The parable of the unjust judge (Luke 18:1-8) is one of
Jesus’ most insightful teachings on how we understand our relationship with God
and how easily that image can be distorted. The widow, with her unwavering
insistence, is often our model, and the unjust judge, by analogy, becomes a
reluctant God who needs to be persuaded. So, often, we hear this parable
interpreted simply as a call to persistent prayer: “Keep asking, keep knocking,
eventually God will give in!”
While perseverance in prayer is, without doubt, a virtue, Jesus’
intention in this parable goes deeper. He isn't saying, "God is like this
unjust judge, so we must keep on asking Him." He is saying, "If even
an unjust judge, who cares nothing for God or humanity, will eventually respond
to persistent pleading, how much more will your loving Heavenly Father, who
yearns for your well-being, listen and act on your behalf!" The warning
here is vital: God should never be pictured like this judge.
The Pharisaic system, for all its devotion, often maintained
an image of God as a distant, legalistic judge, meticulously weighing merits
and demerits, demanding endless rituals and perfect adherence to an complex system
of law. Prayer, in such a system, could become less about heartfelt communion
and more about proving one's worthiness, a transaction to earn favour. This
placed a huge spiritual burden on people, leading to anxiety, guilt, and a
constant fear of not being "good enough."
Jesus showed us a home and introduced us to have
conversations in that home. God has made a home with us. Prayer is a
conversation in that home. Other than in a homely atmosphere, where can we find
true justice? The parable clearly shows the need for perseverance in prayer.
Jesus assures us that God, unlike the unjust judge, will “grant justice to his
chosen ones who cry out to him day and night.” More than what we say or what we
practice, true prayer is an attitude and a growth. In one way or another, prayer
is an openness to the righteousness of God. When we seek God’s action, asking
for personal favours or spiritual growth, it is all about calling for the
establishment of God’s righteous order in a world often marked by emptiness.
The prayer Jesus taught us is all about the just and righteous rule of God.
“Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” is not
only a request, it is also an openness for God’s will in our life. This is the
ultimate request for a just, equitable, and truthful reality. Similarly, “Give
us this day our daily bread,” desires economic and social justice and also
shows willingness to work for that justice. “forgive us our trespasses, as we
forgive those who trespass against us,” looks for restoring peace and
reconciliation, also the readiness to forgive and be reconciled.
Seeking God’s will in prayer leads us through a growth in truth,
justice, and trust as an essential environment for genuine communion. Prayer is
not just our pleas or performances of rituals, it is also our genuine actions
of kindness and of standing for justice where there is injustice. Prayer acknowledges one’s situation, needs,
failings, and genuine intentions without any pretence. It is also a freedom
from seeking any hiding places in the name of piety, religiosity, or social
activism. Prayer challenges us to come face-to-face with ourselves. As the
truth of our life is before us, what gives us confidence in prayer is our trust
that God is just and will respond to our sincere appeals according to His
perfect will. So, the prayer is not just a personal request, but aligning our will
with God’s righteousness. Prayer is never a religious activity, but a life
style.
How often in different ways we hear, that the best way to
approach God is to beg harder, plead and suffer helplessness? The widow's
insistence models the unshakeable faith that God will indeed "grant
justice to his chosen ones." It teaches us to trust deeper. When we
embrace Him as the loving Father who has already made a home with us, the
entire nature of prayer transforms. Prayer becomes a sincere conversation in
the secure atmosphere of that home. It is a radical act of vulnerability,
laying bare our genuine self—our needs, our failings, and our deepest
intentions—without the pretense of piety or activism.
To pray, then, is to step out of the lonely courtroom of self-righteousness where we have to defend our case, where we fear the judgment of a legalistic God, and to fully embrace the truth of Christ's desire: "Your kingdom come, your will be done." This is an openness to God's righteousness that bring our anxious, self-seeking will to His gentle, just, and life-giving reality.
No comments:
Post a Comment