The bright sun stunned the disciples as they strolled out from the majestic temple onto the bleached limestone terrace.
Hand-chiselled, these giant stone blocks measured more than 2 metres on each side.
A grown person could walk two or three paces per stone.
 
They watched hundreds of people milling in these courtyards and patios outside the temple.
Rising far above the streets, these massive boulders were hewn from limestone cliffs.      They were….. HUGE.
 
The stones were there to stay, and the delicate, gorgeous temple would have made you gasp.
As this was the holiest place in all Israel, the disciples were surely in a state of awe.
Someone said, “Look, what large stones and what large buildings” and everyone marvelled at the grandeur.
 
Therefore, you can just imagine the disciple’s dismay when Jesus asked,
“Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”
The disciples were probably wondering
“Who does he think he is, talking about the temple’s demise when he’s actually at the temple?”
 
We can surely relate to the disciples’ frustration.
Most of us love our possessions, our houses, cars and clothes, wealth, health.
We like the occasional shiny building, the thriving city, a powerful military presence protecting us.
These things make us feel safe and we’d rather not hear that moths destroy, and rust consumes, that our possessions are short-lived, temporary like mist, because we don’t want to lose our material status.
This economic system works – for some – and we move mountains to prevent its crumble.
But, deep down, I guess we all know that eventually we’ll die and go back to God - with nothing.
Everything we’ve built on earth will stay here, and we’ll be gone.
 
Mortality is a scary thing and talk of the end makes most people fidget uncomfortably.
In the gospels we read of messianic and apocalyptic Jews, who spent their days actually waiting for the end of time.
 
That’s why our upcoming Advent season bible readings are full of what are called “end-times predictions”.
Our spiritual ancestors expected the end within months, and they were anxious to know when it would happen.
 
For example, the Essene community, that followed John’s gospel and who wrote what are now called the “Dead Sea Scrolls”, moved as far away from civilization as possible.
They were camped in desert caves by the Dead Sea, literally training for a cosmic battle.
And like it or not, these people are part of our spiritual story.
They asked with pained anxiety: How do we live in the present, when we don’t know the future?
 
As Jesus is forecasting the temple’s destruction, the disciples also wonder:
How can we plan for today, when we don’t know what tomorrow will bring?
The gospel writers must have agreed on the importance of the temple story, because Luke tells it in today’s gospel, Mark tells a similar tale in Chapter 13 of his gospel, Matthew in Chapter 24, and John alludes to the temple destruction in Chapter 2.
 
Peter, Andrew, James and John ask Jesus, “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?”
The response Jesus gives is less than helpful, as he tells them,
“When you hear of wars and rumours of wars, don’t be alarmed; this must take place.”
 
Not helpful, Jesus.   They were asking when, but your response is that really bad stuff is going to happen.
How should they live today when they don’t know what tomorrow will bring?
They were probably thinking
“Come on, Jesus, we really want to know.    We’ve got plans to make!”

This can be a disturbing reading for some, and perhaps it’s unwise to release the tension.
Easy answers make for good bumper stickers, but real life is a bit more complex.
 
In place of an easy answer, consider what Jesus offers.
Something to all of us: the profound truth that God is still in charge.
God calls us to love with radical abandon.
This is less of a dream, more of a solid movement.
We don’t know what comes tomorrow, but we know that God calls us to love our neighbours as ourselves, and to work tirelessly toward a just society and a loving community.
 
So how do we live in the present when we don’t know the future?
We should partner with God, giving it all that we have, because God has work for us to do - today!
 
Jesus talked about a revolution in which the last are first, the proud get scattered, the lowly are lifted up.
God fills the hungry with good things and sends the rich away empty.
The sick are healed, the poor are blessed and, in this revolution, we’re all the beloved children of God.
He started the revolution, but it depends, in part, on us to keep it going.
I’m up for it, are you on board?
 
