No
one was taking care of the widow. She appeared frequently before a judge who
was powerful and fearless before God, one who disregarded people. Her
persistence amounted to wearing him down or beating him up. She had no bribe
money, or that would have made things easier. The setting for the story is most
likely a typical small village through which Jesus would walk. Four times in this
text a unique word is used. Transliterated in various forms it is ekdikesin, or vengeance, or justice. “Grant
me justice against my adversary,”
verse 3; “I will see that she gets justice,”
verse 5; “will not God bring about justice,”
verse 7; and “he will see that they get justice,”
verse 8.
For
some time now, I have been pondering a task.
Call me foolish or call me a dreamer, or call me a whatever. My wish
would be to find an African American male student at Westside High School from
Trinity, Texas who graduated in 1968. Perhaps he and I could discuss our paths to and from school and life in Trinity, Texas. I graduated from Trinity High School that
same year. THS was a mere five or so blocks from WHS, but they were worlds
apart. The white school was on the main highway that ran north and south
through town. The black school was off to the west by several blocks. I seldom saw black students, as I recall,
anywhere around Trinity, except for that one time on a Saturday night I heard,
along with a lot of other whites of the community, the football game on the THS
field played by the Westside team. We got up on top of the animal barns and
watched part of the game. Cheering was different. The teams were different. The
band played different music. I was enthralled, but not enough to ask questions.
This team, so history bears out, was one of the best in the state of Texas. Those
students were invisible to me in my narrowmindedness. Was I invisible to them? The
racial divide was there even in a town with a population of 1,776. For that, I
repent.
I
suppose that Black citizens prayed persistently like the woman did in Luke 18.
Surely they persisted in prayer against the injustices of Jim Crow south and
the egregious separate but equal system that only served to make the distinctions
even more distinct. During my senior year in high school, Phenita Dennis, 10th
grade; Priscilla Dennis, 9th grade; Tom Whorton, 8th
grade; Dwight Dennis, Artie Mae Mayse, and Cynthia Wheeler, 7th
grades; and Carolyn Thomas, 6th grade, had integrated the white
senior high and junior high. How much courage did they and their families
possess? How persistent were their prayers? How persistent were their actions?
I
have met via social media, a gentleman who was in the last graduating class of
the 8th grade from Westside Junior High. He grieves that there is
nothing there at WHS to signify that a school was ever actually there. No monument, no marker, no buildings. I
grieve with him. He mattered. His school mattered. It apparently does not
matter enough for someone to erect a historical marker there. I am encouraged
by Otis Walker, THS class of ‘72 and his pursuit of righteousness.
My
world then was small, very, very small.
So small it was and for probably good reasons. I was more focused on survival, or so it
seems. I did not have much of a social
consciousness other than that part of me revealed when the black church
minister and some of his members attended the white church of Christ gospel
meeting, or when my dad’s three friends included one white guy, one black guy,
and one Hispanic guy.
So,
did anyone pray the prayer of the persistent widow for justice against their
adversaries, and did the unjust judge ever grant their wishes or they’d wear
him out with their persistence. I hope
so. Separate but equal is dismantled. Jim Crow is dismantled, at least in the
laws. It remains on in the hearts of people and is intensified during this time
of political strife.
Did
they pray for justice? Were their prayers answered? Did Jesus’ words ‘always
pray and never give up’ mean something to them?
These
things just make me wonder. What makes you wonder?
