Luke 18:1-8 - The Parable of the Persistent Widow
Imagine a widow in ancient times, utterly powerless in society's eyes,
with no husband to advocate for her, no wealth to leverage, and no connections
to pull strings. Yet she has something far more potent: an unshakeable
determination. Day after day, she returns to the corrupt judge who fears
neither God nor man, demanding justice. She doesn't bring bribes or threats.
She simply shows up, again and again, until this hardened official finally
gives into out of compassion, but sheer exhaustion. Jesus tells us this
shocking story not to compare God to an unjust judge, but to show us the
opposite: if even a corrupt man eventually responds to persistence, how much
more will our loving Father hear us when we pray?
This parable cuts to the heart of what it means to have faith in a world where
prayers don't always seem answered on our schedule. We've all been there, praying
for a sick loved one, for a broken relationship to heal, for a job we
desperately need, for peace in our anxiety-filled hearts. Days turn into weeks,
weeks into months, and the silence can feel deafening. The widow teaches us
that authentic prayer isn't about getting what we want immediately; it's about
maintaining a relationship with God even when heaven seems silent. She didn't
pray once and give up when nothing changed. She kept coming back because she
believed justice existed, even if she couldn't see it yet. Our faith is proven
not in the moments of miraculous breakthrough, but in our willingness to return
to prayer tomorrow, and the day after that, trusting that God is good even when
circumstances aren't.
The Rosary is perhaps the most beautiful Catholic expression of the widow's
persistent spirit. Think about it: we pray the same prayers over and over, ten
Hail Marys, then another ten, then another. To an outsider, it might seem
repetitive, even monotonous. But that's precisely the point Jesus makes in this
parable. The widow didn't craft a new eloquent argument each time she
approached the judge; she came back with the same plea, day after day. When we
pray the Rosary, we're not trying to impress God with our vocabulary or
convince Him with fresh arguments. We're doing what the widow did, we're
showing up. Each bead is another knock-on heaven's door, another act of faith
that says, "I trust You're listening, even if nothing seems to
change." The repetition isn't mindless; it's the rhythm of persistent
love, like a child tugging on a parent's sleeve, or a heart beating steadily in
a chest. The mysteries we meditate on, Jesus Christ's life, death, and
resurrection, remind us that God has already proven His love in the most
dramatic way possible, so we can persist in prayer with confidence, while deepening
our relationship with a Father who delights in our faithfulness.
The parable ends with Jesus asking a haunting question: "When the Son of
Man comes, will he find faith on earth?" He's not asking whether he'll
find people who believe God exists, but whether he'll find people who actually
live like the widow, who persist in prayer when it's hard, who maintain hope
when circumstances scream otherwise, who refuse to let disappointment
extinguish their connection to the Father. This week, whatever you're facing,
whether it's overwhelming or mundane, you're invited to be like that widow.
Bring it to God again. Don't polish it up or make it sound spiritual, just show
up honestly, persistently, stubbornly even. Because the God who counts every
hair on your head and who knows when a sparrow fall isn't like that unjust
judge at all. He's a Father who delights in hearing from His children, and your
persistent prayers are not annoying Him, they're drawing you closer to His
heart.
©2025 James Dacey, Jr., OFS