When we read today’s story in the context of Luke’s full gospel, Jesus drops the temple bomb right before setting his face toward Jerusalem.
“All will be thrown down,” he says, perhaps referencing his own death.
And history shows that it was so.
The Roman army plundered Jerusalem in the year 70, with soldiers pillaging the temple, murdering people and destroying everything that Israel held dear.
 
Yet death never gets the last word, as Jerusalem rose from the Roman ashes.
Jesus died a brutal death at the hands of the military state, but that’s just Friday’s news.
When Sunday rolled around and took the stone with it - resurrection strolled out of the empty tomb.
God was still in charge.
 
Remember though, that Jesus doesn’t promise easy living.
Jesus doesn’t say that the temple remains, that we avoid death, or that pain goes away.
 
But Jesus does promise that God is with us - even to the end of the age.
God is still in charge, and we can trust in God when we can no longer trust anything else.
 
Have you ever prayed in a time of uncertainty, in a time of waiting?
Consider the poetic beauty of today’s reading from Isaiah 65.
To the people who knew exactly what it meant to lose a temple, God said,
​“See, I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. So be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating.”
 
How do we live today when we don’t know tomorrow?
We must draw strength from God, who invites our participation and endures long after the cities and buildings and stones have crumbled.
We have to adopt an attitude that asks not what God can do for us, but what we can do to bring the Kingdom of God a bit closer.
So we love our neighbours as we love ourselves, and we strive for just societies and a stable planet - new heavens and a new earth.
We pray without ceasing, and we trust in a mighty God from whom all blessings flow.
 
This is the revolutionary Gospel - the good news of Jesus Christ.
It’s here for us today, so don’t wait for tomorrow – it may not be what we’re expecting.              
 
Blessings…………..Pastor Rick

​In today’s gospel story, as is fairly typical of Jesus, he replies to a conundrum with another conundrum.
He’s presented with a sort of riddle about a woman who marries seven times – and not just seven times, but to seven brothers - in succession.
And each brother dies, leaving her a widow – time after time.
 
The Sadducees, who are critics of Jesus, want to know: “In the resurrection, whose wife will the woman be?”
Actually, they didn’t believe in the resurrection, and so they’re trying to mock Jesus, in an attempt to show how silly and unworkable the idea of eternal life is.
They’re trying to demonstrate that the things we hold dear in this life, including the bond and covenant of marriage, will make no sense in the next life.
And they’re trying to depict Jesus as a kind of oddball faith healer and snake charmer, whose fundamental claims just don’t make any sense.
 
And, I guess, in one way, they’re right, because to the average man in the street, Jesus can be very easy to mock.
Eternal life is a strange and seemingly unworkable idea.
And the fundamental claims of Christianity don’t make sense when compared with the values of the secular world.
This was true in Jesus’ time, and it’s still very true today.
 
The first assertion made by the Sadducees is that the fundamental claims of Christianity just don’t make any sense.
The greatest commandment is: love God and love your neighbour.     We can agree that’s fundamental, right?
But most of our world is obsessed with power, prestige, wealth and control.
 
If we admit to the existence of God, then we must acknowledge that all the possessions we have are not ours, but are simply “lent” to us - ie. we’re stewards of our possessions, including our earthly bodies.
All we have is a gift from God and they’re only of value while we’re alive on this earth.
But the culture we live in says “this is my home, my money, my whatever, and I can do with it whatever I want.”
It’s very much a “me” society.
 
However, when we acknowledge the existence of God, we also acknowledge that we’re not in control, not the ultimate judge, not the great power of the universe – or even of our family.
 
Of course, the secular world would say otherwise.
Our society is full of people who insist on doing it “their” way, on their own individual authority.
It happens at the simplest levels of human interaction, and also at the highest levels of government and industry.
 
And what about the concept of loving our neighbour?
Loving God and loving your neighbour as yourself – these two great imperatives - to those of us who profess and call ourselves Christians - are NOT always the values of our country, of our society, or of our world at large.
Our society isn’t always so good at upholding this principle, is it?
 
