Let me tell you about a hero of mine.
Her name is Mary McAnena. I’m pretty sure I’ve told you about her before, although I did a quick search through all the sermons I’ve preached here and her name didn’t appear in the search results, so maybe I haven’t.
Mary was 86 when I met her. She lived in the city of Orange a few blocks from Chapman University. Every weekday, in her home kitchen, she would prepare enough food to feed over a hundred people. Then she would transport that food to a park a few blocks away and feed the hungry and homeless who gathered there.
Each day of the week, she had a team of helpers. I was part of the team that helped out every Friday. I walked to Mary’s house right after my classes were over, and when I arrived, other volunteers were already at work.
The potatoes were cooking, and when I arrived, it was my job to mash all those potatoes and mix them up with some butter, milk, salt, pepper, and a few raw eggs.
It was how Mary taught us. Some of us doubted the wisdom of throwing in raw eggs, but Mary insisted that if you did it quick enough, the potatoes were hot enough that the eggs would cook while they were mashed in. Anyway, no one ever got sick, and they did taste pretty good, though these days I don’t put raw eggs into my mashed potatoes.
And then it was my job to carry the giant pots of mashed potatoes and whatever other food items that had been prepared and load them into the car trunks. We drove all that food down to the park, set it out on the tables… and right at 2:00, Mary would have everyone who wanted to eat line up.
There were a couple of things Mary insisted on. Everyone had to stand in a straight line, and they had to be quiet while Mary said grace. I can still hear her voice with its heavy Irish accent saying the blessing: “Bless us O Lord, and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty, through Christ our Lord.”
If anyone wasn’t lined up straight and wasn’t quiet for the prayer, Mary would come after them. We often had some clothes to give away, and Mary would grab one of the shoes and raise it over her head as if she was going to hit someone. I never did see her hit someone, but boy, was she fierce.
Her fierceness was rooted in love. The rest of us volunteers worried about her getting so worked up at her age, but nothing was going to stop Mary from doing what she thought was right, and doing it the way she thought was right, and it didn’t seem to have much of an effect on her health, as Mary lived to be 100 years old.
When she passed away, the Orange County Register called her a “forceful but gentle woman… who campaigned tirelessly for the homeless.”
I can so easily picture Mary as the widow in today’s scripture. Her persistence, her fierceness, her tireless efforts, are a perfect match.
The widow in the scripture kept coming to this judge and demanding that he grant her justice.
I don’t picture her coming to this judge meekly, quietly, politely asking him to grant her request. “Um, excuse me, sir, but, if it pleases you, could you hear my case, and grant me justice?”
No. That’s not how it happened!
I picture her storming through town to confront this judge. I picture her, if the judge’s door was closed, pounding on that door so forcefully that the judge would jump out of his seat, spill his coffee, step on the dog, yell at the dog to stop barking, then yell at the window, and yell at the sky…
You know abuelita in the movie Coco? Who intimidates the entire town with her cries of “NO MUSIC!” She also could play the role of the widow in today’s Bible story. But instead of yelling “NO MUSIC,” she yells at the judge, “GRANT ME JUSTICE!”
And, like Mary McAnena - and like Abuelita - the widow in the scripture probably has a shoe in her hand, ready to slap the judge or throw it at him.
And the judge - well, he has no compassion, and he could care less about this crazy woman’s desire for justice; but, nevertheless - because she is so persistent, so fierce, so intimidating - he eventually grants her request. After all, he’s tired of the interruptions, the spilled coffee - and, let’s face it: this widow scares him. “This woman is going to wear me out!” he says in the scripture. “She’ll be the death of me!”
In fact, there’s a footnote in the scripture - you should always pay attention to the footnotes - and this footnote lets us know that it’s possible that what the judge really said was, “she’s going to slap me in the face!” I will grant her justice, so that she won’t come and slap me in the face!
That’s actually in the Greek.
