Luke 20:27-38

Some Sadducees, those who say there is no resurrection, came to [Jesus] and asked him a question, “Teacher, Moses wrote for us that if a man’s brother dies, leaving a wife but no children, the man shall marry the widow and raise up children for his brother. Now there were seven brothers; the first married, and died childless; then the second and the third married her, and so in the same way all seven died childless. Finally, the woman also died. In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be? For the seven had married her.”

Jesus said to them, “Those who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage; but those who are considered worthy of a place in that age and in the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage. Indeed they cannot die anymore, because they are like angels and are children of God, being children of the resurrection. And the fact that the dead are raised Moses himself showed, in the story about the bush, where he speaks of the Lord as the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. Now he is God not of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive.”

This story is more than a little strange, so I want to unpack it while it’s fresh in our minds, before we get on with our sermon series and what it means to “Grow in wisdom and understanding of God’s Word and will for our lives.”

See, these Sadducees are either, genuinely ignorant about what they ask Jesus to answer regarding this woman and her dead husbands, or – and what is commonly thought to be the case – they are trying to trick Jesus with an impossible question; baiting him to trip over an explanation about life after death that will likely upset the powers that be, break with their history, challenge their tradition and offend their theology – and, mostly, get him into some trouble.

Jesus doesn’t give them what they’re after, of course. Or, at least he doesn’t trip and fall for what they may have thought was a hard answer to find. What he does is interpret their questions and their confusion in light of the resurrection – nothing more and nothing less.

Jesus says that they’re questions about all they’re supposed to know from Moses and the Hebrew Scriptures are too narrow. When they ask about what will happen to this woman who’s had seven husbands, they’re asking very worldly questions about God’s other-worldliness. They’re assuming that life on the other side of eternity is bound in the same way as life on this side of it all. They’re suggesting that what is restricted by human laws and earthly limitations here and now, will be restricted, in the same way, where the God of the universe is concerned.

And Jesus says, in not so many words, “Do you really think that the God of the universe and the ways of heaven will be constrained by the same parameters of life as we know it?” “This woman – and all of the knuckleheads she was forced to endure in this life – will be liberated, raised to new life, in a way that will release her from all of this, so that these laws you’re so worried about – and this life, even – will be unrecognizable, thanks be to God” “The God we’re talking about – the God of Moses and Abraham and Isaac and Jacob – sets talking bushes on fire, for crying out loud, and yet they aren’t consumed.” “This is the God we’re dealing with, people. So let’s stop with your small questions about a God who’s so much bigger.”

Now, I don’t mean to simplify all of this so dramatically, but I also don’t think this is as difficult as we’ve made it out to be. Because the truth is, Christian people in the world, still like to play games with God’s word, very much like the Sadducees back in Jesus’ day, and when we do – so much of the time – God gets the small, short end of that stick.

So, like we’ve said, we’re beginning this sermon series with a call to “Grow in wisdom…” wisdom and understanding of God’s Word and God’s will for our lives. In the weeks to come, we’ll get to the other marks of discipleship – sharing our resources, telling people about God, praying daily, worshiping regularly, and giving of our time and abilities. But today, we’re starting with Scripture… and our call to grow in wisdom of what we find in the Bible, which is supposed to inform and inspire all the rest. And I’m under the impression most Christian people wish they knew their Bible better – me, included. Do you agree?

When I’ve asked this question of others before, I’ve heard all kinds of responses. Some have said they feel like they’re missing out on things they would have, should have, could have learned over the course of their life, but they just weren’t taught or weren’t ready or weren’t paying attention when they had the chance. Some have said they just don’t have the time it takes – but if they did… when they do… they look forward to knowing more. Some have said it’s just too much, just too confusing; that there are just too many ways to come after it all, they wonder if it’s worth it. Some have said they want to know more so they can have more intelligent conversations and win theological debates at work or over Thanksgiving dinner. (You know who you are, you Saducees, you!) Some have said that’s what they have Pastors for – to do the studying and interpreting and understanding for them.

