In the past few years, I’ve found myself frequently turning to the books of Amy-Jill Levine, a New Testament scholar and orthodox Jewish woman.

Perhaps because she doesn’t carry the baggage of 2000 years of Christian tradition on her shoulders, I find that her scholarship often gives me new eyes with which to see stories from Scripture that have become so familiar to me that it can be difficult at times to hear them as the living and inspiring word of God that they are.

On of the things she does when she examines parables told by Jesus is to look at them without the added commentary by the Gospel writer presenting them.

So, instead of starting with verse the first verse in our reading for this morning, “Jesus told his disciples a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart,” she would simply start with the actual parable.

For the first verse is really Luke’s interpretation of the parable.

She also would leave out the last few verses in which Jesus comments on his own parable, as she believes that this is again Luke’s interpretation and not necessarily what Jesus said.

If we listen to just the parable, it sounds like this:

“In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Grant me justice against my opponent.’ For a while he refused; but later he said to himself, ‘Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.’”

When this parable is read without the prelude and postlude, it is difficult to read this parable as being a parable about prayer or even praying without ceasing.

Although it can certainly still be read as a parable about not losing heart, but perhaps for different reasons than what Luke gave us.

Clearly Luke identifies the unjust judge as an inferior stand-in for God and is trying to encourage us in our prayer life, because if an unjust judge can be persuaded by a persistent widow, then God, who is just, will certainly take care of us when we persist in asking.

But this interpretation leaves me unsatisfied and actually weakens my faith rather than strengthens it.

If it works for you, then just stop listening to the rest of what I have to say, but if you find yourself like me searching for more, then I hope I can provide you with something that will be meaningful for you and your life of faith.

Here are some of the problematic questions Luke’s interpretation raises for me.

First, if God can give the widow whatever she asks, why doesn’t he just make the world a more just place to begin with?

Why does God allow any injustice at all?

Why does the widow have to keep asking?

Why do we have to be persistent?

I certainly don’t think most people would see me as a very good parent if either of my children could only get what they needed from me if they asked over and over again.

I am sure there are times when this has been true, but I don’t view these occasions as examples of when I was at the top of my game as a parent.

Why then would we need to ask God over and over again for what we need, if God is indeed a God of love and mercy?

In other words, Luke’s interpretation raises the theodicy question: If God is just, holy, good and all-powerful as defined by having power and control over all things, then why do evil and suffering exist?

Or to put it in the words of the ancient Greek philosopher Epicurus:

Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able?

Then he is not omnipotent.

Is he able, but not willing?

Then he is malevolent.

Is he both able and willing?

Then whence cometh evil?

Is he neither able nor willing?

Then why call him God?

Frankly, I can no longer believe in the omnipotence of God, when defined as the One who can do all things and controls all things, and believe in God.

I believe with all my heart, and soul, and mind, that God is the God of love.

God is the God of mercy.

God is the Creator of everything that is and was and is to come.

And if all these things are true, then this God must not be able to end all evil and suffering, because the God of love and mercy would end evil and suffering if God could.

And yet this God is all-powerful, because power as God defines power is not power as the world defines power.

We assume that power has to involve the ability or capacity to manipulate, shape, control or transform something or someone else to advance our purposes.

In this view of power, in order to be all-powerful, God must have the complete ability to do all of these things to that which God created.

We then must conclude that if we are suffering it is because God is allowing us to suffer for reasons that we don’t understand.

But what if this is not the ultimate power.

What if the ultimate power is love in relationship?

And what is love?

Love is wanting the best for the other.

Love is a relationship that involves both giving and receiving.

Love is a willingness to be influenced by another.

Love is the willingness to let others have the freedom to live and move and have their being as they see fit.

Love is voluntary dependence.

Love must take the risk of not being loved back.

Love risks rejection and betrayal.

Love does not diminish in the giving, as traditional power does, but grows when it is given away.

In order to love us, God had to chose not to control us.

God had to choose not to be omnipotent.

God had to choose not to be all-powerful as we define power.

And God did this so that we could know God’s love and be able to choose to love God back.

Does this mean that God does not care what we do?

No.

But not because God wants us to adhere to some arbitrary list of rules for God’s sake, but because God wants us to be in loving relationship with God.

And God’s power is persuasive, not coercive.

