt the Lord our God and worship at His holy hill, for the Lord our God is holy. Give unto the Lord the glory due unto His name. Bring an offering and come unto His courts."

Another way of framing my desire to "discern the will of God…" is found in Jeremiah: "I will put my law within them, and I will write it upon their hearts." How difficult it is to live constantly with the law of God in our hearts. The vision of the prophet is expansive. No mere reclaiming of lost real estate is at issue here, but a new covenant, a new compact, to be extended by Yahweh to the people. The exodus and the giving of the law on Mount Sinai obviously form the background to this exhilarating promise made to all the people: ("the house of Israel and the house of Judah"). The old covenant was characterized by the failure of the people to live up to its provisions, but the new covenant will be a covenant that operates from within. It will be etched not on tablets of stone, but on the innermost being of the people, on their hearts.

Often, when struggling with a problem in my life, wondering what God’s will is for me, I will talk to a good friend. She is wise, thoughtful, spirit-filled, and open to any of my questions or wanderings. Inevitably she will ask: "what does your heart tell you." She asked me that when I was weighing the decision to move from Pennsylvania to Connecticut; and when I was seeking to discern the will of God by coming here. It was she who reminded me of this wonderful parable we heard read just a few moments ago. It was she who urged me to keep praying and asking God for guidance just as the persevering widow came before the ruthless judge. What a delightful story this is for all of us who seek to discern God’s will in our lives. The widow kept asking!

Not too many years ago I was in Rome, walking about, enjoying the splendor of the churches on a bright and sunny Saturday afternoon. As I passed one of the churches, I was delighted to see a wedding party coming out. I stopped to watch. The bride and groom were radiant; the members of the wedding party were proud. And from the sidelines came a beggar. First to the bride, then to the groom, then to a gentleman I assumed was the father of the bride. She kept begging and because she was so intent on her task, she received more than a few coins. I could not help but think of this parable of the persevering widow and the judge. And as one reflects on this passage, one is drawn to the literary context in Luke’s narrative that gives it even greater depth and urgency. For example, the parable is made a part of the preceding discourse about the crisis to come. How does one discern the will of God in times of crisis? Jesus warns the disciples about the frantic days just prior to the coming of the Son of man, days comparable to the time of the Flood and the judgment on Sodom. In the meantime, the parable directs the disciples to pray so they can discern the will of God in their lives. Jesus leaves them with the question: "When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?" (18:8) The inclusion of the parable in the larger discourse provides a new definition of faith---fervent and persistent prayer.

On Tuesday mornings at 7:00 a group of men gather in the conference room. We have a blessing over our food, and then chat for a bit. At 7:30 there is a time of prayer and concerns of this congregation are lifted up. Then we pray. There is no doubt in my mind that in our quiet prayer time, and in our conversations with each other, that we are seeking to discern the will of God in our lives. The inclusion of the parable in the larger context provides a new definition of faith—fervent and persistent prayer.

When the early Christians repeated this story of the widow and the judge to one another, the accent sometimes fell on one character and sometimes on the other. Sometimes they paid special attention to the widow with whom they felt they could empathize rather easily. They knew how she felt in her defenseless predicament. She had no clout in the community. She did not know the mayor of the town or any of the county commissioners who might pull strings for her to get her case on the docket. All she could do was to go back time and again to hound the judge. She turned up regularly at the gates of the city where he held court and pursued him on the streets and in the shops. She would not let him rest until he granted her justice.

Day by day he "took a beating" from her. Finally she wore him down: he granted her plea not because he had any sense of justice, but simply to be rid of her.

There is no need to say that the judge is not offered as a picture of God. A parable has one central jet of truth, in this instance the need for persistence in prayer. The judge is drawn as an unworthy man that the parable may stress the "how much more" (11:13; Matt. 7:11)." If a heartless judge grants a widow’s prayer, surely God’s heart of love will not refuse her. But this assurance only deepens the problem of the story: why should anyone, especially a widow a (symbol of the innocent and helpless), have to plead and wait, and wait and plead? (like the beggar woman I observed in Rome) The pain and burden of "unanswered prayer" are in that question. We do not know the whole reason. If we did, we should be God, and we should have no need to pray.

The widow became a model for the early Christians, to teach them "to pray always and not to lost heart" (18:1). She was a reminder in days of crisis and moments of despair to continue to pray. Prayer was not a last resort when all the plans and programs and power plays had failed; prayer was, rather, the first and primary task of Christians. Her prayerful pursuit of justice became an expression of deep faith, the kind of faith the Son of man seeks as we, his disciples, try to discern His will for us.

There were days when, in repeating this story, the early Christians reflected on the ruthless judge. One of his primary tasks was to see to the protection of the vulnerable people in society, especially the widow, the orphan, and the alien. They comprised the group in whom God had a special interest. Still, this judge had a well-earned reputation of being corrupt. It was not that he was underhanded or conniving; he simply had no conscience and was impervious to shame. The only way he could be reached was by the peskiness of the widow, who refused to give him a moment’s peace until he granted her justice.

The early Christians thought about the judge. Look, they reasoned, if an unscrupulous person like this heartless judge gave in to the unceasing pleas of the widow, how much more will God listen to God’s people as they cry day and night for justice in the world? We long for justice in the Middle East, the Balkans, and other troubled spots in the world. We must believe that God can be counted on to vindicate the oppressed. God won’t turn a deaf ear to our prayers.

The unjust judge in many ways parallels the begrudging neighbor who refuses to help his friend at midnight until he realizes the shame he might otherwise bring on himself (Luke 11:5-8). They both represent contrasting types for God. By their unsavory qualities they call attention to the opposite attributes of God—one to be trusted, one responsive to requests, one who sees that justice is carried out. Their stinginess and reluctance to help is more than matched by the lavish generosity of God.

But the two characters (widow and judge) also belong together. Persistence in prayer is rooted in the character of God. There is no reason to continue to pray unless the one who prays has at least an inkling of confidence (no more than a mustard seed?) that the one who hears prayers will answer them. Otherwise, exhortations to persevere can result only in frustration and discouragement.

Moreover, the character of God—just, holy, merciful, responsive—determines the answer to persistent prayer. The widow only asks for justice and what God grants is justice. The parable is not a commitment that God will give us whatever we want, unless what we want is in line with the character of God.