Sermon on Luke 18:1-8 | October 19, 2025
Written and Read by Pastor Mary Elise Scott, Ballard First Lutheran Church
One of the websites that I look at each week as I read in preparation for my sermon is called “Your cliche of the week.” As its name suggests, it dutifully breaks each week’s text down into a common and well-known cliche. It’s always a little entertaining, but never useful - hence, why it has never appeared in one of my sermons.
But, if ever there was a text that seems to have a ready made cliche - it’s this one. And, thus, I went to “Your cliche of the week” fully anticipating that I would know the cliche - “The squeaky wheel gets the grease.” Imagine my surprise when it turned out that the cliche was “No use beating a dead horse.”
After a brief explanation of the cliche itself along with the text, the author of this commentary determined, “When it comes to prayer, sometimes it is ok to ‘beat a dead horse’ and sometimes it isn’t.”
Given what a terrible time I have remembering idioms and cliches, I’m probably not one to talk, but I really feel like the author of this commentary missed the boat this week. I feel like “no use beating a dead horse” is a stretch when there is one much more aligned with this text - “The squeaky wheel gets the grease.” For as long as I can remember, every time I hear this parable, I can’t help but think of the cliche “the squeaky wheel gets the grease” because, well, that’s precisely what happens in this morning’s parable.
This parable, as far as Jesus’ parables go, is pretty straightforward. We have a judge - who while not corrupt per se, has some serious derelictions in duty - for we’re told that he neither feared God nor had respect for people. Given this description, I can only assume that this judge almost always did what was best for himself without any consideration of any one else - but, our text doesn’t give us examples of how he neither feared God no respected people, but it reiterates this tendency of the judge not once, but twice.
So straight off the bat, we know that this judge probably doesn’t lose any sleep at night over the cases that come before him. He probably makes decisions based on what is easiest for himself in any given situation and thus, while I don’t know this for sure, I imagine that this judge quickly adjudicates cases and promptly moves on - never wasting a moment’s thought or a night of sleep worrying about whether he’s made a just or fair decision or worried about how his decision might effect the livelihoods or the lives of the people who come before him.
But, this judge isn’t our only character in the story. In addition to introducing us to the judge, Jesus promptly brings in the widow - who he explains “kept coming to the judge” asking that the judge grant her justice against her accuser.
Interestingly, Jesus doesn’t tell us any details about the widow or about what she has been accused of. All we know about her is that she’s persistent; she’s unyielding; she doesn’t stop. One can imagine day in and day out this widow comes to the judge, each day asking the judge for the same thing, each day boldly commanding that the judge grant her justice. In other words, this widow is the squeaky wheel …
And because she’s the squeaky wheel - she gets the grease. Jesus ensures that we know this - continuing by informing us that the judge is surprisingly self-aware; that he knows his penchant for not fearing God or respecting people. And because of that, the judge says 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.”
In other words, it doesn’t actually matter to the judge whether the woman deserves justice or whether an injustice has been committed against her or not - he simply wants to shut her up.
In truth, modern translations don’t fully do the judge justice in their translation. They all state that it’s so she “won’t wear him out” as though he simply wants to be rid of the inconvenience of her coming to him day in and day out.
But, the original Greek indicates that it’s a little more intense - that it’s so she won’t give him a black eye. In other words, he feels like if he doesn’t grease the squeaky wheel, this squeaky wheel is going to tarnish him - either in an actual physical way as occurs with Jacob in our first lesson in his skirmish with the unknown man in the night, or as another commentator puts it, that the judge worries that the widow will “slander him or besmirch his name.” But, either way, this widow is successful as the squeaky wheel and she gets the justice that she wants - whether she deserves it or not.
Despite how obvious the meaning of this parable appears, Luke still seems a little worried that we might miss the point of it - starting off immediately by telling us, “Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray and not to lose heart.”
One of the commentators that I read in preparation for today stated that this prelude by Luke would be the sermon we weren’t going to preach. They went on to argue that it sort of misses the point of the parable - that the parable isn’t so much about the widow praying and being persistent as it is about justice.