There is always the risk that free beings will not choose wisely or well.

But in all things God is working for the good.

Whatever happens in the world, God experiences it.

Working to redeem and transform, God offers back to the world new and better possibilities, ever luring toward the good.

For those of you who have children, isn’t it your deepest desire that your children will make good and loving choices because they want to make these choices and not because they are afraid of your anger and punishment?

Why would God be any different?

And I think this parable, when read without Luke’s glosses, supports this understanding of God.

What if we aren’t supposed to identify the judge with God, but instead the widow?

What if the widow, with her persistent demands for justice, represents God, and we are the unjust judge, who neither feared God nor had respect for people.

When viewed this way, we see a God who continually calls us, continually asks for something from us, who just won’t let us alone until we are persuaded to do the just and loving thing.

The widow’s request of the judge is simple, that justice be served.

She doesn’t ask for special treatment, or some exceptional change of heart, but for him to fulfill the work that he has been called to do.

In the end, the judge relents, not because he has a change of heart, but because he realizes that this woman is not going to quit.

God will work with whatever we give, even if it is only a partial effort.

The widow had no choice but to continue demanding justice from the unjust judge.

It so happened that the judge relented; but if the judge had not, the widow would have continued her struggle for justice as long as there was breath in her body.

God also will never relent in seeking to persuade us to choose justice, to choose love.

And God will work with whatever we bring to the relationship, even if what we bring is less-than perfect.

In this parable, the judge does not have a conversion experience or even acknowledge that his previous actions were wrong.

He relents because he is tired of the widow and afraid that he will be publicly embarrassed by her persistence.

The Greek doesn’t actually say, “so that she may not wear me out be continually coming.”

The Greek says, “so that she may not, in the end, give me a black eye by her coming.”

It is an expression that means he is worried that others will see and hear her and judge him for his treatment of her.

In other words, he is afraid of being publicly shamed.

I am sure God hopes that the unjust judge will find better motivation than this, but God works with what the judge gives.

Perhaps a story from the theologian, Marjorie Suchocki will help you better understand what I mean. She wrote:

[During the time of apartheid], I had prayed for justice and well-being in South Africa for decades but never thought of any other mode of help. I had just moved to Washington D.C., to become the dean at Wesley Theological Seminary, and I encountered an activist faculty. Scarcely a month had gone by since my arrival when the faculty voted to demonstrate at the South African embassy, even though this demonstration entailed civil disobedience. As the new dean, I felt bound to abide by the vote of the faculty, and to join the demonstration, but inwardly I was horrified. . .. I knew neither bravery nor courage as he appointed day came. . .. Had it not been for the vote of the faculty, I would not have participated. I had no wish to defy the law.

But go I did, and to my horror it appeared that as dean, I was the leader. So, I led the march, presented our petition at the embassy door, and stood with the others as we sang the songs of freedom. Because we ignored the warnings of the police to leave, we were eventually arrested, handcuffed, and driven to the police station to be fingerprinted, and eventually—to my enormous relief—released because the embassy chose not to sue. And so, I returned to my home at the seminary grateful at having “done my duty” unscathed, and at the same time muttering that it was all useless symbolism. After all, what difference did it make that I in America had done this foolish thing that not only paled in the face of what persons actually experienced in South Africa, but almost made a mockery of their great sacrifices?

Five months later the letter came. As dean, I was the one to receive it. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I read the letter from a pastor in South Africa, thanking us at Wesley Theological Seminary for what we had done. He had read of our protest, he said, and shared it with his congregation, and he could not say what courage it had given them to know that we, too, stood with them. It gave them a new boldness in their efforts, he said, as he thanked us in the name of God. And I wept.[1]

So, I agree with Luke.

Do not lose heart.

God is infinitely persistent and will not give up on you or me or anybody.

God will persistently work to persuade every one of us, imperfections and all, to embrace the power of love and to join the side of justice.

And God will never give up, even when it seems that the unjust judges of this world are going to win.

And God will use anything we offer, even the smallest and most imperfect offering, to move us and the entire creation toward the Good.

Thanks be to God.

Amen

[1] Suchocki Marjorie Hewitt. In God’s Presence: Theological Reflections on Prayer. Chalice Press, St. Louis, Missouri. Kindle Edition Location 513. 1996.