Exodus 17:8-13 / 2 Tim 3:14 – 4:2 / Luke 18:1-8
There is one thing that we all know how to do even though we were not taught how to do it.
In fact, we don’t even need to learn how to do it, because it comes instinctively. The thing that we are talking about is that we all know how to complain.
We not only know how to complain, we seem to enjoy doing it, and we also seem to enjoy doing nothing about it.
Anyway, if we are not doing anything to make it right, then why do we keep complaining about it being wrong.
Maybe that was what came into the mind of Moses when the Amalekites came and attacked Israel at Rephidim as we heard in the 1st reading.
Israel had just come out of slavery in Egypt and they were in no state whatsoever to fight with anyone, and there came the Amalekites intending to make minced meat out of them.
The Amalekites’ unrelenting brutality towards the Israelites began with an attack at Rephidim. This is recounted in Deuteronomy (25:17–19) with this admonition: “Remember what the Amalekites did to you along the way when you came out of Egypt. When you were weary and worn out, they met you on your journey and attacked all who were lagging behind (typically women and children): they had no fear of God. When the LORD your God gives you rest from all the enemies around you in the land He is giving you to possess as an inheritance, you shall blot out the name of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget!”
So instead of complaining about why God brought the Israelites out of Egypt only to be butchered by the enemy, Moses ordered Joshua to march out to engage the enemy, while he will stand on the hilltop with the staff of God in his hand.
So Moses kept his arms raised with the staff of God in his hands while Israel fought the Amalekites. But when he let his arms fall, Israel also began to lose the battle.
So he sat on a stone, with Aaron and Hur supporting his arms till sunset, and Israel defeated the Amakelites.
So instead of complaining and succumbing to despair, Moses lifted up his hands to invoke the help of God, and when his arms grew tired, he had support from Aaron and Hur, till Israel prevailed over the enemy.
So the lesson that we can learn from this is: If we want to complain, then complain to the one who can help us. Moses raised up his hands to God to invoke His help.
The Responsorial Psalm begins with this: I lift up my eyes to the mountains; from where shall come my help? My help shall come from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.
In the Mass, the priest says this: Lift up your hearts; we respond with: We lift them up to the Lord.
Yes, we lift up our hearts with all our burdens and our complains, and the priest continues with: Let us give thanks to the Lord our God, and we respond with: It is right and just.
When we lift up our eyes to heaven and lift up our hearts to the Lord, the Lord God will do what is right and just for us, so that when we overcome our burdens, then we will give thanks to God.
And instead of giving in to complain, which is futile, we will be a consolation for others so that they will know that God will bless them with enough.
And that is what the gospel parable is telling us – the need to pray continually and never lose heart, and that God will console us.
The widow seems to be complaining and pestering the judge who neither fears God nor respects man. But it was her persistence for what is right and just that prevailed over the unjust judge.
And Jesus taught us this – Will not God see justice done to His chosen ones who cry to Him day and night even when He delays to help them? I promise you, He will see justice done to them and done speedily.
Yes, that is what Jesus promised us, that God will see justice done and done speedily, so that instead of complaining which is futile, we will have the consolation from God.
The following story is a narration and the tag line is “I WISH YOU ENOUGH” and the narration goes like this:
Recently, I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport as the daughter's departure had been announced. Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said: "I love you and I wish you enough."
The daughter replied, "Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom." They kissed and the daughter left.
The mother walked over to the window where I sat. Standing there, I could see she wanted and needed to cry.
I tried not to intrude on her privacy but she welcomed me in by asking, "Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?"
"Yes, I have," I replied. "Forgive me for asking but why is this a “forever” good-bye?"
"I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is her next trip back will be for my funeral," she said.
When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, "I wish you enough." May I ask what that means?"
She began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from the generations. My parents used to say it to everyone." She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and she smiled even more.
"When we said 'I wish you enough' we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them". Then turning toward me, she shared the following, reciting it from memory.
"I wish you enough sunshine to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye."
Her tears welled up in her eyes but she was able to smile as she walked away.
Indeed we will have enough of consolation from the Lord and may that stop us from complaining about life.
Instead, may the consolation we receive make us raise our eyes to heaven and lift our hearts to the Lord in thanksgiving.
And may we also share that consolation with others and may they also give thanks to God.