Second Sunday after Epiphany
January 18, 2026
Sermon
Camille Cook Howe
Pastor
Luke 18:1–8
Dr. Peter Paris, a professor of homiletics, was once asked what the difference was between teaching and preaching, and he said, “The main difference is that when you preach, you sweat!” The Reformed faith believes that in preaching, we are connected to God’s living Word. That is why we hold preaching with reverence and respect in our tradition. It is also why the preacher sweats because it is a holy honor to interpret the scriptures for God’s people, and hope they will hear God speak to their lives today. On this Martin Luther King Jr. weekend, the church gets the chance to celebrate the birthday and the legacy of one of the biggest heroes of the Christian faith in recent years. Martin Luther King Jr. helped change our country for the better in taking steps towards building the beloved community he found in the scriptures.
As King read the Bible, I imagine Jesus’ parable from Luke’s gospel would have been formative for his leadership beliefs and actions. The parable of the widow and the unjust judge might not be the most famous parable in the Bible, but to me it is an important one. It is a parable about the importance of tenacious, hopeful faith. It is a parable about the importance of prayer. It is the parable about the heart of God.
In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, “Grant me justice.” And she kept coming and pleading for justice, and eventually she wore down the judge. He said, “Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she might not wear me out by continually coming.”
Luke introduces this parable by saying this story was told in order to teach the disciples about their need to pray always and not lose heart. The woman in this parable did not lose heart. The persistent widow, as she has been named, is a model of faithfulness.
I bet if this were a real woman, returning each day to the judge to plead her case, that her neighbors would have thought she was wasting her time. I bet the people standing watch outside the judge’s chambers would have rolled their eyes at her. I bet that the “persistent widow” would not have been the nickname that the judge used for her. It must have been her faith that drove her to return day after day, knowing deep within her heart that there must be a bigger power in the world than the power of a heartless judge. There must be more that could move justice forward than the callousness of the one in the seat of power. Her faith told her it was true, and she just needed to not lose heart. Her faith in God’s power and love taught her that with faith and hope and persistence, justice and mercy and love would prevail.
Jonathan Eig, in his 2023 biography on the life of King, says that on January 12, 1958, King gave a lecture called “What is a Man?” at Orchestra Hall in Chicago. In it, King argued that man was created to be in relationship with God, and that our divine relationship should compel us to live better lives, to shape the universe for the better, to love even our enemies as if they were our brothers and sisters. People took issue with King for this speech — they said it was too weak, too measured, too naive. What they were really taking issue with was his Christian faith, which informed these convictions. We know that people on both ends of the spectrum on civil rights movements took issue with how King’s faith informed his actions — “You are too much,” some said, “You are not enough,” some said.
But his Christian faith was what shaped him; it was deep in the marrow of his bones, shaped both in his home and in his church. And the core of his faith was the belief of God’s ultimate power and his faith in Jesus’ call to love our neighbors — these things compelled his persistent hope that life could be different, life could be better. Gardner C. Taylor called King, “the most authentic spiritual genius in this land.” I have long been interested in the ways King used prayer as a tool throughout his life and throughout his work. King believed that a life without prayer guaranteed estrangement from God.
Lewis Baldwin is perhaps the one scholar who has taken the closest examination of the specific prayers King offered. Baldwin notes that King blends adoration, confession, supplication, intercession, petition, thanksgiving, meditation, and contemplation into his prayers. King prayed for the world in time and space and the things beyond this world. King prayed for both primary concerns and ultimate concerns — he prayed for things like shelter and salvation. He prayed for himself, and he prayed for others. He consistently prayed for his enemies. His prayers reflected his respect for other faith traditions. He prayed at all times and in all places: in pulpits and jail cells, on marches, over the radio, from truck beds. King took days of silence and retreat at home, in his study, or in hotel rooms to connect with God and reflect. Prayer was called King’s secret weapon in the Civil Rights Movement.
As a pastor, King did not want his parishioners to rely on prayer alone but wanted them to combine their prayers with energy, intelligence, and positive action. King refuted the Marxist idea that religion was the “opiate of the people.” He said, “I take prayer too seriously to use it as an excuse for avoiding work and responsibility.” Part of the reason King believed prayer would be a useful tool was because he believed it was more than a civil movement; it was a spiritual movement.
Like the persistent widow, King’s faith in God’s power compelled him to pray for God to intercede on behalf of the oppressed people. King really did believe that God answered the prayers of the faithful; he must have read Luke 18. As we reflect on King’s life and his impact on the world, we can confidently affirm he led not only a successful social movement; King also led a rich spiritual movement — and in doing so, the prayers of many were answered, just like the parable teaches.
If King were alive today, I bet he would be so proud of the progress we have made as a society, in some ways and in some places. In others, I bet King would mourn the lack of progress and ongoing divisions he would see in our country. His faith gave him a vision for the kingdom of God on earth, where people would not be divided by race or status or creed — and he worked and prayed persistently to see that kingdom realized on earth. But people in our country in 2026 still experience exclusion, discrimination, and injustice. In some places, there is beautiful integration, and in other places, we live segregated lives. King prayed for and worked for racial equality, and 57 years after his death, we still are not there. We are better, but we still have work to do for neither race nor creed nor nationality nor economic status nor anything else to divide us. We still have work to do.
So much work to do. Work to do so our Jewish friends and family do not have to go through metal detectors to safely worship in their synagogues. Work to do so immigrant families do not live in fear and families are not separated from each other. Work to do so communities are not terrorized by violent acts and dangerous streets. Work to do so all of us can recognize our shared humanity and stop demonizing each other. So much work to do… good work to do. Let us not lose heart in the good and important work we are called to do because of our faith. We read this parable of the persistent widow, and we remember the power that comes from our faith in Jesus — our faith to not lose heart, our faith to pray without ceasing, our faith to rise from our knees and embody our faith out in the world. Each of us is called to embody the spirit of that persistent widow — and keep believing, and keep praying, and keep working — for the kingdom of God on this earth.
What I know about Fourth Church is that this is a community that believes in working towards the kingdom of God on earth and believes in loving its neighbor. We love the homeless neighbors as they line up for meals every single day of the week at this church (we served over 50,000 meals last year). We love the children of Chicago who jump off buses during the week to receive tutoring and healthy meals and support from our community. We love the strangers who wander into the building in the winter months seeking warmth in our community living room where snacks and respite and friendship are offered. Fourth Church’s impact in Chicago is real through the work of Chicago Lights and our Social Services’ offerings, through the work of our church committees and care ministries, through the work of our pastors and staff members who are here every single day of the week, being the persistent widows that they are. Believing and then praying and then working for the kingdom of God to be realized.
MLK weekend is a chance to pause and give thanks to God for the witness of Jesus, who called us to ministries of love and justice and mercy. A chance for us to pause and give thanks to God for the witness and work of Martin Luther King Jr., who was an exemplary persistent widow, showing up over and over again, on behalf of the people of God. We pause on this important weekend, but then we start again, working to honor King’s vision by rejecting division, working to honor Christ’s vision for the kingdom of God to be experienced not just in heaven, but here on earth.
Prayer was foundational for the life and faith of Jesus. Prayer was foundational for the life and faith of Martin Luther King Jr. Maybe prayer really is the secret weapon after all!
Amen.
Sermon © Fourth Presbyterian Church