I want to warn you in advance that my sermon this morning will be far more personal than
I am used to, or comfortable doing. I took the title from one of the most commonly asked questions in psycho therapy
sessions, and it has been one of the issues that I have been struggling with for the last two years. It is central
to any individual's healing process, but I believe it has to be heard on a number of levels, only one of which
ultimately matters.
First, it can be heard as an individual assessment of one's current perspective; as in the need to be able to verbalize
one's own understanding of what is actually going on in their life, what is lacking, and what they believe would
effect the necessary change.
On another level there is the issue of the therapist's view of the problem, or even an outside friend or colleagues
opinion of your life. As human beings go most of us are not all that unique, and our issues tend to be more universal
than we as individuals are comfortable admitting. Thus there can be some pretty tried and true remedies and assessments
suggested best by those who observe us. Many people will refuse to hear those, because they seem so obvious, but
they may still be what that individual "really needs."
On a third level, above and beyond anything we as human beings may ever choose for ourselves or think to recommend
to one another, I believe there is a divine understanding of why we were placed on this earth, and why at this
particular time in history. The key to unlocking the mystery to that question I believe, is what we all really
need.
Clearly as a cleric I have a prejudice for that position, but it is also one well documented in scriptures written
over the course of the last 4,000 years, a selection of which we are dealing with today in our lection readings.
"Revival of church life always brings in its train a richer understanding of the Scriptures. Behind all the
slogans and catchwords of ecclesiastical controversy, necessary though they are, there arises a more determined
quest for him who is the sole object of it all, for Jesus Christ himself." These words introduce "The
Cost of Discipleship" by Dietrich Bonhoeffer.
They also underscore the opinion which was stated by Paul in today's epistle advice to Timothy: All scripture is
inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so
that everyone who belongs to God may be proficient, equipped for every good work.
The words the apostle uses to explain the true function of scripture here are not all that popular: teaching, reproof,
correction, training-these are all terms relating to our human need for divine discipline. By contrast we live
in an age that is notoriously "undisciplined," and most of us are quite comfortable with it continuing
that way.
We are for the most part over-drawn, over-weight, over-indulged, and over-confident about our own rights and entitlements.
While that might bother some enough to lose sleep over it every now and then, the reality is that we don't do much
to change the situation.
Coupled with those words we have also been given a parable, found only in the Gospel of Luke, with the preface
that the purpose of this parable is for people to not lose heart and to continue steadfastly in prayer. The story
is couched in the symbolism of a poor widow seeking redress for her problems from a judge who has no concern for
either God or humanity. In short this is a judge who is only in it for himself.
We know enough about the conditions for women in Jesus day, and widows in particular, to clearly understand that
this woman has legitimate needs. At first glance the parable seems to be praising her persistence for sticking
to her cause until she gets what she wants.
The problem with the text, at least for preachers, is the manner of the reasoning. The logic proposed is this:
If the unjust judge can be "encouraged" to do what is right by being annoyed day and night, shouldn't
we expect a just judge (that is, God) to hear our prayers and responsibly deal with us and our needs based on our
constancy in prayer? And then there is the problem for those who hear this text as saying, "the squeaky wheel
gets the grease" or more to the point, that by persistent prayer we can make God do whatever we would have
God do.
In short, that God will give us whatever we think we need if we ask long, and hard, and often enough. Anyone who
has raised whiny children, or who has been in a marriage with a highly demanding spouse, knows that this tact often
does work. But getting what we want is not always getting what we really need!
Remember too that the purpose of this parable is not about getting what we want, the purpose of this parable is
for people to not lose heart and to continue steadfastly in prayer. Persistence is not a long race; it is many
short races, run one after another. It is holding on when holding on isn't fun anymore, but it is holding on in
spite of that.
Jesus Christ, believed in prayer. He taught his disciples to pray always. Not just to pray when it seemed right,
but always. Not just when the chips were down or if nothing else worked, but always. Not just when the problem
was big enough or important enough to warrant divine assistance, but in every situation. And Jesus told them not
to lose heart.
