nevertheless, she persisted
One of the most valuable theological lessons I learned was on my first hospital visit to a man in the congregation where I did my internship. He was about to have open heart surgery and with some timidity, I asked him if he had any fear about the surgery. He looked at me with a direct gaze and said, “Jenny, I don’t know what will happen but I do know this: I have been loved my whole life on this earth and I know that love will go with me into the next life.”
In that moment, I realized that was all one really needed to know. Theological debates aside, we come from Love, we live in Love and we return to Love.
As we face a world of tragedy, pain and injustice, one of the core questions we ask ourselves is what is on the other side of our human experience? What kind of God is there?
This parable tells the story of a woman who would not give up. Our music director, Raf, so kindly offered the title, “Nevertheless she persisted” from a recent event in our United States Senate. It was too perfect to resist.
This widow was looking for justice. Someone had harmed or stolen from her and she could not get a response from the judge in her case. So she persisted. She kept coming and asking. She even threatened him. The New Revised Standard that was read quotes the judge as saying, “I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming” but that is a significant softening of the text. The Greek actually says, “I will grant her justice, so that she may not attack me.” The judge was physically threatened by this woman. So, we shouldn’t domesticate this woman. She was a formidable force demanding justice for herself.
The judge relents, not out of a sense of justice, but because she wore him down.
Jesus compares the judge to God saying that God is the opposite of this judge. Where the judge does not care about justice nor respect this woman, God does.
This text is often used as an encouragement for us to pray more and it certainly is that. But it goes deeper than that.
First, the widow reveals what is often our human experience. Most of us have experienced some sort of injustice. Most of us are looking for what is wrong – in the world, within us, in our relationships – to be made right. Most of us know the experience of knocking on doors that are slow to open. We know what it’s like to ache and grieve and face a world that is not working in our favor. And so does this woman.
There is a darkness and unanswered question of fairness to the human experience that we can relate to in this story.
This week, more than most, Northern California is feeling this. As fires rip through neighborhoods and people die of fire in their homes in the middle of the night, we stand in the darkness of human experience, wondering where the justice is. How can life be so unfair and so tenuous?
And this brings us to another question the text is addressing. Is there a God on the other side of all of our pain? And secondly, if so, who is God?
In this parable, Jesus brings to life the God who he knew and who he proclaimed. If this judge does not love justice, then God does love justice. If this judge is slow to respond, God is very responsive. If this judge did not respect people, God does respect people. The God on the other side of our human reality is all of these things.
And so we should not be afraid to ask. We should not worry about when the other shoe will drop. We do not need to worry about our performance or perfection. God is love and God loves us.
It has been powerful to be considering this text alongside the preparation for the installation of me as your pastor this week and I want to make this a bit personal.
I did not grow up in the Presbyterian church. I did not grow up seeing women in leadership. Women did not preach and were not allowed to teach men. And so, to be here, on this day, installed as senior pastor at this beautiful and vibrant congregation is something that my 12 year old self would not have been able to even imagine or conceive of.
I stepped backwards into this day. I was not looking to be Presbyterian and could not have told you what that meant 15 years ago. My husband and I were just looking for a church that would give us space to grow and heal when we landed in the back pews of First Presbyterian Berkeley. And I didn't care that San Francisco Theological Seminary was Presbyterian, I just wanted a space that would allow me freedom to explore theologically, and they happened to have a preschool for my three year old daughter.
I have been led not by the goal of being a pastor but by asking questions. Asking questions of the Bible and of theology. Asking questions of my experience and of the world and how God fit in. I have had to do a lot of leaving, a lot of grieving, a lot of knocking on doors with no clear sense that anyone would answer.
And so I relate to this woman and her persistence. And I think all of us do in some way. Your journey has no doubt looked different than mine, but we all are knocking on the veil between our reality and divine reality, wondering how everything is going to come out and hoping for some resolution.
On this beautiful day, in anticipation of the installation this afternoon, it is a peek behind the veil, it is a little reprieve in the seeking and the knocking, to say that yes! God is good and God is listening and God is responding. Those days are often few and far between but today, it is a reminder that God is love and leading us in love, despite the trauma and the struggle.
But, we don't go far enough to only make this text about us and our journey and our prayer life. This text invites us to ask a central question: If God listens and responds to the cry of this oppressed woman, do we reflect God’s character by also listening and responding to the cry of the oppressed?
The cry of those without power in our world is often persistent and even annoying, as the judge found. It disrupts our quiet lives and demands a response. But Jesus says that God hears and God responds. And if we mirror God, we listen as well. And so, this morning I invite you to consider who is crying for justice in our world. Is it people of color who are speaking out about how they are treated in this country? Is it those for whom the system has not worked and who find themselves on the street? Is it those in physical, emotional or spiritual bondage? Who is up in your face asking for a response and how might you reflect the love of God by listening and responding?
This morning on facebook, I saw a poster that had been stapled to a utility pole in Sonoma County this week: The love in the air is thicker than the smoke.
This is what we are invited to believe about the very nature of reality. That we come from love, we live in love and we return to love. And that we are that love when we listen and respond to those who are crying for justice.