A Change is Gonna Come: Sam Cooke and the Parable of the Persistent Widow

This past Thursday, I found myself at Crosstown Theatre for the first major Memphis fundraising event hosted by the Tennessee Innocence Project called “A Conversation with Amanda Knox.” If the name seems familiar, you may recall that in 2007, Amanda Knox was the 20 year-old college student from the University of Washington who was studying abroad in Italy when her life was turned upside down. Her British roommate, Meredith Kercher, was found murdered in the apartment they shared, and the local prosecutor was convinced that Amanda and her Italian boyfriend were the culprits. For years, Amanda endured a smear campaign by the Italian media and soon far beyond. Nicknamed “Foxy Knoxy,” an image of Amanda Knox as a deviant, sex-crazed, drug-addicted murderer was plastered on papers and screens in every corner of this world. It was, by far, the worst case of character assassination of an innocent person I have ever witnessed in my lifetime.

Knox did not have any knowledge of or involvement in this horrific murder. A local burglar, who was already known to the police, was found to have committed the crime after his fingerprints and DNA were located at the crime scene. But Meredith and her boyfriend, Rafaelle, were still convicted, and spent 4 years in Italian prison before having their convictions overturned. Even then, the Italian authorities appealed, and the two of them were ultimately exonerated by the Italian Supreme Court in 2015 – nearly 8 years after the murder. To this day, Amanda Knox faces the injustice of these events and the ensuing character assassination. People still think she’s guilty. People still believe the lies created in the mind of that prosecutor. Her life is forever marked by the horrific crime for which she bore no responsibility.

I found myself so incredibly inspired by being in her presence. When someone faces that level of hardship, that length of injustice and a pain so public, it’s easy to imagine them withdrawing from public life. It’s easy to imagine them being bitter and losing faith entirely in the systems of justice, and even losing faith in fellow human beings. However, that is not how Amanda Knox has lived her life in the years since her release. She has used the spotlight she never asked for to shine a light on the problem on unjust convictions of innocent people. She has amplified the work of innocence projects across the United States. And she went back to Italy to confront the prosecutor who unjustly pursued her and led the smear campaign against her. She developed a relationship with him, and what is so fascinating is that he has told her that he now believes she couldn’t have participated in the murder, not because of the facts of the case which prove her innocence, but because he believes she is a good person after getting to know her. It’s wild, but true.

In addition to her presence at this Tennessee Innocence Project (TIP) event were a number of exonerees whose freedom was won in court by the TIP staff in recent years. They had served decades of time behind bars – one had lost 46 years of his life for a crime he did not commit! As I looked at their faces and listened to their stories of injustice, I couldn’t help but imagine what it must be like to be sitting as a victim of injustice and waiting and hoping and praying for justice to come.

This is one of those weeks where the experiences in my world and the lectionary texts align in a way that feels a little unbelievable. It can only be a God thing that on the same week we are reading about the Parable of the Persistent Widow, I get to shake hands with Amanda Knox and listen to her talk about her quest for justice. We will get to that parable in a moment. First, since we are in week two of our Songs and Scripture series, I want to talk about Sam Cooke.

One of the most beautiful and recognizable voices of the 1960s, Sam Cooke is commonly referred to as the “King of Soul.” During his short, eight-year career, Cooke released 29 singles that made it to the Top 40. Not among his biggest hits is the song for which he is arguably best known now – “A Change is Gonna Come,” a song that is ranked number 3 on Rolling Stone’s list of the 500 greatest songs of all time.

This song was inspired by various events in Cooke's life, most prominently when he and his entourage were turned away from a whites-only motel in Louisiana. On October 8, 1963, en route to Shreveport, Cooke called ahead to the Holiday Inn North to make reservations for his wife, Barbara, and himself, but when he and his group arrived, the desk clerk glanced nervously and explained there were no vacancies. While his brother Charles protested, Sam was furious, yelling to see the manager and refusing to leave until he received an answer. His wife commented, "They'll kill you," to which he responded, "They ain't gonna kill me, because I'm Sam Cooke." They eventually left, and when they arrived at the Castle Motel downtown, the police were waiting for them, and they were arrested for disturbing the peace. He was bailed out soon after but the incident made national news, and inspired Cooke to write a song that would have the same message and traction as Bob Dylan’s “Blowin’ in the Wind,” which had so inspired him.

Cooke felt compelled to write a song that spoke to his struggle and of those around him, and that pertained to the Civil Rights Movement and the tireless efforts of African Americans and their allies fighting for equal justice and access in this country. It is a brilliant song. Each verse is a new and different movement, with the strings carrying the first, the horns the second, and the timpani, which is a kind of drum, carrying the bridge. The French horn heard throughout the recording was intended to convey a sense of melancholy. It is arguably one of the most powerful and beautiful songs ever written when considering the context of the lyrics, Cooke’s smooth vocals and the collective instrumentation in the background. This song simultaneously conveys weariness from extended struggle, disappointment from persistent harm and injustice, and yet, a strength and a persistent faith that change will come. It will and it must. It is a rugged and resilient message of faith.

