October 7, 2007
(Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost; Proper 22)
Increase My Faith!
By The Very Rev. Terry White, Dean
Habakkuk 1:1-4, 2:1-4 • Psalm
37:1-10 • 2 Timothy 1:1-14 • Luke 17:5-10
(From
The Lectionary Page)
For the umpteenth time Mrs. Youngston came to her pastor to tell him, "I'm so scared! My husband says he's going to kill me if I continue to come to this church."
"Yes, yes, my child," replied the pastor, more than a little tired of hearing this over and over. "I will continue to pray for you, Mrs. Youngston. You must have more faith - the Lord will watch over you."
She admitted, "Well, the Lord has kept me safe thus far, only....."
The pastor repeated, “You must have more faith.”
Mrs. Youngston said, “But Pastor, I think my husband is now more serious.”
Pastor said yet again, “You must have faith…what do you mean your husband is getting more serious, my child?"
Mrs. Youngston replied, "Well, now he says if I keep coming to your church, he's going to kill YOU!"
"Well, now," said the pastor, "Perhaps it's time to check out St. Paul’s on the other side of town."
“What about having more faith?” asked Mrs. Youngston.
Pastor shouted, “Amen! I do have faith that you will be much happier at St. Paul’s!”
At the start of today’s Gospel reading the apostles say to Jesus words you and I may have said this past week: "Increase my faith!" Scholars differ on the context of this question. Were the disciples genuinely wishing to know how to be more effective and wanting to grow in faith, or were they showing their weaknesses yet again, causing Jesus to respond in exasperation. Usually I agree with the latter interpretation. Today I am venturing into new homiletical territory and approaching this lesson from the position that the disciples truly wished to know how to brow in faith.
Our Lord employs that well-known image of the mustard seed. The seeds of a mustard tree are mere specks, tinier than a radish seed, or about the size of a speck of ground black pepper.
When asked to increase their faith, Jesus responds with a clever phrase: "Faith the size of a mustard seed can say to a mulberry tree, be uprooted and plant yourself in the sea."
Now I wonder: Is there anyone who does not have even a speck of faith? Not likely. You and I, in the darkest of times, would probably grudgingly admit that we have at least a speck of faith. And Jesus goes on to say, that a mere speck is enough for you and me to seemingly defy the natural order of things, such as command a tree to move, and it would do so.
Now perhaps we in fact have the power to remove a tree, but then again, why waste the power of faith on something that a chain saw can handle quite well. Might our faith not be put to better use?
For example: When we make a mistake, the natural order of things encourages us to shirk responsibility, to deny our involvement, cast blame on another or lie to protect ourselves. A speck of faith demands that we take responsibility for our actions, and not compound one mistake by falsely accusing another person.
Another example: When we receive our wages, some say it is natural to provide not only for our needs but for our wants, and incur great debt for those wants, even though so many of our sisters and brothers lack so much. But a speck of faith requires that we use our wealth in a Christ-like way, giving of our substance, not simply sharing token bits and pieces with the Church and with agencies that serve the poor. Some people would consider such practice as un-natural. For people of faith, we call this stewardship – using God’s gifts for the work God has given us to do.
If we take the time, we could compile quite a list of proverbial mulberry trees we should tell to move on, opportunities we have to act in a faithful way, even though voices around us tell us to act differently.
This is how Jesus tells his apostles that their faith will be increased. It is by living faithfully that our faith grows. By making choices that put flesh on the bones of the faith we process with our lips. Our faith is increased when we do more, when we give more, when we love and forgive and heal more.
Fear gets in the way of increasing our faith. And we are bombarded with messages that engender fear, and we become conditioned to turn in on ourselves. The seeds of fear are often not the size of mustard seeds, but the size of bowling balls.
Now let us hear the Lord Christ again. Faith the size of a tiny seed is enough to defy the powers of this world. Faith can challenge what is too often called rational thought, expose the powerful for their weaknesses, and take time-tested economic theory and stand it on its head, replacing it with Gospel economics: where a few loaves and fish feed thousands.
Let us remember that at the heart of this parable, Jesus is reminding us that a seed, no matter how tiny, how virtually undetectable it might be, is how life begins. It is true in biology, and it is true in matters of faith. Because of Christ Jesus, faith is alive. In baptism, that faith was planted in us. In this Eucharist that faith is fed. No matter how little we think we believe right now, there is always a speck of faith in us. And that is all it takes.
My friends, let us uproot evil, selfishness, bigotry, and hardened hearts, by speaking out and saying clearly, "Enough!" and by genuinely living faithfully. This is how our faith will increase.
Moving trees means to change the landscape. The landscape of the cathedral, the wider Church, our neighborhoods, and our world will be changed. Moving trees is akin to moving ladders. . .but that’s another homily. (see Easter Day 2007!)
Want to increase in faith? Then work it.
