St. Paul’s Church in
Bergen, Jersey City NJ
October 20, 2013
Year C, Proper 24:
The 22nd Sunday after Pentecost
Jeremiah 31:27-34
Psalm 119:97-104
2 Timothy 3:14-4:5
Luke 18:1-8
Spiritual Persistence
As
you might guess, being back here these past few months has brought back lots of
memories of when Sue and I were parishioners at St. Paul’s. Every day I’m
surrounded by reminders of so many generous, wise and faithful people who
played such important roles in my life – people who were especially supportive
when I was making my way along the long and twisting road to ordination.
There
were times along that long and twisting road when I would sometimes get
discouraged. I’d wonder if I had made a big mistake. I’d think it would have been
much easier – and smarter - to have remained a teacher – a job, after all, that
I liked a lot.
There
were times that I would get frustrated by seminary – the commute into the city
every day, the focus on things that often didn’t seem so important to me, the
challenge of belonging to a community where nearly all my classmates lived on
campus and I was one of the few commuters.
There
were times that I’d get frightened about the future. I’d look at the shrinking
size of churches throughout our diocese and wonder if it would really possible
to live my dream of serving as a parish priest. I’d see the long list of men
and women in the ordination process and ask if there really could be enough
jobs for all of these priests.
My
wife Sue was, as always, a huge help and support during those years, helping me
get through challenging and exhausting times.
Many
of you – whether you knew it or not – through your prayers and love helped get
me through.
And
then, there was our rector, David Hamilton.
In
his usual lovably gruff and blunt way, he’d get me to stop worrying and to quit
feeling sorry for myself.
He
had two lines that I must have heard him say to me a hundred times.
The
first was, “There are always good jobs for good people.”
Helpful,
though, to be honest, especially these days, I’m not so sure.
And
the other one was:
“Persistence
is rewarded.”
Persistence
is rewarded.
That’s
something we’re taught in lots of areas of life, isn’t it? When faced with a
challenge, we’re taught to keep plugging away, keep chipping away, keep
working, keep trying…
So,
in school when we’re up against a subject that gives us trouble – let’s say,
math, just as an example – we’re taught to keep studying, ask our teacher for
extra help, get into a study group, work with a tutor.
At
work we’re encouraged to work harder than the next guy or gal, to put in the
extra effort and the extra time, to get in early and stay late, to bring work
home at night and on the weekends.
Persistence
is rewarded.
Well,
sometimes.
The
truth – which is hard for some of us to accept – is that out in the world sometimes
persistence is not rewarded. And sometimes too much persistence can be bad
for us. We can burn out. We can wear out. Too much persistence can hurt us.
Sometimes the time comes to admit that we’ve done all that we can do and just
stop beating our heads against the wall.
In
today’s lesson from the Gospel of Luke, we have a parable about someone whose
persistence was rewarded.
Jesus
tells this little story of the persistent widow coming to the judge repeatedly,
saying, “Grant me justice against my opponent.”
We’re
not told anything about the widow except that she’s a widow and that she’s
persistent. We have no idea if her case has merit. We do know that widows in
the First Century – and, for that matter, in much of the world today – were
extremely weak and vulnerable, dependent on the generosity and support of
children or other relatives.
So,
it’s pretty gutsy for this widow to be persistent.
We
are, however, told a little more about the judge. We’re told that he doesn’t
fear God or respect people. So, it would seem unlikely that this hard and
unfaithful judge is going to show any mercy to the widow no matter how hard she
tries.
There
is some humor in the story, too.
In
the translation I just read the judge says, “…because this widow keeps
bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by
continually coming.”
That’s
a little amusing.
But,
the original Greek is stronger and funnier.
“Keeps
bothering me” can be translated as “keeps beating me.”
And
“wear me out’ can be translated as “give me a black eye.”
So,
we might imagine the widow punching the judge, threatening to give him a black
eye. Maybe a real black eye - or a metaphor for damaging his reputation.
Well,
anyway, the judge gives in to the persistent widow and gives her what she
wants.
The
widow’s persistence is rewarded.
Now,
I can easily imagine other endings of the story. The judge gets fed up and
throws her in jail. The widow’s persistence eventually becomes an obsession and
she’s driven out of her mind, becoming a laughingstock, an embarrassment to her
family, becoming even weaker and more vulnerable.
But,
the point of the parable isn’t to encourage us to be more persistent at school,
or work, or even in court.
Jesus
is teaching us about our relationship with God.
Jesus
ends the parable with a couple of rhetorical questions:
“And
will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night?
Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will grant justice to them.”
Remember
how Luke tipped us off at the start, “Jesus told his disciples a parable about
their need to pray always and not to lose heart.”
Spiritual
persistence is different from persistence in school, at work, or in court.
Spiritual persistence is never really
done on our own.
Spiritual
persistence is always done with God – God who is always calling us, always
reaching out to us, strengthening us.
And
spiritual persistence is what we do together, here in the Christian community.
We
come here from all different places – different geography but also very
different spiritual places. Some of us, right this minute, are worn out and filled
with sadness and dread – regretful or embarrassed about the past, lonely without
people we love or loved, worried about the present and the future.
“How
could I have been so stupid? How will I pay my bills? What will the doctor say?
Where’s God? Things are so bad; I should just throw in the towel and give up.”
And
some of us, right this minute, are filled with joy and hope – grateful for good
choices and exciting opportunities, looking forward to the future, touched by
the love of family and friends.
“I’m
so glad I decided to do this. I’m glad to be able to put away some money for
the future. I’m so thankful the doctor said it was nothing. I feel God so close
to me. I can’t wait to see what happens next.”
And
some of us, I’d guess, are somewhere in between.
But,
wherever we’re coming from – whether it’s a place of sadness and dread, or a
place of joy and hope, or somewhere in between – we come here to persist.
Spiritual
persistence is coming here together to say the prayers, to sing the hymns, to
reach out our hands in peace, to take the Body of Christ into our bodies and into
our hearts.
Spiritual
persistence is coming here so that the joyful and the hopeful can hold up the
sad and the dread-filled – and the sad and the dread-filled can remind the
joyful and the hopeful that we all inevitably experience loss, disappointment
and grief.
Spiritual
persistence is coming here together week after week – times when we really
don’t feel like it and times when we
can’t wait to see the brown shingles of St. Paul’s once again.
Spiritual
persistence is coming here - the sad and the joyful here together - so that
when the Son of Man comes, he will find faith on earth.
Spiritual
persistence – spiritual persistence together right here at St. Paul’s - is always
rewarded.
Just
look around.
Amen.
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