Our text this morning from the Gospel of Luke represents a similar kind of rugged and resilient faith, as Jesus tells his followers the parable of the Persistent Widow. This parable falls near the end of Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem and comes directly behind his teaching about the kingdom of God and the end times. He tells the story of a widow seeking justice from a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. He dismissed this widow but she keeps coming back. Eventually, he grants her request for justice and the reason he gives is, “So she will not wear me out by continually coming.”

Now, some read this parable and think, this means the goal with our faith is to be “annoying” in our pursuit of justice. While there is an element of praising persistence in this lesson, there’s a deeper message here, and we have to look at this parable within it’s Jewish context to grasp the full meaning. In the Old Testament or Hebrew Bible, widows have a particular meaning. They are counted among the most marginalized individuals due to their vulnerability. Widows are on a short list of ones whom the Jewish people are instructed to particularly care for, along with the poor, the orphans, and the resident aliens. These groups carry special status in that they are to be watched out for and treated with hospitality by God’s people. So, in this context of the historic, Jewish world, for this Judge to be so dismissive and cold-hearted toward a widow would have been pretty appalling.

In the translation we read today, the judge finally caves in to the woman’s pleas for justice because it says he did not want for her to wear him out by continually coming back. But in the original Greek translation, the verb used is “hypopiazo,” which would read as, “because this widow causes trouble for me, I will give her justice, so that she may not, in the end, give me a black eye by her coming.” Now, this boxing metaphor perhaps adds a little humor to the story, but I think it also ties into that historical context we noted about how poor treatment of a widow would be seen as a rather awful offense.

What happens when we get a black eye? They stay a while right? We get self-conscious about them because everyone else can see them? And how many times when a person has a black eye do they have to answer the questions, “What happened?” or “How did you get that?” Using the imagery of having a black eye makes sense when you consider that this judge did not want the public to see his continual mistreatment of a woman that Jewish people are commanded to treat with high regard. He doesn’t want people to start inquiring about why he is denying her justice. He knows that his own reputation and social standing will suffer if this widowed woman continues to show up and make an example of his indifference to her situation. This “black eye” translation tells us that this parable is more than a message about annoying persistence, it’s about the power in shining a bright spotlight on injustice so that the public will see, and join in the outrage.

So, what then is the message for us in this current moment we find ourselves. We see a lot of injustice around us. There is a lot of indifference toward and a refusals to provide justice to the very populations that Jesus instructed people to be concerned about. Too many of the poor can’t afford groceries or housing. Too many of the sick lack insurance and are unable to get the care they need. Too many who are imprisoned or formerly imprisoned are unable to receive the kind of rehabilitation and forgiveness that enables them to secure jobs with a livable wage. Too many of the immigrants, particularly immigrants with more melanin in their skin that me, are being hated and hunted and interrogated about whether or not they have the right set of papers. The message to them right now is not one of welcome, it is one of, “We don’t want you here.”

So what will the church have to say in light of these realities? Do we stay silent, when we see justice being denied? Many do. Do we adopt the same indifference as that ancient judge? Many have. Do we cry out for those being treated unfairly, knowing that doing so will draw an angry gaze from those who have chosen the paths of silence and indifference?

Jesus closes this parable by saying, “And the Lord said, ‘Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?’”

The widow cried out because she had faith that eventually, for whatever reason, the judge would grant her request. She believed justice would come. Jesus encourages the people around him hearing this lesson to do the same – to cry out to God, persistently, because God will answer. Do we know if the unjust judge changed his mind because of the widows persistence or because of fear of social stigma? No, but it was probably a little bit of both.

In days like the ones we find ourselves in right now, where empathy is a concept that is demonized, and narrow and cold-hearted interpretations of human law are being used to justify all manner of cruelty, the message of this parable is to be annoying about our calls for justice AND to expose injustice for what it is. Tell the stories that will deliver a black eye to the ones who are cruel. Point out the injustice that you see for what it is whenever you see it. Frederick Douglas famously said, “power concedes nothing without a demand.”

Jesus ends this parable with a question that takes our imaginations beyond the events of the crucifixion and resurrection. He asks, “When the son of man comes, will he find faith on earth?” Asking this question at the end of a parable about crying out and demanding justice in order to get a response from earthly powers as a sign of faith in God seems to suggest to me a challenge. What will the Son of Man find when he returns? Will he find people crying out for justice? Will the church have a role in leading that work? That is our question to wrestle with. That is our call to answer. What kind of church will we be? What kinds of Christians will we be? Will we come alongside the most vulnerable and demand they be treated fairly? Will we be annoying in our pursuit of justice?

Sam Cooke wrote “A Change is Gonna Come” knowing that the 1960s was but a moment in a long struggle for racial justice and equality. We are still struggling toward a full realization of Beloved Community. But that song is a message of hope to carry people through the persistence. Being annoying about justice is tiring work, and movements throughout history have long known that exhausting work is made just a little bit easier with a soundtrack. Inspirational music helps us to recharge, refresh and remember we are not alone in our persistent and annoying calls for justice.

A Change is Gonna Come. I believe it. The bible tells me so. God will respond to the cries of the people who demand justice. So this is your encouragement to be annoying in your persistence toward justice. Be loud. Keep showing up. When Christ returns, may he see abundant faith from his followers who are determined to expose every black eye of injustice and indifference.

A Change is Gonna Come.

And all of God’s children who could said, Amen.