Sam Bush, “How To Get What You Want”
Here’s a question for you: how do you get what you want? We all want various things, but what is your method for getting those things? Do you have a strong work ethic? Do you take life by the horns and strong-arm your way to success? Maybe you're the more deferential type - you sweet talk to win others over. Maybe you use psychological warfare (a popular strategy with my children). Maybe you take on a superstitious approach and appeal to the fates or manifest your dreams. People use all kinds of tactics but most do whatever it takes.
In our gospel reading, Jesus tells a story to show us how to get what we want. The story has two main characters who would have been on opposite ends of society. The first is a judge who, Jesus says, “neither feared God nor had respect for people.” This is not a high-minded magistrate, but a corrupt kingpin who lined his pockets with bribes on the sly. The second character is a widow. It’s important to know that, in the Old Testament, God commanded his people to care for two groups of people - widows and orphans - because those two groups were the most vulnerable and utterly powerless. If a woman’s husband died and if she did not have any sons, she would have zero rights in a court of law. So one character is as crooked as a dog’s hind leg and the other does not have a leg to stand on.
Somehow the widow gets a hearing with the judge. She submits her request, waits for her court date. When the day arrives she approaches the bench and says “Grant me justice against my opponent!” We could easily assume that someone has taken advantage of her, that she has been wronged and seeks retribution, but Jesus does not explain her predicament. She is not in the story because she is innocent. She is in the story because she is powerless.
And what happens? The judge shrugs her off. Next! You can’t really blame him. The widow has nothing of value to offer this judge. She has no money or social capital, no pull at the local university to help get his son get accepted. He has no reason to care.
But then what does she do? She studies his morning commute, intercepts him at the bakery by the courthouse. She loiters outside his gated manor. She calls him during dinner. She persists until he breaks. “Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone,” he says, “yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out.” Other translations say “so that she will not give me a black eye” or “come and strike me in the face.” So, apparently, that’s how you get what you want. Thanks for coming to church, everybody!
It’s nice to have a happy ending. It’s always nice for the underdog to win. But, to interpret this as a triumph of the human spirit is to miss this parable completely. This story is not about a woman taking matters into her own hands, but a woman who is empty handed. She is Jesus’ hero not for her determination but for her desperation.
According to Luke, this parable is about prayer. So what, are we to nag God until he breaks, faithfully filibuster until we get what we want? In the fifth century, St. Augustine had a wealthy parishioner named Anicia Proba who asked him how to pray. This was his first rule of thumb: “You must account yourself ‘desolate’ in this world, however great the prosperity of your lot may be.” In other words, no matter how successful or powerful or popular you are, you must recognize that you are completely powerless over your life.
This is what the widow understood that is hard for us to understand. Do you know how much humility it took for her to keep asking this awful, slimy judge? It cost her her pride, it cost her her self-respect, it cost her everything. Jesus is not saying “Never give up!” He’s saying “Always give up! As soon as you can! Give up your sense of control, your status, your respectability! Give it up completely!” Praying on one’s knees is a fitting posture because it shows that we, like the widow, do not have a leg to stand on.
From that posture, you may see your desires in a different light. You may realize your deepest needs. In her 1960 novel The Listener, Taylor Caldwell writes, “The most desperate need of men today is not a new "way of life." He will not die if he does not get "better housing" or more vitamins. He will not expire of frustration if he is unable to buy the brightest and newest gadgets, or if all his children cannot go to college. He can survive on a small amount of bread and in the meanest shelter. He always did. His real need, his most terrible need, is for someone to listen to him, not as a "patient," but as a human soul. He needs to tell someone what he thinks, of the bewilderment he encounters when he tries to discover why he was born, how he must live, and where his destiny lies.”
More than any creature comforts, we need someone to listen to us. Whatever is in our heart of hearts. Our fears, our anger, our envy, our pain, our doubt, our secrets. They need an outlet. They need to be transferred. Thankfully, there is one who always listens. Not a crooked judge but a judge who is both just and merciful, who holds never-ending office hours. Where exactly is his office? As we like to say, his office is at the end of your rope.
There was a recent article from Christianity Today which profiles a Japanese minister named Yoichi Fujiyabu who pastors Shirahama Baptist Christ Church off the southern coast of Japan. Near the church is a majestic cliff that overlooks the ocean which, although beautiful, has become an infamous suicide spot. Japan has the highest suicide rate among developed countries. But on this cliff is a public phone booth that works as a rescue network run by the church. Outside the booth is a sign that says Telephone of Life along with a line from Isaiah 43: “You are precious and honored in my sight. I love you” and a phone number. Yoichi Fujiyabu gets a call three to five times a month. Over the past three decades he has helped rescue 1,100 people and keeps a detailed record of each person.
Late one night Yoichi’s phone rings. When he answers, on the other end, a trembling voice whispers in Japanese: “Please … help.” He grabs his keys, jumps into his car, and speeds into the night. The article says, “The headlights cut through the suffocating darkness. There, a lone figure emerges in the beam. Yoichi steps out of the car. The ground crunches beneath his feet as he walks toward a shadow before him.” After locating the caller, he then guides them back to the backseat of his car and listens to the person’s story.
Wherever you have given up - on your dreams, on yourself, on life itself - know that God will never give up on you. He is here, to listen to you, to shine a light through the suffocating darkness and to rescue you. What does God want? He doesn’t want your piety, he wants your panic. He wants your sin. He wants your despair. Whatever you have to throw at him. He wants you. He’ll do whatever it takes to get you. Toward the end of this passage Jesus says, “Will not God grant justice to his chosen ones? Will he delay long in helping them?” What does he mean? That God will make all your dreams come true? No. Keep in mind we’re four chapters away from the angry mob and kangaroo court that sentenced Jesus to death. He is the righteous judge who was struck in the face and given a black eye, who had no leg to stand on when he was lifted up on the Cross to die in order to bring justice between us desolate sinners and a most holy God. The story of our salvation is not one of human triumph but of God’s sacrifice. He rescues you by refusing to rescue himself.
So how do you get what you want? You need not answer because it’s already been given to you. “Take eat, this is my body, given for you. Drink this, all of you, this is my Blood of the New Covenant which is shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.” After all is said and done, who could ask for anything more?
Amen.