It's true that Jesus' parable of the widow and unjust judge is introduced as being about the "need to pray always and not lose heart." But there's another theme in this parable that is at least as prominent. A widow kept pestering a judge saying, "Give me justice against my adversary." Eventually the judge says, "I will give this widow justice because she keeps bothering me." Jesus then says, "Won't God provide justice to his chosen people who cry out to him day and night? I tell you," Jesus promises, "He will give them justice quickly."How many of you feel that when you have suffered injustice that you received justice quickly? How many of you have suffered a harm that feels too deep for justice to even be possible? How many of you have gritted your teeth and stayed quiet because it seemed that raising your voice against something you were convinced was wrong wouldn't correct the wrong?
So, how do we reconcile the apparent disconnect between the quick justice that God promises, and the appearence of justice delayed or even denied? Perhaps it depends on whose justice we're talking about: our justice or God's justice.
Our sense of justice seems to be based on the concepts of vindication and satisfaction. We want to be proven right, and that our adversary is wrong. We want to win the debate. We look for someone who has the authority to declare us to be right. Or we canvass for enough votes to declare us to be right. That works fine; provided that our adversary doesn't find some other authority figure to trump our chosen figure; or doesn’t run a better campaign than we do. Perhaps we might even win the last appeal, or the election. Then we can congratulate ourselves on our vindication, while our adversary is left to sulk in resentment over their perceived injustice left denied. Or we might be the ones left to grit our teeth and mourn our loss.
Sometimes our sense of justice demands satisfaction. We have suffered a loss, and that loss must be compensated. So, we seek “satisfaction” for what we have lost. That works in those cases where the loss can be quantified, usually in dollars. When the loss is emotional, satisfaction is a little harder to come by. How much does a broken heart cost: or a body that can never be fully healed?
God’s justice, on the other hand, is perfect, for God is perfection, right? And we’re not, nor will we ever be. So, what good is perfection? Well, in another time, the word, “perfect,” didn’t mean, “without error,” so much as, “complete,” and “fully developed.” So, in truth, God’s justice is complete. None of us can see our adversary as God sees them. We cannot see how the past has hardened them. We cannot see into their conflicted hearts. How often have we tried to articulate the discontents of our own hearts, only to have the right words slipping the fingers in our minds? If we can’t even see clearly the truth in ourselves, how can we expect to see it in others?
But God sees. God’s sight is complete. God sees every painful memory, every secret scar of the heart. God sees every person’s wounded past. God understands that sometimes we do need to be vindicated, that we do need to be satisfied. There is nothing wrong with crying to God day and night for vindication and satisfaction. But if that’s where justice ends, then the world will forever be a place of triumphant winners and sulking losers. But that is not what God wants for any of the children he made and loves. In his perfect justice, God seeks to heal every hurt, every loss, so that all find vindication, satisfaction, and reconciliation.
It was two years ago that I was discerning with the Search Committee whether God was calling me to Christ Church, Albertville, I’m sure that they noticed my personal ministry statement: “Through preaching, formation, pastoral care and worship, I seek to equip the saints to carry on Christ's work of reconciliation in the world.” I believe with all my heart that what God in his justice wants for all human beings is reconciliation with God and each other.
How does that happen? Ultimately, the work of reconciliation is what Jesus does through us. So, how we get there is not in any blueprint we have access to. But we know where it has to start. Today’s parable is not one that Jesus tells the curious public still trying to make up its mind about Him. He is speaking to his followers, his students, his disciples. He is speaking to us. We who call ourselves Christians may sometimes wonder if God’s justice is quick enough. We who call ourselves Christians may not know how we will get to a reconciled church, much less a reconciled world. But with the risen Jesus as close to us as the bread and wine, be sure that God’s justice and reconciliation starts with us. And we don't have to be perfect. We only have to trust that in God's good time, our reconciliation will be complete.
The image is of the Statue of Reconciliation, by Josefina de Vasconcellos. It sits amid the ruins of Coventry Cathedral, which was destroyed by German air forces during the Second World War. A replica of this statue was donated by the people of Coventry to the peace garden of Hiroshima.
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