The Sermon of the Faithful Widow

There is a saying that faith is having the ability to let go of any cliff you’re hanging on and trust God has something prepared for you at the bottom. Hopefully a soft landing. As the saying goes let go and let God. The widow and the unjust judge presents an alternative to the previous saying: Faith, as it appears in this story, is not about letting go and letting God, but about persistence. Faith, then, is more about the ability to strengthen your grip on the cliff, refusing to let go, because God’s justice is being demanded. It is refusing to let go because you believe God is not done. Persistence.

Of course it should be noted there are good kinds of persistence and there are bad kinds of persistence. For example, the good: Once upon time during the 60s a young lady’s father was invited to speak at an associational Baptist Christmas meeting in south Georgia. When she heard about the announcement she invited her entire church group to go with her. She said, “Y’all, let’s go hear him” and in her church “y’all” meant everybody. It didn’t mean, “You white folks.” So they all went to the big million-dollar church that hosted the meeting. As they went in, the church was singing, “Glory to God in the highest! On earth, peace, good will to men,” and the group went on in and sat down.

Well the pew in front of this group vacated, the people just got up and moved away, as did the entire row behind them. Suddenly there they were, a little island in the big sanctuary. Nobody to the right, or to the left, or in front or behind. Shortly, the chairman of the hospitality committee came steaming up the aisle, face flushed. A gentleman by the name of Al Henry was sitting at the end of the pew. The chairman punched Al on the shoulder and said, “He can’t stay in here,” pointing to the black fellow in their group. Oh Al just started singing, “Peace on earth, good will to men.” Then the chairman came around this vacant bench which the people had conveniently vacated for him and stood right in front the young black man, named McGee, and said, “Come on, boy, you gotta get out here. You can’t stay in here.” McGee couldn’t sing anything, but he started singing, “Peace on earth, good will to men.” Eventually the entire row started singing, “Peace on earth, good will to men.”

Now for the bad, because this story doesn’t end: The chairman became infuriated and shouted, “Did you hear me? I said you’ve got to get out of here. You’re disturbing divine worship!” He lunged over the bench and grabbed McGee and started pulling him over the bench. The group formed around their friend and demanded to talk with the pastor, but were denied. To make a long story short, the church deacons got the visitors outside and those deacons formed a big line and stood between them and the door to the sanctuary to make sure that they couldn’t get in again.

The pastor stood there with the deacons. A man named Clarence looked up to him and said, “You know, there’s something wrong about tonight, something awfully wrong. On the night when people are singing, ‘Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace,’ for a man to be dragged out of the house of God when his only offense is the color of the skin with which the Almighty endowed him, there’s something wrong.” The pastor looked at Clarence and said, “Yes, I agree. But this is the policy of our church and you should leave.”(Jordan, Clarence. The Substance of Faith and Other Cotton Patch Sermons. Pg. 136-137).

There is a difference in faithful persistence and unfaithful persistence. These past sixteen days we have experienced unfaithful persistence by a government intent on holding people’s livelihoods ransom until they get what they want. While some may hail certain parties as heroic, there is nothing heroic about putting others on furlough while you still receive a hefty paycheck. It is unfaithful persistence.

The widow in our story is put in a similar situation. The judge, responsible for caring her, refuses to hear her case. He has no concern for her because he doesn’t know the Lord or give a hoot about the people. She remains persistent and because of her faithful, just persistence, he eventually says, “Even though I don’t believe in God and don’t give a hoot about these people, because this woman has got it in for me, I’ll hear her case before she finally nags me to death.” It appears this old widow, every chance she got, was at the judge’s door, “You’re gonna hear my case? You’re gonna hear it?” Maybe she brought him a homemade apple pie and as he went to take a bite, said, “You’re gonna hear my case?”

Faithful persistence.

Do you recall the movie Network? There is a famous scene in which a news anchor takes on the form of a fiery Baptist preacher, winds the people up about the atrocities that take place in the movie and yells at the camera, “You've got to say, 'I'm a HUMAN BEING! My life has VALUE!' So I want you to get up now. I want all of you to get up out of your chairs. I want you to get up right now and go to the window. Open it, and stick your head out, and yell, 'I'M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!'”

