At my first church, one of the members had a saying that rang true for me as soon as I heard it.  “Remember,” she would say, “it’s a legal system, not a justice system.”  So true!  We are blessed with a marvelous legal system in the United States.  But it is NOT always a justice system.  This week I checked the National Registry of Exonerations, run by three highly regarded law schools, and they catalog of the stories of people who were convicted in U. S. courts for serious crimes, and later had their convictions overturned when new evidence became available.  Guess how many exonerations there have been since 1989, when they began their research and reporting?  3,049!  Now I know that’s a small percentage compared to all the criminal cases in the last thirty-three years or so.  As I said, we are blessed with a marvelous legal system in our country.  But what if it was you or your loved one wrongly convicted?  The average of these people spent 9 years in jail before lawyers working on their behalf were able to obtain “justice” for them.  I say justice, but really, what does justice look like if you were innocent all along and spent 9 years of your life in jail?  It’s a legal system for sure.  But it is NOT always a justice system.

If it were your loved one wrongly convicted, to what length would you go to get justice for them?  Every mother I know would begin to look like the widow in our parable today, who kept coming to the judge with the plea, “Grant me justice against my adversary.”  In telling us this story, Jesus gives us a couple of important details.  First, he described the judge as unjust.  The judge neither feared God nor cared about people. He was not a Jew.  He was a pagan, appointed by the Roman authorities.  This judge likely bought his way onto the bench, and was interested in status and power much more than justice.  And second, Jesus tells us that for a long while, the judge refused the widow’s appeals.  But eventually he was worn down.  He was finally motivated to act, not based on what was right or wrong, but on his own convenience.  That’s not much of a justice system, or a legal system!  The only law at work seems to be the whim of the judge.

According to Luke, Jesus tells this parable to give us a dramatic contrast to what God’s nature is like.  First of all, God is righteous.  And second, God does not act on a whim.  God hears our prayers, God cares about our plight, and we can trust God to act swiftly on our behalf.  If the widow could get justice from an unjust judge, how much better should we expect to get what we need from our Almighty God!

But then Luke records Jesus asking a very curious question.  This is what God is like:  attentive, fair and reliable.  However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?  In other words, are we attentive, fair, and reliable?  Are we focused on what really matters?  Or is faith more of a whim to us?

What an interesting parable to read on Palm Sunday, which is also called Passion Sunday because in many churches, we not only try to cover what happened on Palm Sunday, we try to cover what happened all of Holy Week, so that when we meet again next week for Easter, we have spent some time remembering Jesus’ arrest, trial, death, and burial.  It’s a lot to cover in one Sunday!  It is the one Sunday of the year when we put aside our rule of making every Sunday a celebration of the Resurrection.  This week, we insert a pause.  We will leave the story unfinished, and it will feel uncomfortable.  For the next 168 hours or so, we will stay stuck in this discomfort, until we meet again next week to rejoice in the resurrection.  Today, we remember all the petitioning widows in the world, and all the unjust judges, and all those who wait for things to be made right.  Today, we remember all those who long for the kingdom of heaven to be realized on earth.  Today, we feel deeply the contrast between the light of God’s love and the darkness of the world.

One snapshot of that contrast can be seen in the crowds Luke describes.  Between the crowds who shouted, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord”, in chapter 19 and the crowds who just as passionately demanded, “Crucify him!” in chapter 23.  Talk about a whim!  One day they loved Jesus.  Couldn’t get enough of him.  Five days later, they hated him.  Couldn’t get rid of him quick enough.  Maybe our faith doesn’t swing so wildly.  But who among us can say our faith is as steadfast, our service as constant, our giving as generous, our obedience as steady as we’d like?  Jesus told the parable of the widow who, day in and day out, worked for what was right.  May we become more like her!

But there’s something bothering me about both of these stories—the parable Jesus told, and the Holy Week account Luke provides for us.  In both cases, why was there no one standing with the person in need of justice?  Why did they have to make their plea alone?  I wonder if Jesus had his own coming situation in mind when he told the parable of the widow and the unjust judge.  She eventually got the justice she was due, no thanks to her neighbors or family or friends.  Why weren’t they there to advocate for her all along?  I hate it that she had to stand alone.  Jesus had no advocate, no companions, not a friend in the room when he was questioned by both Pilate and Herod.  I hate it that he had to stand alone.  And I wonder, where is there a need for justice, where we can help?  With whom is God calling us to stand today?