And, perhaps, she is not wrong.
And, yet, this is the meaning that Luke ascribes the parable - even before he relays the parable. And to me, this means something - for it is rare in Scripture, that you get such forthright explanations of parables.
Indeed, I think Luke wanted to remind his readers about the need to pray and not to lose heart. For I think Luke realized just how easy it is to forget our need to pray, just how easy it is for us to lose heart.
And whether this is the sermon we are or aren’t going to preach, I actually think that much like Luke’s audience, it’s the sermon we need - whether that commentator agrees or not. The context of this parable matters. It’s the beginning of the 18th chapter of Luke - in what is Luke’s travel narrative as Jesus makes his way ever closer to the cross.
It also comes on the heels of parables about faith - parables like the mustard seed wherein Jesus has told the disciples that if they have faith even the size of a mustard seed they can uproot a mulberry tree and plant it in the sea. It comes on the heels of Jesus healing 10 lepers and telling the one that returns in gratitude and praise that it is his faith that has made him well. It comes on the heels of Jesus painting a picture of the suffering and rejection that the Son of Man will soon face.
It is as though Jesus knows that their faith will be tested. It is as though Jesus knows that they may lose heart - so much so that they may forget to pray; so much so that they may begin to believe that the ones who neither fear God nor respect people in general will have the last word - that they will be the ones for whom life seems to favor, the ones who will seem to win in the face of countless injustices. And so Luke, here, in the very beginning of chapter 18 reminds them of their need to pray and their need to not lose heart.
Today is really no different … If anything, it may be worse. The news reminds us of this constantly - pointing out that we are currently in the middle of a government shutdown that’s effecting countless people - TSA workers and air traffic controllers having to work with little to no pay; others furloughed altogether. ICE agents arresting full-blown citizens. The threat of national guards being sent to cities. Wild fires and natural disasters like the Bear-Gulch fire that seem to have been going on forever. Indeed, listening to today’s news, it’s hard to remember our need to pray, it’s hard to force ourselves not to lose heart. For as one person I heard interviewed on NPR on the way here put it, “There’s just too much to be angry about.”
And yet, in today’s story, Jesus tells us not to lose heart. Jesus reminds us that God’s bigger than the political leaders of our world and the judges of our world. Jesus reminds us that God’s sense of justice comes from a real sense of justice - not just a desire to quiet the squeaky wheel.
But even Jesus seems to understand how hard it is for us to maintain hope, how hard it is to prevent ourselves from falling into despair - for he ends his parable with a question, saying, “And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”
In the past few weeks, I’ve described myself as disheartened more than once. And, I am disheartened. It’s hard for me to imagine based on what I’m witnessing and hearing that there’s any hope of God’s kingdom breaking forth; that there’s any hope of God’s sense of justice and mercy and grace prevailing. We seem too far apart from each other - too far removed from each other - too engrained in our own opinions and beliefs. And so, when I hear this question from Jesus, I’m tempted to say - “No, the Son of Man won’t find faith on earth.”
And yet, despite everything I still have a glimmer of hope. Despite everything, there are still nuggets of good news - nuggets of God’s kingdom breaking forth - nuggets like a news story I saw this week in which pilots are collecting food for air traffic controllers and TSA agents who have to work without pay; nuggets like the number of people who showed up yesterday for the No Kings protest; nuggets like a bride who despite her wedding being cancelled used her wedding reception as a banquet feast for those who were hungry and on the streets.
Nuggets of God’s kingdom surround us if only we have the determination and the persistence of the widow to see them. There’s no need to lose heart. There’s no need to stop praying. For God’s justice flows easily and swiftly - not to shut us up, but to bring us together.
From where will our help come, the psalmist writes. Our hope and our help come not from the judges of the world - but from God, our God - who made heaven and earth, who keeps us in our going out and our coming in - today, tomorrow, and always - whether we’re the squeaky wheel or not. For God’s love knows no bounds; God’s justice shows up in unexpected ways, at unexpected times; and just like for Jacob and the widow in today’s lessons, God blesses us in the midst of the struggle, in the midst of the unknown. So do not lose heart; faith on earth still abounds. Thanks be to God. Amen.