The scene continues with persistence until the camera pans outside and suddenly every citizen in the area is screaming out their window as lightning strikes, “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore!”

Persistence.

Faithful persistence.

It would be a strange prayer, would it not, to stand outside your house and yell to God, “I’m mad, God. I mad that a prosecutor in Missouri dropped the rape case of a 14 year old because the accused is a star athlete and it would be bad for his political career.” I’m mad that our congress refuses to have a spirit of leadership, a spirit of compromise, and a spirit of justice in their hearts. I’m mad because friends continue to get sick from incurable diseases. I’m mad because we continue to sit on the verge of war. I’m mad because there are too many who are hungry, too many who are thirsty, and too many who are naked, and there’s nothing I can do. I’m mad at parents who abandon their children. I’m mad at the availability of drugs and the struggle of addiction some many fall into. I’m mad that suicide is third leading cause of death in America, and the third leading cause of death in Virginia among 10-24 year olds. I’m mad at the pain caused by cyberbullying. I’m mad at the diseases of depression and our consistent ignoring of mental health issues. I’m mad that children around the world are unable to go to school without the fear of a terrorist with a bomb taped to his chest. I’m mad at all the injustice in this world. I’m mad at you, Lord because you feel so absent. It feels you have abandoned us. Where, O Lord, is your justice! Where?”

You would be thought of as strange to say such a prayer out your window; yet our story this morning tells us that faithful prayer is not passive. It is not letting go in hopes Jesus will catch you. It is not a Jesus take the wheel kind of faith, it is a Jacob kind of faith that grabs hold of God’s leg and refuses to let go. That is the faith of the persistence widow. She is not going to let go until the judge hears her.

Jesus tells us to listen to what the wicked judge is saying. “How much more readily will God have compassion on and hear the case of his special workers who are in contact with him night and day! I tell you,” Jesus says, “he’ll hear their case at once.” Jesus makes a promise that God will hear the persistent prayers of his children who constantly pull on his pants leg, “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

“But,” Jesus adds, “will the son of man find faith on the earth when he confronts it?” In other words, will Jesus find such faith among his followers when he confronts the injustice of this world? Will he find such persistence among his followers? Or will he find the Church hidden in their homes praying, “Lord, please, let us be left alone in our living rooms. Let me have my NASCAR, my books, my air conditioner and let me sing, “I’ll fly away.”

These past sixteen days have caused a little bit of a crisis of faith. As the Thursday default deadline neared and our government was still at an impasse, I felt a devilish voice speak of a historical reminder and I was preparing to experience a form a great depression. After all, every politician, as they continued to label their counterpart as the devil (side note: it is interesting that the most persistent thing we have taught our kids is not how to love but who to hate, who is evil, and how that message contradicts the one we hear in our hymn, “Jesus loves the little children of the world”), kept speaking of a great catastrophe and my level of anxiety grew because I knew there was a deadline approaching. We were running out of time. Where, O Lord, are you?

Then the widow began preaching to me and she preached hard, saying, “Joseph Ferrell Kendrick, you are a fool. Don’t you know it is the atheistic anxiety of the world that believes it is running out of time?” Her persistence preached, “It’s not justice that’s running out of time, it’s injustice that’s on the clock. It’s not hope running out of time but despair. It’s not life that’s running out time, it’s death“(Long, Thomas. “Learning to Tell Time” 2013).

And I said, “Take me to church!”

So she kept preaching that faithful persistence is to strengthen your grip on the cliff of life, refusing to let go because you know that this world is not as God intended and God is on the way to right the world. “Put your big boy pants on, preacher,” She preached, “you got work to do. Keep praying. God hears you and God is going to answer.”

And she still preaching this morning, “When the son of man comes to confront the injustice of this world, will he find a faithful persistent church? Or will he find a church buried deep in its faithless doctrines, its faithless politics, and its faithless traditions? Let us have the faithful persistence to hold on for one more day. Let us have the faithful persistence to stand at the door of the temple of the Lord, and knock until he answers. So put your big boy, your big girl pants on folks. God hears ya and God is going to answer.”

Amen, sister. Amen.