But I want people to study their Bibles, to “grow in wisdom and understanding” of what we find there, for those water cooler conversations and at Thanksgiving Dinner and whenever we duke it out with the Sadducees, if we must. But I want people to study their Bibles and to “grow in wisdom,” because it can give you life and it can change your life and it can impact the way we engage the world, through our faith, of course.

Like, I think it’s important to know there are two different accounts of creation, in the book of Genesis, which is not a science book, because it liberates us to read each of those stories in their own right, as artistic, poetic, beautiful expressions of a loving God’s creation, and of our role as a part of that. And – for me – it means I don’t have to check my brain – and all the things I learned in science class – at the church door.

I think it’s important, too, to know that “money is not the root of all evil,” as some so often misquote that verse from 1st Timothy. But the love of money is the root of all evil. I think that matters because, if we dare to love our money less, it might impact how generous we are with our Building Fund commitments next week. It might also impact the way we love our neighbor as ourselves and vote and inform public policy. (It should never be just about “the economy, stupid,” as the saying goes.)

And when it comes to growing in wisdom of what we find in the Bible, I think it matters that the story of Sodom and Gomorrah was never meant to condemn homosexuality; it matters that “an eye for an eye” is not a justification for the death penalty or for revenge and retribution at all costs; it matters that “where two or three are gathered in my name” has nothing to do with justifying low worship attendance or skipping church; and it matters that when Paul said, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” he was facing imprisonment and a death sentence, not hoping to win a football game.

What I’m getting at is, “Growing in wisdom and understanding of God’s Word and will for our lives” stands to have a great impact on how we live and move and breathe and engage our faith through Scripture.

And it takes time. And effort. And conversation. And discussion and discernment in the company of other believers. But it’s not rocket science, either. And I think it’s something like what Jesus was saying to the Sadducees in this morning’s Gospel.

If you’ve been to the bathroom around here, you’ve likely seen this hanging on the door to your stall or above a urinal:

In this cartoon, Jesus might as well be speaking to the same group of Sadducees who confronted him this morning when he says: “The difference between me and you is, you use scripture to determine what love means and I use love to determine what scripture means.”

Let’s Grow in wisdom his way, shall we? Let’s read and receive and interpret and inspire others with God’s word – always and only through the lens of love, the way Jesus did.

Growing in wisdom and understanding of God’s Word and will for our lives is about learning of God’s love for us, and of God’s love for all people, at all costs. And it’s about learning of our call to love God – and each other, back – in as many ways as we can manage. And it’s about the freedom and joy and new life we’ll experience when we do, because of the freedom and joy and new life we are promised, in Jesus’ name, the Word of God, made flesh, who died and who was raised, for the sake of the world.

Amen

Luke 18:1-8

Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart. He said, “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Grant me justice against my opponent.’ For a while he refused; but later he said to himself, ‘Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.’” And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”

Our dog, Stella, is the first dog I’ve ever had who has very clear expectations about meal time. She expects breakfast very early in the morning, as shortly as possible after the feet of the first human out of bed, hit the floor. Usually that’s Christa. And Stella expects to eat again at 5 o’clock in the evening, and not a minute later. BUT, she starts to ask for dinner anytime around 4 o’clock every. single. day. Like clockwork.

And this is new to me. Every other dog I’ve ever had was good about eating whenever there was food in the dish. I just had to fill the dish whenever I saw it empty. My other dogs would always just eat when they were hungry. There was never any waiting or begging or scarfing down every kibble of food as soon as it was offered up, as though it may never show up again.

But Stella is relentless. Like I said, as soon as someone’s out of bed in the morning she’s at their feet. And if you don’t rise early enough, she is sitting at your bedside staring and snorting and whining until you get the hint. And she’s as accurate as an atomic clock when 5 p.m. rolls around, too. Starting an hour or so ahead of time, she paces in the kitchen and stares you down and gets very excited whenever you get anywhere near the door to the garage where her food is kept. And, whether it’s morning or evening, she never leaves a crumb or a kibble behind. She gobbles it up, all in one sitting. Usually followed by a satisfied, victorious, ceremonial belch.

