Judge Judy vs. Judge Jesus, Twenty-Second Sunday After Pentecost, October 20, 2013, Luke 18.1-8

            In Relfections on the Psalms, C. S. Lewis comments insightfully on the cultural key to the Parable of the Unjust Judge: "There is no danger of appearing in his court against your will: the difficulty is the opposite - to get into it."

The poor woman has had her little strip of land - room for a pigsty and a hen-run - taken away from her by a richer and more powerful neighbor. And she knows she has a perfectly watertight case. If once she could get it into court and have it tried by the laws of the land, she would be bound to get that strip back. But no one will listen to her, she can't get it tried. No wonder she is anxious for "judgment."

            Anxious indeed: The Greek word for judgment, vindication, righteousness appears in some form five times in this compact plot. (v.3,5,6,7,8) Recall Absalom's pickup line as he seduces Israel to rebellion: "See, your claims are good and right, but no man listens to you on the part of the king." (2 Sam 15.3)

            Jesus here uses antithesis to portray a God active and aggressive on behalf of the powerless. Our Lord holds out the hope of a world where the evicted homeowner finally mounts the witness stand while the CEOs of Freddy and Fanny slouch in the dock. Prayer Mirandizes the marginalized: It pays the divine retainer for the best Mouthpiece in the profession and the Almighty places it only at the disposal of those who have no other hope.

            The context of this story, coming as it does in the slipstream of a prophecy of judgment (17.22-37), expands its meaning beyond the very valid application to private prayer. When God lifts up the gavel the voices of the murdered cry from their mass graves against the dictators who slew them silently and out of sight. When God calls the court to order the unheard cries of unborn infants finally wail in the ears of a society that chose sterile and surgical convenience over the incalculable costs of life. When God unseals humanity's indictment the tortured creation finds a human tongue to tell truth to industrial exploitation.

            So rejoice! God's courtroom takes the shape of a cross and Calvary promises that we will not forever cool our heels in the anterooms of authority. But lest this parable trick us into sinking back on the luxury of our own merits, Jesus swiftly picks up the favorite theme of the previous parable as he launches into the next: "He also told this parable to some people who trusted in themselves that they were righteous." I dare not come into the courtroom of eternity with any evidence apart from the saving grace of God.

What Can Wash Away My Sin?

Doug