Faith That Won't Let Go

In this message, Pastor Beth explores Jesus’ parable of the persistent widow and the unjust judge, reminding us that faith is what carries us through the “holy in-between”—the time between what is and what will be. Through stories of two modern mothers who turned grief into persistence, we see what faith that won’t let go looks like in real life. This is a message of hope, courage, and trust in God’s justice that is already breaking into the world.

Scripture is read by Todd Clark.

Sermon by Rev. Beth Demme
For more information, visit www.graymumc.org

Transcript

Todd Clark (00:05):

Today's Gospel reading is from Luke chapter 18, one through eight. Then Jesus told them in 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 accuser. For a while he refused, but later he said to himself, though I had 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 out 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, the word of God for the people of God thanks to God,

Rev. Beth Demme (01:14):

Speak to God. May God add a blessing to the reading, hearing, and understanding of this scripture. Amen. So our gospel reading today starts with the words. Then Jesus told them a parable. If that's what Jesus did, then what's just happened? What's come before? Well, just before today's passage, Jesus is teaching his disciples about the kingdom of God. He's asked by a Pharisee, remember, a pharisee is like a good church person, somebody who's really trying hard to be faithful to God and to see themselves as righteous. This is the person who comes early to church and stays late. And so this person asks God, ask Jesus, when is the kingdom of God coming? And Jesus replied, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you, as in the kingdom of God is already among you. And then following that, Jesus gave his disciples a lesson in eschatology.

(02:12):

That's a big church word. And sometimes people say eschatology is about the end times. That's not quite right. Eschatology is about how God will make everything right eventually right in God's own time. And part of that is what we call the second coming when Jesus comes back. So Jesus describes for his disciples what it will be like at his second coming, the coming of the son of man, he says, you know how lightning flashes across the sky, the coming of the son of man will be like that. In other words, God's kingdom though already breaking in here and there, it will come in full. And when it does, we won't miss it. No one will miss it. When it comes in full, it'll be as dramatic as a beautiful lightning storm. Here's the heart of Christian eschatology. God's kingdom is both already here and not yet complete.

(03:14):

We live in that holy in-between holding faith while we wait for the day when God will make everything right. Right after Jesus paints this dramatic eschatological picture about the lightning storm, then Jesus told them a parable about the need to pray always and not to lose heart. So we know that the parable is about what faith looks like in that holy in-between the already, but not yet faith that won't let go while God works to make everything right. The parable that Jesus tells is about a widow who won't stop knocking on the courthouse door and the judge who really, really wants to ignore her but can't. It's as if Jesus is saying, while you wait for that great day, when God's justice flashes across the sky, don't give up, pray, persist, live as if the kingdom has already begun because it has and the widow and the parable.

(04:22):

She has no power, no wealth, no husband, so no one to take care of her. In a patriarchal society, she has no influence. All she has is her voice and she uses it. Day after day, she keeps coming back. She refuses to give up. She refuses to abandon her pursuit of justice. She has a faith that won't let go. Faith that keeps knocking even when that door stays closed. Now, even though we don't know what her case is about, we can relate to her desperation. It's easy to imagine that she's frustrated, she's tired, she's afraid.

(05:04):

You know how I know you can relate to this widow? I bet at some point in your life you have been on hold with Comcast. Have you ever been on hold with Comcast? Yeah. That feeling of powerlessness as you wait, that is a tiny glimpse of what this woman is feeling and experiencing. She's done everything she can, but nothing has changed. No one in power will listen to her. It's easy to imagine her thinking, why should I even bother? This is a waste of time, and that's the ache at the heart of this parable. And that ache isn't confined to one woman's story. It echoes through every generation, through every person who's had to wait for justice and the parable touches that ache. That hurt because when a widow's cry goes unheard, when the person who is charged with upholding justice refuses to care, well then maybe the world really is broken beyond repair.

(06:09):

Jesus names this reality that we all already know. Sometimes justice what's right, it just feels impossibly far away and faith starts to wear thin. You might be feeling that way these days. If so, take heart. Jesus knew we would. Even with the ceasefire in Gaza and the return of many of the hostages, that tension still exists. Russia is still waging war against Ukraine. Here at home, too many people are still waiting for justice and equity that is overdue. Political division continues to fracture communities and families. The government shut down. I dunno if you noticed, but it's lingering, right? If you happen to receive social security, then your cost of living adjustment has been delayed. If like my son, you rely on healthcare subsidies to be able to afford health insurance, you're probably nervous about how you're going to pay your bills next year. If only this parable were an ancient story that we couldn't relate to, wouldn't that be nice?