Then there’s the idea of eternal life – is it a silly and unworkable idea?
As for multiple partners in the afterlife - the Sadducees are trying to show us that it sounds illogical.
Maybe when we think of eternity like this, we’re failing to use our imagination and we’re wasting a lot of energy discussing whether we’ll live forever, or to whom we may be married - it just seems to me to be another manifestation of that power and control thing that society is pushing.
 
I call it “sweating the small stuff” - spending too much time worrying about little things.
 
We’re promised great joys, never-failing care, the strength of God’s presence, rejoicing in eternal glory, being received into the arms of mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and being reunited with those who have gone before to the paradise of God.
 
The fullness of God’s love and truth is not known to any of us – not yet.
And that makes Jesus easy for them to mock, as we don’t have all the information.
 
We don’t know everything, or as Paul puts it, “Now we see in a mirror, dimly.”
Remember, that in the first century, a mirror was probably not like one of today’s manufactured, perfectly smooth and clear glasses. Looking into a mirror was more like looking into a brook or stream, or into a highly polished rock.
Now we see in a mirror, dimly, but when the end comes, Paul says that “we will see face to face. Now, I know only in part - then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.”
 
The Christian dispensation acknowledges that we don’t know, we don’t have control, we’re not in charge.
So, how is it we’ve come to believe?
 
Think of an empty jar on a table and fill the jar to the brim with large rocks.     
Is the jar full?
What if we then pour in very small pebbles until they filter down between the larger rocks.    
Is the jar full now?
What about if we tip a box of sand into the jar.  
Is the jar full yet?    
Most would answer “Yes.”
 
Think of this jar as representative of your life.
The big rocks are the most important things, your family, your friends, and your health.
The pebbles are the things that matter but to a lesser degree, things such as your job, your house, or your car.
And the sand, well, the sand is everything else, all the small stuff.”
 
If you put the sand into the jar first, there’s no room for the pebbles or the rocks - and the same is true for your life.
If you spend all your energy and time on the small stuff, you’ll never have room for the things that are the most important to you.
So, take care of your big rocks first, the things that matter above everything else.
 
But this illustration is a worldly one, because it makes no allowance for Jesus Christ.
How can we get Jesus into our jar of life along with everything else?
Think of him as water.
 
We could take this jar analogy one step further by pouring water into the jar, pausing every now and then to shake the jar, allow the water to weave its way down through the rocks and sand.  Now it IS full!
Establishing priorities in your life is a wonderful thing, but they must be touched by the “living water” of Christ.
The way to make your life count the most for eternity, is to surrender it completely, every last corner of it, to him.
 
Let him permeate everything you think, say, and do.
Let him lead you into his perfect will and plan for your time here on earth.
Let him guide you into all truth.
Let him mould and shape you into the absolute best version of you there can be, and let him take everything about your life - all the rocks, all the pebbles, all the sand, and use it to bring glory to God.
 
The journey of faith isn’t a life lived without doubt or questions, the life of a Christian isn’t one without trial or hard work, and the earthly pilgrimage isn’t about control and power.
It’s about truth, hope, and above all, love.
 
So, I encourage you to look at the big picture and work on the big rocks in your life.
Don’t sweat the small stuff.
There’ll still be room for the small rocks and sand – and the water of Christ will support and sustain us on our journey through God’s Kingdom, both here on earth and later.  
               
Blessings…………..Pastor Rick

Zacchaeus wasn’t a very tall man, barely standing five feet tall with his shoes off and he was probably one of the least popular men in Jericho, because he was the head tax-collector in that district for the Roman occupying forces and he’d made a huge profit out of it.
He was the richest man in town, as well as being the shortest.
 
Last week, I used the lectionary reading from Luke 18 - the passage about the Pharisee and the tax collector praying in the temple.
We certainly got the idea from that reading, that tax collectors were pretty despicable characters and not at all popular with the Jewish people.
 
