Photo: Patrick Fore / Unsplash

Do you ever feel like giving up? That you’ve lost heart and there’s no point carrying on? Maybe you live with a secret pain or hurt that feels unbearable and nothing seems to make a difference; perhaps it feels like you’ve been praying for something for years and God hasn’t answered; maybe you’ve even wondered about walking away from God. Perhaps (for those of us who are part of the Church of England) you’re frustrated that in your denomination God hasn’t done what you expected, you feel like all hope has been lost, and there’s no point carrying on. I’ve come across a number of people over the past few months who feel that way.

In this post we’re going to consider a story Jesus tells to address the temptation we all face to give up: literally to ‘lose heart’ – to lose your motivation in doing something. Jesus says “let me talk to you about wanting to give up.” 

Getting into the story

Jesus is teaching his disciples about a time in the future when they will be tempted to give up praying, and he tells a story about a widow. She wouldn’t necessarily be old – women married young, and often their husbands died young. But she is vulnerable: indeed, the Bible often uses widows and orphans to symbolise those who are most vulnerable in society. Before the days of the welfare state wives were often provided for by their husbands and when their husbands died there was no financial support – they were very vulnerable, economically and socially.

The issue this vulnerable woman is facing is injustice:

There was a widow in that town who kept coming to him with the plea, ‘Grant me justice against my adversary.’

Luke 18:3

We don’t know what the injustice was or who her adversary was. It’s possible that the issue is financial but we don’t know, and it’s only a story so we don’t need to know. Perhaps you identify with this: A sense of injustice when something bad happens; or when you don’t feel as though you’ve got what you deserve; or when you experience or hear of inappropriate use of power, or of exploitation of the vulnerable.

But there’s also another – fairly unpleasant – character in the story, and that’s the judge:

In a certain town there was a judge who neither feared God nor cared what people thought.

Luke 18:2

This tells us everything we need to know about the judge. He has power to bring justice, but he doesn’t care: About justice, about what people think, or about God. Quite frankly he can’t be bothered: He’d rather have an easy life and play golf with the widow’s adversary at the local golf club. Again, there are tragically many people like this in the world; I’m sure you can think of a few. And of course if we can identify with the vulnerable and the one who has experienced injustice, we also need to ask if we can identify with the judge. Have you ever found yourself in the situation where you could have helped bring justice, but you’ve done nothing – you’ve preferred an easy life? I know I have.

But there’s one thing this judge doesn’t expect, and can’t live with:

And there was a widow in that town who kept coming to him with the plea, ‘Grant me justice against my adversary.’  For some time he refused. But finally he said to himself, ‘Even though I don’t fear God or care what people think, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice, so that she won’t eventually come and attack me!’

Luke 18:3-5

The widow persists. She comes to him demanding justice; and then she comes again; and she keeps on coming to him, like a dripping tap, demanding justice. And eventually the judge gives up. We’re given a glimpse of his thought process in verses 4-5. “I don’t care about God, or what people think, or this widow. But I want a bit of peace and quiet – an easy life. So I’ll give her what she’s asking for.” Because she perseveres – she keeps praying – in the end he gives in, and he grants her justice.

And so Jesus comes to the punchline of the story:

And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off?”

Luke 18:6-7

If that’s true of the judge – who doesn’t care about God or about people – how much more true it is of God himself:  God who does care; who loves his people, his chosen ones. Our loving Father who wants what is best for us: Of course he’ll bring justice in the end.

Being part of the story

So what might this mean for us? Notice first of all that in verse 8 Jesus talks about his return:

 I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?

Luke 18:8

Jesus has the end of time –  including his return and the final judgement – at least partly in mind. But we can also hope and expect that God will bring some measure of justice in this present age. Christians disagree on their interpretation of how exactly the kingdom of God is manifested now; but I hope we can agree that it is at least partly revealed now. Thus when we pray “Your kingdom come, your will be done” – we mean at the end of time; but we also mean to some extent now.

And it’s actually because of his mercy that Jesus hasn’t yet come back to bring complete justice, because there are still people on earth who need to repent and believe. The apostle Peter reminds us that God is patient – still wanting to give people the opportunity to come back to him before it’s too late (2 Peter 3:8-10).

But of course, this delay creates a problem for us believers, because it begs the question “How should we live in the meantime?” We’ve come to one of the great mysteries of the Christian life and the Christian faith: That God in his wisdom works through weakness, suffering, injustice, pain, and unanswered prayer. I’m all too aware that this can sound glib and uncaring. But it’s also the teaching of the Bible; it’s my experience; I’m sure it’s the experience of many others reading this blog.

And of course our supreme example is the Lord Jesus himself. Think of him in the Garden of Gethsemane, facing the most extreme suffering and injustice, and enduring the worst unanswered prayer. Matthew writes: ‘Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup (of suffering) be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.”’ (Matthew 26:38). Jesus endured this for you and me. This is the ultimate reason we know God loves us; and it’s why as his followers we’re willing to endure hardship.

And so even as we wait – in our weakness and sorrow, and in our awareness of injustice – we can trust that God is working through our weakness and pain, and that somehow he’ll use it for our greater blessing and his greater glory in the end. As I wrote elsewhere recently:

Our good and sovereign God is weaving a tapestry – he is writing a symphony throughout human history. The symphony he is writing is a symphony of great complexity, with many notes that appear divergent; and many chords in a minor key. We are in the midst of the symphony, observing individual notes being added to the score, and wondering how they fit into the overall symphony. But when we look back from the vantage point of eternity we will delight in the complex and intricate beauty of the whole – how the seemingly divergent notes, and the parts written in a minor key, came together to create a whole symphony that is more beautiful than we could ever have imagined.”

