At times it is easy to lose one’s faith Gospel: Luke 18:1-8
Fr. Jijo Kandamkulathy CMF Claretian Missionaries
A person’s faith is tested in adversities. It is true especially when we are facing discouragements in prayer. After repeated prayers, if we find God is not taking any action, most people feel discouraged. Some will start complaints about God and some lose faith and there are still others who fall into self-doubt. One could accuse oneself of wrong doings of the past and imagine God punishing for them. Those who are in self-doubt are particularly vulnerable to witchcrafts, and other practices to achieve their objective with the help of the evil.
The readings today help us to reflect on our own habits of prayer. The passage brings to mind some questions we have always wanted to ask. Why are we invited to pray insistently? What is the meaning of prayer?
Jesus responds today with a parable of an unjust judge. The duty of the judge should be to protect the weak and the defenseless. But this man is wicked. He neither fears God nor cares about people and is totally unspymathetic to the widow who is asking for his attention on her case.
The widow is a symbol of the defenseless and those exposed to abuse. She has been wronged and claims her rights but no one listens to her. If there is one thing that the poor understand all over the world is one thing; justice is meant for those who have money and influence. They often choose not to fight for their rights, for justice for fear of becoming even poorer or losing their lives. This woman has a single card in hand and she plays it: she pesters the judge repeatedly, with obstinacy, at the cost of looking indiscreet.
After a long wait, the judge decides to solve the case not because he realizes his misbehavior but he is tired and annoyed by the insistence of the woman. He thinks, this widow is troublesome; she pesters me and becomes unbearable.
Who is the unjust judge? Who is the widow? To understand this we need to know the historical juncture in which the words are spoken. We are in the 80s of the first century, when, in Asia Minor, a very violent persecution starts. Emperor, Domitian claims that all should adore him as a god. The pagan religious institutions have surrendered. The Christians have not. They cannot—as the book of Revelation says (Rev 13)—bow before the “beast” (the Domitian divo) and for this, they undergo harassment and discrimination.
Now it’s clear who the widow of the parable is: it is the church of Luke, the church whose Spouse is taken away; it is this community that awaits his coming, even though she may not know the day or the hour of his return and that each day, with insistence, she is pleading: “Come, Lord Jesus” (Rev 22:20).
The Lord is answering the dilemma of the Lukan community. He makes a rhetoric question, “And will God not give justice to his chosen ones who day and night cry to him!” followed by a peremptory affirmation, “Yes, I tell you, he will bring justice to them soon; even if he makes them wait for long.”
A major temptation of Christians is to get discouraged and in the face of a long wait for the Spouse who delays and tolerates injustice. Seeing the inexplicable slowness of the judge, the widow could have resigned and despaired to the fate of not obtaining justice one day. The Lord alerts the community against this danger represented by discouragement and resignation to the thought that the Spouse is not coming any more to render justice. He will surely come, but will he find his chosen ones ready to welcome him? To someone, his slowness could cause a loss of faith!
Here is the message of the parable: pray. Jesus has told so—says the evangelist—to inculcate the belief that it is necessary to pray always, without ceasing. Prayer is being in constant conversation and consultation with the Lord. Keep the arms of prayer raised to the Lord until evening, until the battle over discouragement is won!