Still, when word got around that Jesus would soon be passing through his town, Zacchaeus climbed up a sycamore tree so that he could see something more than just the backs of other people's heads.
And that's precisely where he was when Jesus spotted him.
 
And in the words of that recent TV game show, Jesus called out, “Zacchaeus, come on down!”, adding “I'm going to eat at your house tonight.”
 
Well, the reaction from the people was not exactly the thunderous applause that the game show audience respond with.
The people nearby were actually amazed and, I think, a little horrified.
It was beyond belief to think that Jesus would have had better sense than to invite himself into the house of a man whom nobody else would touch with a ten-foot barge pole.
 
But Jesus knew exactly what he was doing.
He’d spent his life perfecting the art of mixing with the marginalised people of the land.
Zacchaeus, meanwhile, was so taken aback by the honour of hosting Jesus for dinner, that before he had a chance to change his mind, he blurted out a promise to not only turn over 50% of his holdings to the poor, but to also pay back four times the cash he'd extorted from anyone else.
 
Why this sudden change of heart?
What had turned this money-grabbing shylock into a philanthropist?

It all came down to the fact that when he came into a relationship with Jesus, something remarkable happened.
Jesus set him free from the stunted, distorted self-image that had corrupted his life.
Jesus set Zacchaeus free to be his true self - as one made in the likeness of God - a creature made for loving, for giving, for sharing.
 
Jesus could easily have seen in Zacchaeus what everyone else did:  a greedy, ruthless, despicable traitor who collected taxes for the Roman occupation forces. 
But Jesus saw a lot more in him.
 
He knew that there was a child of Abraham locked away in Zacchaeus and Jesus wanted to release it.
In other words, Jesus acknowledged him as a Jew and gave him the benefit of the doubt, so that he could turn his current life around.  We’ll never know the details of what went on between Jesus and the tax collector over that meal, but we do know the result.
Zacchaeus started to recover his lost inner beauty and bearing fruits to prove it. He said:
“Half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor, and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much”.
 
To which Jesus replied:  “Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham.”
 
Zacchaeus was looking for God, but God had already found him.
Knowledge had happened - and revelation had taken place. 
It’s common today for people to tell us that “knowledge is power”, but this was a personal kind of knowledge that Zacchaeus now embraced - it was the ultimate power. 
It’s a power which Christ still has: to reveal God to us and to show us our own true nature.
 
So, what is it that you see in the bathroom mirror, first thing in the morning? 
Do you just see a human life form with a complex plumbing system? 
A pile of beige or brown coloured cells? 
A mass that consists mostly of water? 
Maybe the aftermath of your last 500 takeaway meals? 
A chance fragment of consciousness in an unconscious universe?
These are all terms that have been variously used to describe us - people.
 
Or do you see something which God has revealed and redeemed through Christ Jesus: a child of Abraham, or better still: a child of God and a sister, or brother, of Christ.
 
There’s something truly divine about you; something infinitely precious and glorious.
That’s a part of the revelation of which we are stewards.
The other part of that revelation is that God, the Awesome First Person, far more glorious than all the billions of suns and stars in the universe, is tirelessly seeking your self-rehabilitation.
To God, you are so priceless, that no trouble is too much for him in trying to achieve your reclamation!
 
Out in the community, there may well be someone who’s thinking: “In my case, you’ve got it all wrong.
There’s nothing precious about me.  If you knew my ugly thoughts and feelings; if you knew about my broken promises and sullied ideals; if you knew my lack of prayer and lack of faith; if you knew about my simmering resentments and lusts; if you only knew the real me, you wouldn’t stand up there and say that I’m precious.”
 
The real you isn’t all about the sins and follies of your life.
God already knows all about them, and yet he loves and treasures you, all the same.  
Our faith in each person’s preciousness isn’t based on observation, or investigation; it’s based on revelation. 
 
That is, your true identity flows from God; from that immense, beautiful, throbbing Spirit who is within, and behind, all creation, and whom Christ Jesus revealed in his life and death and resurrection.
 