The judge didn’t want to grant her justice, but he eventually did - not because of the prayers she may or may not have prayed while sitting quietly in her room, but because of her persistent, fierce action.
However, when Luke included this parable in his gospel account, Luke prefaced it with an introduction. And in that introduction, Luke wrote that this parable is about the need to pray always, and not lose heart.
What a strange thing for Luke to write! Because in the parable itself, there is no mention of prayer, and it’s not because of this widow’s prayer that the unjust judge finally grants her justice.
But because Luke put that introduction in, sometimes we read this story and we conclude that we must be persistent in prayer the way this widow is persistent in getting the unjust judge to grant her the justice she deserves.
Luke’s introduction - saying that this parable is about prayer - changes how we interpret the parable. Because: is it really about prayer?
Too often, the church has encouraged people to pray quietly, without raising a ruckus, without rocking the boat. Too often, church leaders have even used this parable to encourage people to just keep praying, quietly…
Don’t cause a scene, just keep praying. Don’t go out and march for justice, just keep praying. Don’t try to regulate guns, just keep sending your thoughts and prayers. Don’t push for legislative changes that address climate change, don’t worry about your carbon footprint, just keep sending hurricane victims your thoughts and prayers.
This parable has been taught that way, but is that really what this parable is saying?
Can you picture the widow in this story behaving that way? Just sitting quietly in her room, praying for justice, hoping and wishing that justice will be granted to her, but not actually doing anything to make justice a reality?
No! She’s going to go out and do something about it. She’s going to take action. She’s going to march right down to the judge’s house and demand justice!
I don’t doubt that she did pray - but she didn’t stop there. Prayer alone is not enough. When we pray, and we ask God to grant us justice, to grant us peace, to grant us healing,... if we listen, we can always hear God asking us to grant justice to those who need it, to make peace in our world, and to be agents of healing, for ourselves, our neighbors, and our world.
As Pope Francis said, that’s how prayer works: “you pray for the hungry…and then you feed them.”
You pray for justice, and then you work to make justice happen.
You pray for peace, and then you work for peace.
You pray that your rights will be protected, and then you march and fight for your rights.
Prayer is powerful. When God’s people unite in prayer, miracles can happen. But prayer must be accompanied by action.
That’s why, this afternoon, several of us are participating in the CROP walk, which raises money and awareness for the work of Church World Service.
You may not know it, but we already support the work of Church World Service every day. Week of Compassion partners with Church World Service in responding to various needs around the world.
But Church World Service is larger than just our church. Many churches, many denominations, and many religions support the work of Church World Service. It’s a way for us all to work together; and when we work together, we can accomplish far more than working by ourselves.
And the work and ministry of Church World Service involves providing aid and assistance to refugees and immigrants and those affected by natural and manmade disasters all around the world.
We often pray for an end to hunger. We often pray that God will look favorably upon refugees and those affected by catastrophe. But we’re also doing something about it.
And when we gather with others in a united effort, the world notices. We know that a lack of justice in our world contributes to and exacerbates the struggles these people face, and we draw attention to that. It’s our way of knocking on the doors of the world’s leaders, and demanding justice.
Because the leaders of the world, like the unjust judge, are often slow to grant justice. There are many who, because of their race, their gender, their sexual orientation or gender identity; because of the slavery of their ancestors or the genocide committed against their ancestors; who have waited for generations for justice.
So we, the church, are praying for justice, but we’re also marching for justice. We’re getting feisty (in a nonviolent way), so that peace and justice can prevail upon the earth and all that lives in it…
Luke said that this parable is about prayer. Well, maybe it is.
But prayer doesn’t always happen with our heads bowed and our eyes closed.
Sometimes we pray with our feet.
Sometimes we pray by how we vote.
Sometimes we pray by how we spend our money.
Sometimes we pray by the way we show love to our neighbor.
Sometimes we pray by being persistent, and getting a little feisty.
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