And the last thing is; some delay in answering to the prayers is worth the while so that we value the answers to our prayers. What is available immediately is also considered cheap and wasted easily. Time also makes us discern what we really need. But, discouragement in the process should not happen. Our strength, be it of faith or personality, is measured to the grace with which we handle discouragement
Text analysis indebted to Fr. Fernando Armellini SCJ
古代东方的所有统治者都决心把自己塑造成捍卫社会中最弱小者，孤儿和寡妇的法官形象。埃及的法老们：他们登极初期的时候，总是说：他们会保护孤儿，寡妇和穷人。在非常著名的《汉谟拉比法典》（Code of Hammurabi）开篇，这位伟大的统治者是这样介绍自己的：我，汉谟拉比，受神召唤，来此世间主持正义，消灭恶人，强者不可欺凌弱者。我们也要记得：那首献给理想的以色列统治者的圣咏第72首说：他要捍卫人民中的受压迫者，拯救穷人的孩子，推翻压迫者。在他们的日子，必要兴盛，极其富有，直到月亮失明。
现在说话的是主。在路加福音中，提到“主”的时候，那就是复活的主。路加正向那些遭到迫害的团体，并向今天的我们说话，当我们身处不公的境况，与主相遇的时候，就要“听复活之主对你说的话”“难道天主不会保障那日夜向祂呼求的选民的权利？”这实在是向今天的我们，以及路加所在团体所说的最好的话。我们是祂拣选的人，也就是相信并接受祂福音提议的人，因此，我们不能如同外邦人那样，对不公不作回应。答案就是：“我告诉你们，他会确保你们立刻得到公正对待。”这就是对希腊文ἐν τάχει – in tahéi 所做的绝佳翻译，或者，更好翻译是：他会出其不意地带来正义，你可能没有预见到这一点，但是，它一定会带来公道。你可能希望天主以某种方式使正义得张，不。祂定会在你意想不到的时候，使正义得张。因此，你必须时刻保持醒寤，与祂对话，聆听祂的圣言，因为祈祷会使你保持适当的心态，好使你能抓住天主赐给你的，开启新世界的机会。然后，祂会使他们等上“很长的时间”希腊语中的表达是：καὶ μακροθυμεῖ ἐπ’ αὐτοῖς – kai makrothimei ep autois 我会这样翻译：即使这会让他们等上很长时间。
古代東方的所有統治者都決心把自己塑造成捍衛社會中最弱小者，孤兒和寡婦的法官形象。埃及的法老們：他們登極初期的時候，總是說：他們會保護孤兒，寡婦和窮人。在非常著名的《漢謨拉比法典》（Code of Hammurabi）開篇，這位偉大的統治者是這樣介紹自己的：我，漢謨拉比，受神召喚，來此世間主持正義，消滅惡人，強者不可欺淩弱者。我們也要記得：那首獻給理想的以色列統治者的聖詠第72首說：他要捍衛人民中的受壓迫者，拯救窮人的孩子，推翻壓迫者。在他們的日子，必要興盛，極其富有，直到月亮失明。
現在說話的是主。在路加福音中，提到“主”的時候，那就是復活的主。路加正向那些遭到迫害的團體，並向今天的我們說話，當我們身處不公的境況，與主相遇的時候，就要“聽復活之主對你說的話”“難道天主不會保障那日夜向祂呼求的選民的權利？”這實在是向今天的我們，以及路加所在團體所說的最好的話。我們是祂揀選的人，也就是相信並接受祂福音提議的人，因此，我們不能如同外邦人那樣，對不公不作回應。答案就是：“我告訴你們，他會確保你們立刻得到公正對待。”這就是對希臘文ἐν τάχει – in tahéi 所做的絕佳翻譯，或者，更好翻譯是：他會出其不意地帶來正義，你可能沒有預見到這一點，但是，它一定會帶來公道。你可能希望天主以某種方式使正義得張，不。祂定會在你意想不到的時候，使正義得張。因此，你必須時刻保持醒寤，與祂對話，聆聽祂的聖言，因為祈禱會使你保持適當的心態，好使你能抓住天主賜給你的，開啟新世界的機會。然後，祂會使他們等上“很長的時間”希臘語中的表達是：καὶ μακροθυμεῖ ἐπ’ αὐτοῖς – kai makrothimei ep autois 我會這樣翻譯：即使這會讓他們等上很長時間。
Ten men stood at a distance. Ten voices cried out in unison, “Jesus, Master, have pity on us!” And ten bodies, ravaged by leprosy, waited for a miracle. It was a haunting chorus—desperate, raw, and strangely unified. These were not friends. They were not family. They were not even of the same faith. Nine were Jews. One was a Samaritan. And yet, here they were, bound together by a common affliction that had stripped them of everything—status, community, dignity.
Leprosy had done what centuries of religious division could not. It had dismantled the walls of hostility. Jews and Samaritans, who would not even share a cup of water, now shared the same dust, the same pain, the same hope. Sometimes, it takes suffering to reveal the truth: that the identities we build around ourselves—our caste, our creed, our purity—are fragile illusions. When the skin begins to rot, when the body begins to betray, we remember what we had forgotten: that we are all human. That we are all broken. That we are all in need of grace.