There may come a time when you might want to seek me out and tell me a sad story about your failings.
As your Pastor, I’ll listen carefully and compassionately and recognise the pain in your heart.
I’ll attempt to assist you. 
But I will draw the line at one thing: I’ll never accept that you are just a ‘waste of space’.
You may have failed your Lord a million times, but that doesn’t alter God’s belief in you and his eternal love for you.
 
As we read in our bibles and ask for help, God is willing to wipe the slate clean and let us start all over again.
 
Even the Apostle Paul, when writing to the fledgling church in Thessaloniki, reminded the congregation that they weren’t judged by the way other people viewed them, but by their steadfastness and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.
 
So, I encourage you to look inside yourself!
Affirm what you are in God’s eyes and lift up your head.
Reach forwards towards that day when Christ will complete his work of grace in you, and you shall recognise that you have actually become the glorious being that you are in God’s eyes!
 
This day salvation has come to this house; for we also are children of Abraham - that’s us.
So let’s go out and live our lives - just for God - from this time on!  
 
Blessings…………..Pastor Rick

​Evidently, going to church can be a tricky business.
One person might enter this sanctuary thinking: “I feel good here. I’m doing okay, God.  Thank you that I have not fallen in temptation like some others I know. Bless me that I may keep up the good work.”
 
Another person might slip into this place thinking: “I’ve got no right to be here, God. I’ve really screwed up and made a mess of my life. If you can, God, have pity on me.”
 
According to Jesus, the first person would probably leave this church at odds with God, while the second one could well leave very much okay with God.
 
Here’s another bit of sharp discomforting word from the Parable Man! Jesus just could not help himself, could he?   He keeps upsetting our ideas of what is appropriate or inappropriate, fair or unfair, but he continually throws us back into the arms of God’s free gift of grace.
  
Among the four Gospel compilers, I find Luke especially enthusiastic about this aspect of Christ.
The familiar benediction which commences: “the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ” may not have originated with Luke, but the theme is certainly dear to his heart.
 
His Gospel is about some great news for the world – “Grace”.
Providing the unbuyable, unpredictable, uncalculated, seemingly indiscriminate, generosity of God - to even the most despicable of characters.
 
But don’t gloss over this fact; I did just say: “despicable characters.”  
In this parable, the tax collector is not painted as a really nice guy, in spite of his profession.
 
By the way, our son-in-law, Tim, used to work for the ATO until just recently, so I suppose he could have been called a modern day “tax collector”, but it’s actually considered an honest profession these days.
 
In those days, such people were rogues, despicable people.
Our common use of the word “tax collectors” as those whom Jesus welcomed, must not blunt the fact that they were usually traitors; “low lifes”, who collected taxes for the occupying army. 
These men were hated for good reason, as they were the “bag men” for Rome.
With the broad swords of the Roman military behind them, they enforced the payment of tolls, even from the poorest of the poor.
And they also made an extortionate profit from the business, on the side.
 
So, the tax man at the back of the Temple was probably one of these low-life’s – a real blood sucking creep.
I imagine him as very plump, well dressed and wearing lots of expensive jewellery.
 
On the other hand, the Pharisee was probably a truly good man. 
I imagine him as being lean - from living with moderation and fasting often. 
He’s trying desperately hard to do the right thing.
The only obligatory fast for a good Jew was once a year on the Day of Atonement, but this chap is voluntarily doing it twice a week.
What’s more, he doesn’t merely give a tenth of his income to the temple, he gives a tenth of the cost of anything he buys; just in case the shop keeper doesn’t tithe with his income.
 
This is not one of those religious guys who gets legalistic and meticulously pays attention to legal requirement, but doesn’t do a thing more.
This man is generous, and we would probably love to have him as a member of any church, wouldn’t we?
 
Well, where does the Pharisee go wrong, and where does the tax collector get it right?
 