One of the websites that I look at each week as I read in preparation for my sermon is called “Your cliche of the week.” As its name suggests, it dutifully breaks each week’s text down into a common and well-known cliche. It’s always a little entertaining, but never useful - hence, why it has never appeared in one of my sermons.
But, if ever there was a text that seems to have a ready made cliche - it’s this one. And, thus, I went to “Your cliche of the week” fully anticipating that I would know the cliche - “The squeaky wheel gets the grease.” Imagine my surprise when it turned out that the cliche was “No use beating a dead horse.”
After a brief explanation of the cliche itself along with the text, the author of this commentary determined, “When it comes to prayer, sometimes it is ok to ‘beat a dead horse’ and sometimes it isn’t.”
Given what a terrible time I have remembering idioms and cliches, I’m probably not one to talk, but I really feel like the author of this commentary missed the boat this week. I feel like “no use beating a dead horse” is a stretch when there is one much more aligned with this text - “The squeaky wheel gets the grease.” For as long as I can remember, every time I hear this parable, I can’t help but think of the cliche “the squeaky wheel gets the grease” because, well, that’s precisely what happens in this morning’s parable.
This parable, as far as Jesus’ parables go, is pretty straightforward. We have a judge - who while not corrupt per se, has some serious derelictions in duty - for we’re told that he neither feared God nor had respect for people. Given this description, I can only assume that this judge almost always did what was best for himself without any consideration of any one else - but, our text doesn’t give us examples of how he neither feared God no respected people, but it reiterates this tendency of the judge not once, but twice.
So straight off the bat, we know that this judge probably doesn’t lose any sleep at night over the cases that come before him. He probably makes decisions based on what is easiest for himself in any given situation and thus, while I don’t know this for sure, I imagine that this judge quickly adjudicates cases and promptly moves on - never wasting a moment’s thought or a night of sleep worrying about whether he’s made a just or fair decision or worried about how his decision might effect the livelihoods or the lives of the people who come before him.
But, this judge isn’t our only character in the story. In addition to introducing us to the judge, Jesus promptly brings in the widow - who he explains “kept coming to the judge” asking that the judge grant her justice against her accuser.
Interestingly, Jesus doesn’t tell us any details about the widow or about what she has been accused of. All we know about her is that she’s persistent; she’s unyielding; she doesn’t stop. One can imagine day in and day out this widow comes to the judge, each day asking the judge for the same thing, each day boldly commanding that the judge grant her justice. In other words, this widow is the squeaky wheel …
And because she’s the squeaky wheel - she gets the grease. Jesus ensures that we know this - continuing by informing us that the judge is surprisingly self-aware; that he knows his penchant for not fearing God or respecting people. And because of that, the judge says 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.”
In other words, it doesn’t actually matter to the judge whether the woman deserves justice or whether an injustice has been committed against her or not - he simply wants to shut her up.
In truth, modern translations don’t fully do the judge justice in their translation. They all state that it’s so she “won’t wear him out” as though he simply wants to be rid of the inconvenience of her coming to him day in and day out.
But, the original Greek indicates that it’s a little more intense - that it’s so she won’t give him a black eye. In other words, he feels like if he doesn’t grease the squeaky wheel, this squeaky wheel is going to tarnish him - either in an actual physical way as occurs with Jacob in our first lesson in his skirmish with the unknown man in the night, or as another commentator puts it, that the judge worries that the widow will “slander him or besmirch his name.” But, either way, this widow is successful as the squeaky wheel and she gets the justice that she wants - whether she deserves it or not.
Despite how obvious the meaning of this parable appears, Luke still seems a little worried that we might miss the point of it - starting off immediately by telling us, “Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray and not to lose heart.”
One of the commentators that I read in preparation for today stated that this prelude by Luke would be the sermon we weren’t going to preach. They went on to argue that it sort of misses the point of the parable - that the parable isn’t so much about the widow praying and being persistent as it is about justice.
And, perhaps, she is not wrong.