Justice is a very difficult topic for us.  When injustice exists, there are always those who benefit from it, and of course, they don’t want to hear how they may be advantaged.  It’s like that old saying, Jesus came to comfort the afflicted, and afflict the comfortable.  In this parable, Jesus comforts the afflicted—he urges them to trust in God, to take heart, to trust that God is indeed with them and for them.  But in this parable, Jesus also offers a challenge, he afflicts the comfortable.  Without giving a lecture, or singling anyone out, he invites us to consider how we might be like the unjust judge, the person who is standing in the way of someone else’s justice.

I like how author Madeline L’Engle put it, “When I am grappling with ideas which are radical enough to upset grownups, then I am likely to put these ideas into a story which will be marketed for children because children understand what their parents have rejected and forgotten.” (from Walking on Water:  Reflections on Faith and Art) When Jesus was grappling with ideas likely to upset grownups, he was likely to put these ideas into parables, so those who were open to seeing and learning new things would be moved into deeper levels of discipleship.

Last week Phil and I were in Chicago, and we spent a day at the Museum of Science and Industry.  They devote almost a whole floor of the museum to the environment, and we watched a powerful video about the ways climate change is impacting our world.  It’s as if creation itself is the widow in our parable, demanding justice, demanding we make changes to prevent further harm.  Will we listen?  This week I watched the horrific news reports of war crimes committed in Ukraine.  It’s as if the country of Ukraine is the widow in our parable, demanding justice.  Will the world listen?  Recently I looked at the webpage for our United Methodist justice initiatives, umcjustice.org.  There you can find information about how our denomination is working around the world in the areas of economic justice, human rights, health and wellbeing, as well as many other social justice concerns.  It’s as if the whole world is the widow in our parable today, crying out in need of justice.  Will we listen and respond?

One thing is for sure.  Justice takes courage.  In the very early church, there was a man named Cyril of Jerusalem.  He lived from 315 or so to 386 and was appointed Bishop of Jerusalem in the year 350.  Now keep in mind, Christianity had just been declared legal by Constantine in 313.  Orthodoxy—what was right belief verses what was heretical–was still being worked out in Cyril’s lifetime.  Cyril was involved in many of those debates.  But what I found most interesting is that he was accused of selling church property to buy food for starving people in Jerusalem, where there was a serious famine.  Boy did he get in trouble for that!  Apparently one of the things he sold was a robe worn by Constantine himself, which would have been a very valuable item indeed.  He even ended up exiled for this act, which was never proven.  Maybe he was innocent, and did not steal or sell anything, this was all just trumped up by his theological adversaries!  Or maybe he did secretly steal and sell the items, but it was for a very good cause?  We don’t know.  But he experienced injustice and suffering.  He is known for saying, “The journey to heaven leads past the place where the dragons lie.”  The journey to heaven leads past the place where the dragons lie.  In other words, getting to heaven—or anyplace good—means dealing with the unpleasant and the menacing!  There are a lot of scary dragons out there, in between us and the kingdom of heaven.

It takes courage to face those dragons, and even more courage to admit that people like us can even be the dragons.  In our gospel lesson today, it’s easy to point to Pilate and Herod as the dragons who Jesus had to tangle with on his way to Easter Sunday.  But we can also point to the crowds, who were fickle and easily swayed toward evil.  And we can wonder about Jesus’ friends and disciples.  Why did no one stand up or speak up for him?  In his hour of need, the Son of Man found no faith on earth.  Let’s spend the next 168 hours or so thinking about that.  Sit with the images of the persistent widow and the unjust judge. Reflect on the way justice was granted “on a whim”, and how it is just as easy to do injustice on a whim.  Focus on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, and how even though life treated him very, very badly, he was faithful because he loves us.  Are we faithful in return?  Take time for confession, and give thanks that we are not exonerated, but we are forgiven.  As we wait for the resurrection, give thanks for the peace Jesus gives us, peace not based on a flawed legal system, but based on God’s perfect love.  Blessings for this Holy Week ahead.  Amen.

 

 

Benediction:  Our gospel lessons today leave us with many questions to ask ourselves.  Are we like the persistent widow?  The unjust judge?  The fickle crowd?  The missing friends and advocates?  How is God calling us to change and grow today?

 

May we find the road that leads to life;

may we take the turns that bring right relationships;

may we pause to accompany others on the way;

and may we journey with God through this Holy Week,

slowing down for Loving Union.  Amen.