To start with, notice the Pharisee prayed about himself – no mention of God.
He’s airing his goodness before God, rather than communing with God.
He’s flaunting his virtues, instead of falling down in awe before such pure beauty and holy love.
 
Then things get worse.
Where the Pharisee goes totally wrong is when he attempts to justify himself by making comparisons with others.
“I thank you God that I am not like everyone else,” he says, in an attempt to find his soul’s security by establishing his credentials as compared with the poor credentials of extortionists, the unjust, and adulterers.
 
You may have heard a similar comment from someone watching the news or reading a paper.
They comment on an item about some respectable person who has been caught breaking the law:
“I may not be a saint, but at least I’m not like that fellow!”
 
Or the worldly person, who plays the self-justification game this way:
“I know I don’t go to church very often, but at least I’m not a hypocrite like some of them!”
 
In the presence of God, we’re not like siblings, jealous of each other and hoping to buy more parental love by being better than our sisters and brothers. 
We don’t earn good points that way, nor do we earn extra vouchers by bad-mouthing others.
 
Our only justification for being in the presence of God comes down to this: God’s unconditional love for us.
We’re here because God wants us here.
 
The tax collector was a despicable man, but he knew he was and looked for nothing but the mercy of God.
He knew he had no right to be in the Temple and he was aware that any comparison with others would leave him in more debt. 
The only way he was going to feel okay was if God granted it to him.
And God did – as a free gift - gratis! 
 
Grace is what this Gospel message is fundamentally about.
 
Self-vindication can lead to a terrible poverty, but God’s love can restore us.
 
It’s a tragedy that those who try to justify themselves leave no room to receive grace.
Morally, they may be living exemplary lives; yet their well-stocked, neatly packed, self-justifications leave no hole into which the grace of God can take hold.
 
They go home unpardoned - not because God withholds grace, but because they’re not ready to receive it.
If you’re full of yourself, there’s not much room for God.
 
On the other hand, all kinds of sinners who’ve given up hopes of self-vindication, are able to find grace, mercy and peace, as they have a hunger, a gnawing emptiness in their souls, a room for grace to enter in and work its miracle.
 
I have one final comment - a sting in the tail - if you like.
 
There is a little, demonic trap lurking close by after we’ve heard this parable.
It’s the temptation for each of us to think: “Thank God I’m not like that Pharisee.”      Oops.
 
Don’t be like him – so full of yourself that you can’t come openly to God and gratefully accept his gift of grace.
Be thankful for all the gifts God has provided for you and tell it to him regularly – in your prayers.
 
Blessings…………..Pastor Rick

​Many of us might have had an experience like the persistent widow in the Gospel reading from Luke.
If you have ever had to deal with an insurance company or a government agency, or in some cases even hospitals, or the justice system, you might know how it feels to wonder if anyone is listening or responding to your needs.
 
We’ve probably all experienced the frustrations of dealing with bureaucracy, but sometimes, when our needs are most serious, we can experience these feelings of being unheard in the middle of an emotional or desperate situation – and that can be devastating.
 
We can even feel like Sisyphus in the famous myth: struggling to lift a heavy weight up a tall mountain.
But just when we think we’ve reached the top, it rolls all the way back down and we’re forced to start at the beginning again.
 
More often than not, it is our persistence, our unwillingness to let things slide, or our unwillingness to lose hope, that eventually leads to success.
 
Jesus told his disciples to always pray and to never give up.
The teaching in this parable on prayer follows directly on Jesus' teaching on the coming of the Son of Man in Ch 17.
Indeed, verse 8 of this parable ends with exactly that theme.
In verse 1 we read a reminder to the disciples who may be undergoing a struggle, just prior to the return of the Son of Man, not to give up hope, but to keep praying.
 
Luke reveals the point of the parable in advance: "that they should always pray and not give up".
"Always" in Greek means "at all times" and Jesus is teaching us to continually pray, again and again.
 
Some might say that once you've asked God for something, it displays lack of faith to ask for it again, but
Jesus teaches clearly that we are to continue to pray until we receive the answer.
The act of continuing to pray is not a sign of little faith, but of persistent faith.
 