And, yet, this is the meaning that Luke ascribes the parable - even before he relays the parable. And to me, this means something - for it is rare in Scripture, that you get such forthright explanations of parables.
Indeed, I think Luke wanted to remind his readers about the need to pray and not to lose heart. For I think Luke realized just how easy it is to forget our need to pray, just how easy it is for us to lose heart.
And whether this is the sermon we are or aren’t going to preach, I actually think that much like Luke’s audience, it’s the sermon we need - whether that commentator agrees or not. The context of this parable matters. It’s the beginning of the 18th chapter of Luke - in what is Luke’s travel narrative as Jesus makes his way ever closer to the cross.
It also comes on the heels of parables about faith - parables like the mustard seed wherein Jesus has told the disciples that if they have faith even the size of a mustard seed they can uproot a mulberry tree and plant it in the sea. It comes on the heels of Jesus healing 10 lepers and telling the one that returns in gratitude and praise that it is his faith that has made him well. It comes on the heels of Jesus painting a picture of the suffering and rejection that the Son of Man will soon face.
It is as though Jesus knows that their faith will be tested. It is as though Jesus knows that they may lose heart - so much so that they may forget to pray; so much so that they may begin to believe that the ones who neither fear God nor respect people in general will have the last word - that they will be the ones for whom life seems to favor, the ones who will seem to win in the face of countless injustices. And so Luke, here, in the very beginning of chapter 18 reminds them of their need to pray and their need to not lose heart.
Today is really no different … If anything, it may be worse. The news reminds us of this constantly - pointing out that we are currently in the middle of a government shutdown that’s effecting countless people - TSA workers and air traffic controllers having to work with little to no pay; others furloughed altogether. ICE agents arresting full-blown citizens. The threat of national guards being sent to cities. Wild fires and natural disasters like the Bear-Gulch fire that seem to have been going on forever. Indeed, listening to today’s news, it’s hard to remember our need to pray, it’s hard to force ourselves not to lose heart. For as one person I heard interviewed on NPR on the way here put it, “There’s just too much to be angry about.”
And yet, in today’s story, Jesus tells us not to lose heart. Jesus reminds us that God’s bigger than the political leaders of our world and the judges of our world. Jesus reminds us that God’s sense of justice comes from a real sense of justice - not just a desire to quiet the squeaky wheel.
But even Jesus seems to understand how hard it is for us to maintain hope, how hard it is to prevent ourselves from falling into despair - for he ends his parable with a question, saying, “And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”
In the past few weeks, I’ve described myself as disheartened more than once. And, I am disheartened. It’s hard for me to imagine based on what I’m witnessing and hearing that there’s any hope of God’s kingdom breaking forth; that there’s any hope of God’s sense of justice and mercy and grace prevailing. We seem too far apart from each other - too far removed from each other - too engrained in our own opinions and beliefs. And so, when I hear this question from Jesus, I’m tempted to say - “No, the Son of Man won’t find faith on earth.”
And yet, despite everything I still have a glimmer of hope. Despite everything, there are still nuggets of good news - nuggets of God’s kingdom breaking forth - nuggets like a news story I saw this week in which pilots are collecting food for air traffic controllers and TSA agents who have to work without pay; nuggets like the number of people who showed up yesterday for the No Kings protest; nuggets like a bride who despite her wedding being cancelled used her wedding reception as a banquet feast for those who were hungry and on the streets.
Nuggets of God’s kingdom surround us if only we have the determination and the persistence of the widow to see them. There’s no need to lose heart. There’s no need to stop praying. For God’s justice flows easily and swiftly - not to shut us up, but to bring us together.
From where will our help come, the psalmist writes. Our hope and our help come not from the judges of the world - but from God, our God - who made heaven and earth, who keeps us in our going out and our coming in - today, tomorrow, and always - whether we’re the squeaky wheel or not. For God’s love knows no bounds; God’s justice shows up in unexpected ways, at unexpected times; and just like for Jacob and the widow in today’s lessons, God blesses us in the midst of the struggle, in the midst of the unknown. So do not lose heart; faith on earth still abounds. Thanks be to God. Amen.
