We need to give Jesus more credit for being funny. I know religion is not supposed to a laughing matter, young man; it should be somber and sober and strict and serious. But the fact of the matter is that Jesus himself did see fit to lighten the mood every now and again. Now, in some cases, it’s not easy to get across why a 2,000-year-old joke from a foreign ancient culture is funny. But I hope you can see the humor in our scripture reading for today (Luke 18:1-8).

Jesus tells the story about someone who is so annoyingly persistent, so irritatingly insistent that she badgers a pompous and godless and grumpy judge into doing the right thing by her, even though he couldn’t care less about her or about doing what’s right – even, Jesus says, he couldn’t care less about God – he just wants her to stop buzzing in his ear and go away and leave him alone. So, he relents and does what she wants him to do – which happens to be the right thing to do.

This is funny. It’s supposed to be funny.

Jesus knew his audience. He knew they would identify with the widow. She’s the comic hero who overcomes the wicked villain, despite having no power in the situation. She has no power but her pluck, her vim, her vinegar.

As we know, Jesus saw fit to spend most of his time not with the powerful judges of his society, or with the lawyers or the priests, but with people like widows, who were often poor and unprotected and pushed aside. The Laws of Moses often speak about widows and orphans in one breath, because they were both very vulnerable in a patriarchal society. The Laws of Moses stress the importance of caring for widows and orphans. More than that, Jesus here is here lifting up the story of a widow who advocates for herself, for her need to be granted justice against someone who we can presume is trying to take advantage of her.

We don’t know the circumstance, but Jesus repeatedly used the work “justice.” His audience probably could identify with having someone trying to do them wrong, while they had very little power to stop the injustice. They did not have much leverage in their society – they could not hire a team of high-powered lawyers, or a handful of bodyguards.

So, Jesus’ audience would have laughed and cheered this tough old lady who did not despair, who did not deflate, but who held onto the tenacious belief that her rights indeed mattered and her cause indeed was just, as she used the one power she did have, which was the power to refuse to give up.

This, Jesus says, is how we should pray. This is a parable about praying, and praying, and praying … for what? For the justice we yearn for God to grant.

This kind of prayer is not about heavenly bliss in the sweet bye-and-bye. This kind of prayer is not about our desires for a new Mercedes Benz or color TV.

This kind of prayer is about the raw cry for help in the face of grave injustices and horrible wrongs.

This kind of prayer is about the refusal to get numb to those wrongs or to give up hope and trust in God’s vision of a future of peace and justice and dignity for all – the now-and-not-yet of the Realm of Heaven on Earth we glimpse through the person of Jesus, but which is not ours to see fully manifest in the here-and-now. This kind of prayer is about our yearnings for what can be, feeling the agony of contrast with what is, our yearnings that can serve as an umbilical connection to God’s Goodness and Truth and Beauty beyond the anxious limitations of the earthbound imagination…

This isn’t sounding quite so humorous anymore, is it?

I think Jesus started this teaching with a funny story in order to discharge the anxiety that can come up when we think about our deepest yearning for justice in a human world that can be so often disappointing, disillusioning, dispiriting, and downright scary.

This plucky and persistent widow did not let anxieties rule her. She did not let fear of failure forestall her efforts. She was willing to risk all of the ways that this powerful man could have not just dismissed her, but actively made her life a whole lot worse than it already was. (Anger plus power equals danger.) But no, our model for prayer threw caution to the wind and persisted and wore out the opposition, and won.

So too are we to pray to God about the injustices that we yearn to be remedied. 

So too are we to go for broke, with nothing to lose, in pleading before God, in trusting that our persistence will pay off, according to the goodness and mercy of God. Some way, somehow, somewhere, some when.

But, really, how? And when? “How, long, O Lord!” as the Psalm cries in the face of all that could make one despair. (Psalm 13)

Is that fair to ask? Is that missing the point?

One widespread way Christians are often taught to understand what Jesus is saying here, is to that all we need to do is pray about the things in this world that trouble our conscience and convict our sense of what is right and fair and just. Pray to God, and trust that God will help if we are deemed worthy to be among “the chosen.” And leave it at that.

In other words: pray about it, but don’t act on it; be private and passive about your concerns, not public and active; it’s in God’s hands, after all, not ours.

Is that really what Jesus is saying?

I think it would be really bizarre for Jesus to tell this charmingly triumphant story about this plucky down-on-her-luck widow, lifting her as a model of persistence, only to turn around and say that she is in fact wrong for actually badgering the judge to render her justice; that she should have just prayed about it and trusted that somehow God would magically tickle the conscience of this sociopath. If that is what Jesus meant, if Jesus were in fact critical of this woman’s lack of faith, he would have said so. Jesus was always very clear about these things.

Instead – beginning, middle, and end – this widow is the hero of Jesus’ parable.  The implication is that the dynamo of her chutzpa was in fact the fervency of her prayers. She was praying day and night about the wrong done to her, and following God’s guidance about how to dare attempt to remedy the injustice. The outcome is a surprising victory, something we can cheer with delight. We can well imagine that afterward she prayed in fervent thanks to God for the gift.

Now, we all well know that justice is not always done in this sin-sick world. Sometimes it even seems that it is rare. And if this judge were really a savvy modern-day politician, after he relented to the widow’s demands, he would have capitalized on it by getting his social media team to make a big deal out of his charitable ruling, and expect a big prize for it, all while quietly putting into place some policy that will eventually take back from the widow whatever it is that she got. Call me cynical.

Yet still we must not become dis-spirited or dis-heartened.  What happens when we don’t let our yearning numb out and disappear in despair or cynicism, but continually bring them before God in prayer? We are fed in our hope. We are fed in our determination. We are fed in our vision for how we can indeed act in the here and now to do our part, faithfully, humbly, with love, with courage.

As the Prophet Micah said, “What does the Lord require of you but to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God.” (Micah 3:8).

Ultimately our faith and our hope must be in God alone, and not in human powers, even our own.  Through Christ as the embodiment of Divine love in human form, crucified and resurrected, we find the promise of the day when the Realm of Heaven indeed is fully manifest on Earth.

In the meanwhile, in this fragile and fallen realm we will face setbacks and disappointments and tragic loss … as well as breakthroughs of love and new life and renewed possibility of a more loving and just and merciful and generous and abundant way of life. The fact of the matter is that, for all there is to be upset about, in many ways things have overall been getting better: in the past decades globally there have been astonishing advances in human rights – there is less extreme poverty, less violence, advances in gender equality, lower rates of infant mortality, rising life expectancy, greater reach of education and literacy. This has only come because of many people working faithfully and diligently toward a greater vision, fed by a knowledge of the inherent worth and dignity of all, willing to persevere despite setbacks and defeats and challenges. This strength comes from a source much greater than any one or any human power.

The heart of all this is faith – in God.  Any good that comes, comes because of God, despite our human limitations.

When we are grounded in honest prayer with our God of our ultimate hope, this can help us to persevere in trying to do what is right and good regardless of likelihood of success, humbly knowing our own limitations of goodness and virtue and knowledge. 

So, my friends, let’s be heartened by the words of the Rabbi Tarfon, from the late 1st and early 2nd century CE: “Do not be daunted by the enormity of the worlds grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.”

We’re allowed to have a good sense of humor along the way.  Thanks be to God.

Delivered Sunday, October 19th 2025, by Rev. Nathaniel Mahlberg, at the United Church of Christ at Valley Forge.