Three Morals

Before the preacher started, she said, “Jesus tells us the moral to this story right up front. But I want you, as you’re listening, to write your own moral.”

The story goes like this:

In a particular town there was a widow with no family and an opponent who was trying to take her down. The widow needed to protect what she had to survive, so she went to the local judge to ask him to clear the matter up. The judge said no, because he didn’t care about the widow’s little problems.

Undaunted, she went back every day to submit the forms and ask the judge to do his job. The unjust judge kept saying no, and she kept coming. For weeks this went on, until the widow started visiting the judge two and three times a day.

“ENOUGH,” the judge finally thought to himself, “I’ll never have a moment’s peace if I don’t do my job and decide this case.” So he finally took the widow’s forms, stamped them with his judge-ly stamp, and told her opponent to knock it off.

The widow got to rest, finally safe.  (Luke 18: 1-5, paraphrased by me.)

One moral jumps out at me immediately: those in power will never do the right thing unless we make their lives too uncomfortable for them to let the status quo continue.

At a meeting I was at recently, an activist described the tactic of “birddogging” like this: When a person in power (elected official, judge, whoever) refuses to talk with you, you just show up wherever they are and ask your questions. You disrupt business as usual in order to pursue the justice you require.

During that meeting, it seemed like some folks were uncomfortable with this practice.

So, a second moral to this story, particularly for well-behaved white folks: If you ever think that a tactic that an impacted community, minoritized group, or vulnerable person is using is too disruptive, remember the widow and the unjust judge – and that Jesus approved of the widow’s tactics. (v 7)

This story is also about accompaniment, through its absence. How would it have been for the widow if someone with more power – in today’s terms, maybe a straight, cis, white man – had gone with her each time she petitioned the judge? Not to speak for her, her voice was strong. Not to impose, but at her request.

If the widow had been accompanied, she wouldn’t have had to face this struggle alone. More, the judge would have seen that she wasn’t alone, that she had friends with more power. Even more, the judge would have known that someone with power was seeing his injustice every time he turned down the widow’s request.

To be present, to be seen, to be a witness: the three essential tasks of accompaniment.  

This gets to a third moral: look for the people who are fighting fights for survival in the face of injustice and ask if they want you to go along with them.

Because nothing will change if we all stay comfortable, and tactics that seem “disruptive” to you might mean survival to someone else. We’re all in this together.