I remember the story of an Indian village in 2018, submerged in floodwaters. A high-caste woman, who had spent her life avoiding the touch of those deemed “untouchable,” found herself stranded. And it was the very men she had shunned who lifted her onto their shoulders and carried her to safety. In that moment, the flood became a baptism—not of water, but of truth. The truth that adversity washes away the lines we draw between ourselves. The truth that salvation often comes from the margins.
All of the ten were healed, but only one returned. And we risk reducing this gospel to a moral lesson on gratitude—as if Jesus were merely disappointed that nine forgot to say “thank you.” But the Gospel is not a lesson in etiquette. It is a revelation of how grace is received, how marginalization is dismantled, and how salvation is recognized. The gospel today is not a lesson in manners. It is a confrontation with our spiritual blindness. All ten persons with leprosy were healed. But only one returned. Only one worshipped. Only one was saved. The others received the miracle—but missed the Messiah.
And here is where the story turns sharp. The nine who did not return were Jews—men raised in the Scriptures, schooled in the rituals, trained to recognize the hand of God. And yet, they walked away. Healed, yes. But unchanged. The Samaritan, the outsider, the heretic, the one who had no theological credentials, saw what the others could not. He saw that Jesus was not just a healer. He was the Savior. He was the fulfillment of the prophets. He was the God who does not dwell in temples, but walks among the wounded.
There is a psychological tragedy here. The nine were so conditioned by their religion that they could not see beyond it. They did what they were taught—go to the priests, show yourself, fulfill the law. But they missed the moment. They missed the presence. They missed the Person. Religion, when reduced to ritual, can become a veil that hides God rather than reveals Him.
In Mark’s Gospel, we read that after healing a person with leprosy, Jesus could no longer enter the city. He had touched the untouchable. And in doing so, He became unclean. He chose exclusion. He chose marginalization. He chose to stand where the persons with leprosy stood. That is the scandal of grace: it does not flow from the center to the margins—it erupts from the margins toward the center.
And the Samaritan? He becomes the first theologian of the New Covenant. He sees what the scholars missed. He understands what the priests ignored. He intuits that God is not far from the persons with leprosy. He does not escape them. He embraces them. He touches them. He heals them. And in doing so, He condemns the religion that excludes, judges, and marginalizes in the name of purity.
This is the joy of the Gospel: that the impure, the heretics, the marginalized are not only closer to God—they often reach Him first. They do not come with entitlement. They come with need. And in that need, they find grace.
So let us ask: are we among the nine, or the one? Do we seek healing, or do we seek the Healer? Do we want miracles, or do we want relationship? Because not everyone who is healed is saved. The nine walked away with clean skin. The one walked away with a new heart.
May we, too, be touched. May we, too, be changed. May we, too, return. And may the Lord say of us, as He said of the Samaritan: “Your faith has saved you.”
May we, too, return. May we, too, see. May we, too, be saved.
我們聽過宗徒們向耶穌的請求：增加我們的信心。對希臘原文的直譯是：增加我們的一點信仰，增加我們所擁有的那一點。這樣的話，我們就能理解，耶穌為什麼不回答他們的問題，因為這個問題，沒有意義；那能增加信德的，不是他，因為信仰是人們可以自由選擇接受，或自由拒絕耶穌對所有人提出的愛的建議。我們每天都在證明；有些人只是耶穌的崇拜者，有些人只是一點愛祂，一點點欽慕祂，有些人則是更多愛祂。聖徒們為福音而獻出生命。讓我們想想那些慈善的聖徒，比如：若望由天主者（John of God），嘉彌祿（Camillus de Lellis）科托倫戈（Cottolengo），薩爾沃·羅薩里奧·安東尼奧·達奎斯托（Salvo D’Acquisto），馬希連·國柏（Maximilian Kolbe），他們出於對基督的愛，使自己的生命置於危險之中。
全属于祢 
您必须登录才能发表评论。