We know that widows had a difficult time in early Palestine.
Normally, the wife of a deceased man had no legal right to inherit her husband's estate, so that when he died, she couldn't take for granted that she could continue living in his house.
 
If they had no children, the estate reverted to her husband's male relatives on his father's side -- his brothers, his father's brothers, and then the nearest family kinsman.
If she had grown-up children, things would be easier; they would be able to take care of her.
But a widow with small children had a particularly difficult time.
 
In our story this week, we don't know how the widow was being cheated, but her judge certainly appeared to be on her opponent's side.
She didn't have money for lawyers, as she was probably only holding on by a thread.
But there is one thing we know about her -- she didn't take "no" for an answer.
She was a squeaky door demanding oil, and the judge decided to grant her what she was due just to get rid of her.
 
Perhaps there wasn't a real widow, nor a real judge, but the listeners to the story Jesus told would have met widows like her and had experience with judges like him.
In the audience you would have seen people nodding their heads, because they'd met people like that, so the story was true-to-life for them.
 
The judge was only concerned with himself - his own opinions, his own comfort, his own income.
In verse 6, Jesus calls him "unjust" and though it isn't explicit, there was probably a reason that the judge wouldn't give the widow justice – most likely it had to do with money.
It is possible that the judge was either taking bribes to fatten his purse, or he had an "arrangement" with a wealthy citizen who stood to lose if the widow won her case.
The judge was arrogant, self-absorbed, and unjust, a powerful man facing down one of the weakest members of society - a widow.
 
Then, in his parable, Jesus substitutes God and his chosen ones, in the place of the unjust judge and the widow.
Note that he wasn’t saying that God is unjust - no, and that's just the point.
Jesus points out that if an unjust, selfish judge will see that justice is done in response to persistent requests, how much more will the God of Israel bring justice to his own beloved people, who pray constantly for relief.
 
It's easy for people in situations like these to get discouraged, even disappointed.
When the church was young, the new followers of Christ were sure that they would see his return in their lifetime. However, with 2,000 years of hindsight, we now know better.
If you carefully read the words Jesus spoke to his disciples, you’ll see that his message is consistent:
Stay spiritually awake and be ready, for I come in an hour that you do not expect.
When we try to put his Second Coming on a calendar, we only get disappointed - and we're not the only ones.
 
In the latter part of the First Century, Peter wrote:
"First of all, you must understand that in the last days scoffers will come, following their own evil desires.
They will say, "Where is this 'coming' he promised? Ever since our fathers died, everything goes on as it has since the beginning of creation....”
"But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything in it will be laid bare." (2 Peter 3:3-4, 8-10)
 
When Jesus comes again, it will be at the right time, not at our time or our preference, but God's.
 
Jesus told a parable of persistence, of a widow - weak in the world's estimation - who won a victory because she didn't give up hope, she didn't give up her plea - and finally she won the day.
But what about you and me?
Do we sometimes become so worn down and discouraged by our lives that we stop praying, stop hoping, stop expecting God to intervene.
Will we become like religious, church-going unbelievers, who have given up expecting an answer, whose prayers are just going through the motions?
 
Jesus told this story to his disciples, and to us, so that we might be encouraged and not become discouraged.
 
None of us are weaker than the widow and none of us are facing longer odds than she was.
But because of her persistence and faith, even the unjust judge gave her what she requested.
 
How much more we can expect God to intervene on our behalf?
How much more will God bring justice to us, since we are his beloved, chosen children?
 
Yes, we will become discouraged at times - even Paul did.
But we must not quit and not give up praying – continually.
 
“Remember that God has been with us from the beginning and is always with us.
Today, in this moment, we are living miracles of the Creator God.
Let us go out into our day knowing that we have tasted the essence of God!
Talk to God constantly and remember to thank him for all that he does for us, in us and through us.”
 
Blessings…………..Pastor Rick