So, I thought about Stella and her relentless, persistent, twice-daily ritual begging when I read Jesus’ parable this morning about the widow and the judge.

Jesus uses the example of this poor widow and the Godless judge to say, in effect, “if a guy like this judge – who had no fear of God and zero respect for anyone – would respond to the requests of a nagging widow, shouldn’t we expect at least the same, if not more, from the God of our creation?”

And, many of us have been where the widow’s coming from in this morning’s Gospel, I know. We’ve begged. We’ve pleaded. We’ve stated our case. We’ve come back again and again. And like Stella, the dog, we do our best to wear down our Master with persistent prayers and petitions.

But it’s not usually about meal time for most of us, or another bowl of kibble. Sometimes the stuff we wish for – the proverbial “justice” for which we’re crying day and night – is a very big deal. Friends get sick and we pray for their healing. Relationships struggle and we pray for the words or the will or the way to get them back on track again. We worry about our kids and how to love them and lead them and keep them safe in this world. Loved ones die and we pray for strength or hope and miracles, even. Very much like the widow in the parable – and Stella in my kitchen – we feel powerless over so much in the world and in our lives, we feel like all we can do is pray, and pray, and pray; and beg and beg and beg.

And there are plenty of times – we can’t help but admit – that our prayers don’t get answered; times when justice doesn’t come – at least not in time or to our liking. There are times when 5 o’clock comes and goes, but no one is home yet to fill our bowl ... when none of what we pray about and beg for comes to pass.

And those are hard days and rough seasons and I think Jesus knows this. I don’t believe Jesus means to pretend otherwise or to give us an easy answer here. And I don’t think he’s writing a check he can’t cash, as the saying goes, either. But he’s asking us to have faith in that, in spite of ourselves. “But when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?,” he asks.

I wonder if Jesus is inviting us to spend as much time comparing ourselves to the widow in the parable, as we do comparing the unjust judge to the God we worship. I mean, I wonder if Jesus is playing on the status of that widow – or lack of her status, I should say – and suggesting that if someone at the bottom of the social, culural pecking order ultimately gets the justice she deserves, won’t we – chosen ones of God, beloved children of God – won’t we get what we need – and more – ultimately, in the end? And, Jesus is inviting us to cast our eyes beyond the troubles of the day. He’s calling us to look at our time and our trouble through the eyes of the Kingdom he brings, and as promised inheritors of that Kingdom.

In other words, God’s love always wins, and we know it. God’s redemption always saves the day, and we know it. God’s salvation has already come, in fact, through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, who’s telling the story. And we know this.

And because of it, we are welcome to beg and pray and ask and persist and pester and whine and pace and plead like so many widows and dogs; like husbands and wives; like parents and children; like beloved, chosen, Children of God who hurt and need comfort; who are sick and need healing; who are scared and need faith; who are broken and need to be put back together – in God’s time and by God’s grace.

And we are to do that with all the persistence and patience and hope of the nagging widow; and with all the earnestness and expectation of my dog before dinner because, if an unjust judge, like the one in Jesus’ story, will respond to the needs of a widow … and if I my very annoying, needy dog always gets what she’s after … God, the creator and Master of the Universe, will certainly bring the justice … will surely feed the hunger … heal our souls … bind up what’s broken … find what’s lost … see us through … and redeem the whole of our lives and all of creation, too.

We don’t feed Stella every day because begs and bothers us so incessantly. We feed her because we love her and because we know she needs to eat. And so it is with the God we know in Jesus.

It is always close to 5 o’clock for some of us in this world. There is always someone, somewhere running out of words and ways and time and resources for what they need and wondering when or if it will come. And Jesus reminds us that it will come … that, indeed, it already has. By way of his life, death and resurrection our bowl has already been filled, justice has already been served, our cup overflows.

And our calling – and challenge – is to hope in that – at all costs, at all times and in all places – with faith in the grace of God’s love for us, no matter what.

Amen

Marks of Discipleship: GROW in Wisdom

Nevertheless, She Persists (And God Does, Too)