Remember that Luke is writing to the church years after Jesus has already taught them to pray. Luke, who never
actually met Jesus himself, assumes his readers not only know how to pray, but that they are praying. Yet, they
are getting discouraged by all the injustice they see in their world for which their prayers seem to be of no avail…things
aren't changing…so why keep praying?
Persistent prayer works for a number of reasons. It is particularly important in changing us and bringing us in
agreement with God's will. It helps us to know for certain that justice will be done.
The problem has always been though that when God grants justice "quickly," from a Biblical perspective,
it can take a thousand years, and it is also important to remember that our sense of justice and God's sense of
justice are almost always completely different. It is hard to see justice through the lens of the cross, and not
believe that getting what we want isn't going to cost us dearly.
Faith is associated with remaining true to those conversion vows that so many people mouth but do not necessarily
commit to. To remain "true" is to regularly turn up to the judge and seek justice. To "turn to Christ"
is to seek his judgment every moment we encounter a decision. Jesus does not say God will give in to what you want,
but that God will "grant justice." Persistence in order to know the will of God is the yearning for
change! Half of knowledge is knowing where to find it.
I believe such knowledge can only be found in corporate worship, and Bible Study focused on the word of God, and
I have come to the conclusion that I have nothing to offer this congregation because that is not what is of primary
interest to them. A scripture passage is not filler, and it's not something pretty to adorn a wall. It is meant
to be written on the heart. We may get frustrated because we don't see its power dramatically transforming our
world, or our individual lives as quickly as we think it should…but it has no less power for our perceptions.
In Holy the Firm by Annie Dillard, there is a description of a worship setting I thought of when I read the Gospel
passage for this week.
"There is one church here, so I go to it. On Sunday mornings I wander down the hill to the white frame church
in the firs. On a big Sunday there might be twenty of us there; often I am the only person under sixty, and feel
as though I am on an archaeological tour of Soviet Russia. The members are of mixed denominations; the minister
is a congregationalist, but the man knows God.
Once, in the middle of a long pastoral prayer of intercession for the whole world - for the gift of wisdom for
leaders, for hope and mercy for the grieving and pained, healing for the sick, succor to the oppressed, and God's
grace to all - in the middle of this he stopped, and burst out, "Lord, we bring you these same petitions every
week!" After a shocked pause, he continued reading the prayer.
Because of this I like him very much."
Knowing what we really need requires being honest about who we really are. About our true motivation, and the real
goals we hope to achieve?
It seems to be at the heart of the meaning of the parable that Jesus chose a widow, the symbol for political powerlessness
as the heroine of the story. She brings about a change in an unjust world, and she does it without weaponry or
money. We too have an unjust world. Clearly there are no shortage of dimensions to this injustice; the oppression
of the Taliban, the injustice of the political alliances the US has made over the years in the Middle East, the
injustice of the terrorist acts that harm so many innocent people. The question, it would seem, is how does one
change an unjust world. How does one change anything, even themselves?
Some people have never met God either in prayer or in the written word or in forgiveness or in faith or in their
neighbor or in their lives and yet they fondly hope to meet God in heaven. Doesn't it make sense that if we haven't
found God on earth we won't find God in heaven either. Not because God isn't present there, but simply because
we would not know how to recognize God in the first place, we never knew where to look.
We are powerless without God. But in terms of priorities God is pretty far down the list. When was the last time
you prayed for revival of faith?
And we should be haunted by Jesus' question, "when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?"
"God intends to answer cries of a people persistent for justice," and Jesus says, "but will there
be found much if any such praying at my return?"
In closing I want to share with you an commentary from a rural newspaper that had been running a series of articles
on the value of church attendance. One day, a letter to the editor was received. It read:
"Print this if you dare. I am trying an experiment. I have a field of corn which I plowed on Sunday. I planted
it on Sunday. I did all the cultivating on Sunday. I gathered the harvest on Sunday and hauled it to my barn on
Sunday. I find that my harvest this October is just as great as any of my neighbors' who went to church every Sunday.
So where was God all this time and how did God benefit them any more than me?"
The editor printed the letter, but added this reply at the bottom: "You're mistake is in thinking that God
always settles accounts in October."
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