(07:22):

But instead, we absolutely can relate to it. We still live in a world where cries for justice go unanswered, where people show up day after day, knocking on the door, begging for fairness, for safety, for mercy, and too often their voices are ignored. Think about the single mom who is fighting to keep her housing while her rent continues to go up and her wages stay stagnant. Think about refugees waiting years for their asylum cases to be heard. Think about families grieving, children lost to violence while wondering if anything will ever change. Think about communities who march and vote and pray and still find themselves asking How long? Oh Lord, this ache. It's not just out there, it's in here. We feel it in our own selves too. We pray for healing that doesn't come as quickly as we hope. We pray for peace in our homes, but arguments still flare.

(08:34):

We pray for reconciliation and sometimes it feels like hearts only grow harder. Jesus concludes the parable with this question. When the son of man comes, will he find faith on earth? Will he? It's not a scolding question, it's an honest one. It's a fair one. Jesus knows how our faith can be circumstantial and how it can wane in the face of tough circumstances. Faith can be hard to hold onto when the world feels stuck in the same broken loop. We want to believe that the kingdom of God is among us. We want to catch glimpses of it breaking through. But when like the widow in the parable, like for her justice seems delayed, we might start to wonder, God, are you even paying attention? That's the tension this parable holds. God's justice is promised, and yet it often still feels out of reach. And because we still live in that world, in the widow's world where justice can feel far away.

(09:48):

This morning I want to tell you about two people, two moms actually who have refused to stop knocking. Two women who in their grief and persistence, show us what faith can look like when it won't let go. Two, who are doing what they can to make the world a better safer place. And the first is a woman named Candy Lightner. In 1980, candy faced every parent's worst nightmare, the sudden senseless death of her child and a system that seemed unwilling to care. This is a picture of her 13-year-old daughter Carrie. Carrie was walking to a church carnival with a friend. It was right in their neighborhood. They didn't have far to go, and yet Carrie never made it. A drunk driver swerved into the bike lane where Carrie was walking and hit her with such force that she was thrown 125 feet, almost half a football field. The car never stopped. Carrie died within the hour. Four days later, the driver was found and arrested. It turned out the day before he killed Carrie, he had been arrested for drunk driving and causing a crash. The police kept him overnight, and when they released him the next morning, he left the jail and went straight to the bar. And when he left the bar, he hit and killed Carrie. It was his fifth drunk driving offense in four years, and ultimately he was convicted. He served nine whole months in jail.

(11:30):

When Carrie was hit and killed, her mother Candy could have withdrawn completely. She could have let the injustice and the grief consume her. None of us would've blamed her, but that's not what she did. Instead of letting the tragedy turn her inward, she turned her pain into persistence. Armed with anger and passion, she set out to change the system. She founded Mothers Against Drunk Driving Mad, and she began speaking out for stronger laws for public awareness, for accountability. At the time that Carrie was killed in 1980, drunk Driving was dismissed as sort of, oh, just an accident. Oh, one of those terrible things that happens, but Candy couldn't, wouldn't accept that. So she kept showing up in courtrooms, in legislative sessions, in community meetings, insisting that her daughter's life and the lives of others mattered. And because she didn't give up, laws were changed and attitude shifted.

(12:36):

Countless lives have been saved. Now, I want to be clear about this. You may not be thinking this, but just in case you are, in case you're wondering, I want to be clear about this. God did not cause carrie's death so that candy would found mad. That's not how God works. God grieved with candy over carrie's death. God was right there with her in her heartbreak and God's spirit moved through candy's grief and it awakened something powerful in her, a determination to pursue justice, to protect life, to make sure that no other parent would have to suffer what she had suffered. That's what faith looks like when it refuses to let go Faith, it won't let go. It just keeps showing up. It keeps crying out. It keeps aligning itself with God's heart, the heart that hears every cry and bends the arc of history toward justice.

(13:35):

We don't always see where God's justice is moving. We don't always see how our small acts of persistence and obedience fit into it. But somehow when people like Candy Lightner keep going, when they refuse to let despair have the last word, when they bear witness to the truth that God is still at work, we can be inspired. God is still healing. What's broken, still mending what's been torn, still raising life out of loss. Another mother, Lori, I think her last name is pronounced Alef. Forgive me if I'm mispronouncing that, but Lori Alef, she would come to understand what Candy Lightner had learned as well. Her 14-year-old daughter, Alyssa, was a student at Marjorie Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida on February 14th, 2018. That day, a day meant for love and friendship turned to horror. When a 19-year-old former student came to the school and opened fire, killing 17 people and injuring 18 others, Alyssa was one of those who was killed.