January 2023

Applying the story to the Church of England

I’d like to apply this story now particularly to the situation in the Church of England as I write. As a member of General Synod, I am in the privileged position of seeing much that there is to thank God for in the Church of England. I thank God for the history and the tradition of the Church and the influence it has had on British society, and indeed the world. Those of us who watched the Coronation of King Charles III saw evidence of that, as we witnessed how historically central the Christian faith is to our monarchy and our nation.

I thank God for the healthy breadth in the Church of England as regards what we might call issues of secondary importance – because no one person or ‘tribe’ has a monopoly on the truth. I thank God for the role many Church of England churches play in their local communities – ‘a Christian presence in every community’. I thank God for recent initiatives to start new worshipping communities and to encourage church planting throughout the Church. I thank God for initiatives to care for clergy and to encourage all God’s people to serve God wherever he has put them. I have also written about other positives here.

But there are also things that concern me. I would highlight two things in particular:

1, A growing impatience with nominalism and formalism

First, what appears to be a growing impatience in our nation with a nominalism and formalism that doesn’t connect with people’s lives. I believe we witnessed this at the Coronation of King Charles III. Personally, I delighted in much of the liturgy and symbolism (once it was explained to me). But I am aware of many – particularly those who don’t attend church or have any intention of doing so – who saw it as lacking relevance or real engagement with people’s real lives. I wonder if this is symptomatic of a bigger issue – that many local churches are failing to engage with their communities, and the issues people are facing. I also found myself wondering during the coronation service whether many people in the our nation view the Church rather like they view the King: An institution of which one is rather fond, but which has very little relevance or significance to life, which offers no threat or challenge or alternative worldview, and therefore can be ignored.

In his recent and very helpful book The Church of Tomorrow John McGinley writes about what he calls ‘the Christendom cataract.’ He describes two fundamental flaws in the Church of England and the wider Protestant church as it has evolved in recent years – that we have developed a relationship of ‘collaboration and partnership with the world’ which has prevented us from critiquing and renewing culture; and that the church ‘stopped being a missionary enterprise within our society because we assumed everyone was Christian.’ He argues that we now face a stark choice: To be a ‘compromised mythology’, or what we might call chaplain to the nation; or a ‘creative minority’.

2, Divide between theological positions

The second (and partly connected) concern is an apparent unwillingness on the part of some to recognise the significant and ever-growing divide that exists between certain fundamentally different theological positions within the Church of England. The presenting issue of the day is human sexuality and gender; but this is merely symptomatic of much deeper questions and disagreements. I have written about the divide, and the current unwillingness on the part of some to recognise it, here and here. Increasingly those on both sides of the divide view it as a matter of fundamental importance – a matter of injustice if you like. I have been clear that I stand on the historical, biblical side of the divide. And increasingly it feels as though I, and others like me, are finding ourselves imprisoned in a cage of the assumptions of others about what we believe and should believe; and we are not being given freedom to hold the beliefs that we hold, which Christians have held ever since Christ himself walked the earth and faced the supreme injustice, and which the majority of Anglicans worldwide also hold.

I recognise that is a very brief, snapshot caricature of the current situation. Others write in much more depth about many of these issues. (For example, see here). But hopefully it helps those of us in the Church of England to see how our situation is in some ways like the widow as she approaches the judge in the story.

So whether we’re struggling with the situation in the Church of England; or whether we’re struggling with one of a million other issues at the moment: How do we keep going? How do we not lose heart?  Jesus encourages us, like the widow, to keep praying; to keep coming to our loving heavenly Father. Know that in the end he will answer. He’s not like the judge – he loves you. And he may have better reasons than the judge for not answering yet. But when the time’s right, when he can, when his good work is done – he will answer. And he won’t answer in the way you want – he’ll answer in the way that’s good for you: If the answer to your original prayer is ‘no’ it’s because he has something even better for you.

But there’s another reason to pray. And we see it in verse 8: In the face of delay and uncertainty and pain and unanswered prayer, faith is needed. And prayer actually helps to build faith: it is what keeps us trusting. As we pray that he would encourage us from the Bible; that he would fill us with his Holy Spirit; that he would change us, making us more like his Son: so he increases our faith and we can keep trusting him. I’ve had many days where I’ve been discouraged, wondering if I can keep going. But I have been greatly helped as I have asked God to minister to me, to reveal himself to me, and to sustain me. And as my faith grows, I am finding that increasingly I am able to rest in him. I no longer strive and work in my own strength, but in his. And I find that I’m able to praise him for what who he is, for what he’s going to do, and for his sovereignty and goodness in the situation.

Let me close with some words from pastor and theologian Jonathan Edwards:

‘Tis very apparent from the Word of God, that God will often try the faith and patience of his people, when crying to him for some great and important mercy, by withholding the mercy sought, for a season, and not only so, but at first to cause an increase of dark appearances; and yet, without fail, at last, to bring success to those who continue instant in prayer with all perseverance, and will not let God go except he blesses.

Jonathan Edwards