I Trust That
by The Rev. Carol Sanford, Priest Associate
If you have been keeping up with the news lately, you may have noticed a number of articles and book reviews dealing with the subject of atheism. It seems that more and more people in the United States and Europe are publicly saying that they do not believe in any God. Unceasing warfare on earth and the recent rise of terrorism, including the September 11 attacks, are evidence for some people that God does not exist. Often, atrocities perpetrated in the name of religion seem to prove, as one book title has it, that God is not Great, and that, in fact, there is no God at all.
Despair is nothing new, of course, as our opening words from the Book of Habakkuk confirm: O Lord, how long shall I cry for help and you will not listen? Or cry to you, “Violence!” and you will not save?
Even persons of great faith may question the reality of God in the midst of the horrors of war and of cruelty of all kinds. I’ve been thinking lately about suicide bombers, who are so prominent in their claims of violence done in God’s name.
According to news reports, some who prepare to die in this way are coerced, either through blackmail, bullying or family pressure. Some seem to be desperately seeking an escape from a hard life and a guaranteed entry into a better place after death. And some, the ones I’m interested in this evening, believe that they offer themselves for a higher good; that they serve God and their fellow human beings by strapping explosives to their chests and walking into public markets, or by driving bomb-filled vehicles through compound gates. Why do they do this? How can they do this?
When I hear in the first letter to Timothy that God has given us not a spirit of cowardice, but a spirit of power and love and self-discipline, I wonder if our natural impulse to serve and love God and God’s creation can be twisted so as to create destruction rather than to build up the fruits of God’s outpouring love.
Evidently, some men, women and even children, believe that killing themselves and the random slaughter of others is a noble and honorable act for God. Someone, somewhere, must have told them this. What haunts me is the question of why they have trusted their sources of information. I wonder in particular how all this relates to our faith and trust in God.
For me to trust, I need experience. It’s best if it’s my own experience but, failing that, I prefer to rely on the experience of someone I know to be trustworthy. I need to have experience in relation to them that shows me that they can be trusted. In other words, you really can’t just tell me something and have it stick. I need a reason to believe.
Each of our readings today has to do with faith, with trust in the intentions and outcomes of God. But why should I trust? What experience do I have of our sources of information? How am I to believe words passed down from so many centuries ago? Even the authors admit that things are not going so well at the times about which they are writing. Are they building their faith on experience or on empty hopes or untrustworthy sources? How can we tell?
For Christians, it can get a bit sticky, since we are supposed to build our hope on the foundation of something that we are told happened two thousand years ago. I imagine that many of us present here tonight have had occasion to learn the hard way that not everyone or every bit of news is trustworthy.
And yet I do, fundamentally, trust the Bible, this strange library from ages past. I trust it because my experience has shown that it is trustworthy. We can trust it even though some of the passages are so remote in time and culture as to make little sense to us or, as in the casual use of slavery as a model for discipleship in tonight’s gospel, to sound offensive in our ears.
How do I know that within the Bible resides the very Word of God? Because I look around and I see that persons whose lives are centered in Holy Scripture are still showing up to feed the poor and visit the sick and cloth the naked, and I trust that.
I also trust our sacramental life, although it might seem very odd to someone unfamiliar with its truth. We have been understandably misunderstood as we consume the body and blood of our Lord, sprinkle our babies with water and dribble oil on our foreheads. And yet, I trust our sacraments to bring us and sustain us in new life.
As an adult returning to the Church, it was a leap of faith just to walk through the door. I wondered if we were all just parroting long outdated concepts and actions. I started by looking at church people I knew whom I believed to be trustworthy, and I relied on their experience to carry me back to the altar rail. But for me to remain here, I had to have some actual experience of my own. I now trust our sacraments, but not just because the Book of Common Prayer tells me that they are outward and visible signs of inward spiritual Grace. I trust the sacraments because I have been changed and I observe that you are changed as well.
I have experienced a bond in the Body of Christ with even the tiniest child whose hand stretches out toward the consecrated host. I have felt the burdens of sorrow and fear ease within myself and in others when a blessing is pronounced or a baby baptized or a loved one commended to the earth and to God’s perpetual light.
I have watched you gather for croquet tournaments and music events and the Christmas pageant, but also for less-fun occupations like committee meetings and grounds upkeep and hospital visits and for trips to an impoverished Haiti, all when you could have been pursuing only your own self-focused ends. And, most remarkable to me, I have done the same. I have prayed when I would rather watch TV and I have gotten up when I would rather stay in bed and I have been here on occasions when I would have preferred to be somewhere else….and so have you. And I trust that.
The spirit God has given us shows up in love and kindness and compassion, and in offerings of time and money and labor and talent and sacrifice for the well- being of one another, and I trust that.
How do I respond to the atheist and to the questions of my own heart? What do I mean when I say that I believe in God? For me, it means that God has shown God’s trustworthiness to me over and over again in the world, in myself, and in you.
As long as the outcomes of our life together remain trustworthy, as long as we are bringing illumination and life and healing and joy into the world, I can with integrity affirm my faith and strive to live out my baptismal covenant.. Sometimes it takes a bit of patience and what seems like a whole lot of mustard seeds before I can see the Glory of God shine forth in the hard parts of the world, but God, and God in you, hasn’t let me down yet. Amen.