(14:49):

Alyssa was bright, energetic, happy, athletic, a pure ray of sunshine who lit up every room with her warm smile. She was an honor student, a good friend, a winning debater, and a star soccer player, captain of the team. In fact, Alyssa was the kind of girl every mother hopes her daughter will have as a friend. She loved to dance and sing and laugh and play. Now on the soccer field, she was a fierce midfielder who loved to attack the ball but off the field. She loved clothes and makeup and all the sparkly things. Her family says she was the best big sister to her, two younger brothers and a mentor to her younger cousins. The day after Alyssa was shot and killed just 14 years old, the day after she was shot and killed, Lori, her mother stood in front of the cameras and cried out through her tears. How do we allow a gunman to come into our children's school? How do they get through security? What security is there?

(16:01):

It was not only a political speech, it was a lament, the lament of a grieving mother. It was the cry of a mother who refused to give up even when she had lost what mattered most in her grief, Lori founded Make Our School Safe, a nonprofit dedicated to improving school safety and protecting children. She ran for the Broward County School Board and she won From that platform, she continues to work so that other families won't have to experience the same heartbreak that she's had to endure. Again, God didn't cause Alyssa's death. God's heart was breaking with Lori's and God's spirit moved in Lori's grief just as in can's stirring her to keep showing up, to keep crying out, to keep pressing toward justice and mercy like the widow before the unjust judge, Lori would not be silenced like Candy Lightner like Lori Alda. They both showed a faith that wouldn't let go.

(17:09):

The kind of faith that turns grief into courage, heartbreak into action. These two moms, candy and Lori, they're just two modern day examples of the widow in the parable that Jesus told in our gospel reading today, two women who refused to stop knocking on the door of justice. The absence of justice might tempt some to give up, but our faith tells us to keep knocking because God is at work. The trouble in this world persists, but our faith keeps us aligned with God's justice, with God's heart and through our faith, we catch glimpses. Small but holy glimpses of God's kingdom breaking in, we can see how God hears our prayers and responds to the injustice of this world. The good news that Jesus has for us this morning is that God is nothing like the judge in this parable. God is nothing like the unjust judge.

(18:15):

I mean, even the corrupt judge eventually hears the widow's case and Jesus says, if even a no good unjust human, eventually relents and grant grants justice, how much more can we rely on our good and loving God? God who is good? All good all the time, and even an unjust judge will sometimes give justice. How much more can we rely on our good God to be just the judge in the parable acts only because he's worn down by the widow's persistence. He finally says, I'm going to give her what she wants so she'll stop bothering me. That's not how our God is. God doesn't respond to us out of irritation or exhaustion. God doesn't say, fine, I'll answer your prayer so you'll leave me alone. No, God listens because God loves you. God listens because love is God's nature. God acts because justice is God's heart.

(19:19):

If even a corrupt self-centered judge can be moved by persistence, how much more will the God who is good and faithful respond to the cries of God's people? That's Jesus's point. He's not comparing God to this unjust judge. He's contrasting them and notice what Jesus calls us to do, to pray always and not lose heart. Jesus tells us to have a faith that won't let go. And persistence in prayer isn't about convincing God to care. God already cares. Persistence in prayer is about keeping ourselves aligned with the God who already cares. It's about staying open to God's movement so that even when we don't see justice right away, we don't give up on it. I mean, the truth is our persistent prayers, they change us, not God. Our persistent prayers change us so that we might be the ones God uses to shape this into a more just world.

(20:31):

They shape our hearts to look more like God's heart. They remind us that faith is not a quick fix, but a steady trust, and they teach us that we're not alone in longing for what is right. Our prayers keep us connected to the source of compassion. They steady our hope and they remind us that God cares about what is right. The widow's story. It's not just about her. It's about God's faithfulness and our formation as disciples of Jesus, God hears, God responds, and faith that won't let go keeps us tuned to God's heartbeat of justice. God's justice is coming in its fullness one day, but until that day comes, don't lose heart. Hold on to your faith. I mean, that's the hope of our faith. The assurance that God's story ends not in despair, but in restoration, not in injustice, but in joy. We live between promise and fulfillment between what is and what will be and faith that won't let go bridges that space.

(21:53):

Keep showing up, keep praying. Keep trusting that God's justice isn't only someday. It's already breaking in right now. Keep living with the faith that won't let go. Faith that sees even the smallest glimpse of God's kingdom as a reason to keep going, the kind of faith that won't let go. Well, that is what Jesus longs to find when he looks at us. Every time somebody like K Lightner or L'Oreal hadda, or anyone who refuses to give up on justice, when they keep knocking on the door of justice, then God's kingdom draws a little mirror. The widow's story reminds us that the work of faith isn't glamorous. It's often slow, weary work, but it's sacred work. Every prayer whispered in hope, every act of compassion offered in faith, every time we choose love over apathy, we join God in bending the arc of history toward justice so people of God don't lose heart. Keep showing up, keep praying. Keep trusting that the God who hears our cries is still writing the end of the story and it ends in justice and mercy and love. So let us be people of faith that won't let go. Held by our God whose love never. Lets go. Amen.