Just a Little Faith - 10-2-22
Just a Little Faith
Ps 37:1-9; Luke 17:5-10
Ps 37:1-9
Do not fret because of the wicked; do not be envious of wrongdoers, for they will soon fade like the grass, and wither like the green herb. Trust in the Lord, and do good; so you will live in the land, and enjoy security. Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him, and he will act. He will make your vindication shine like the light, and the justice of your cause like the noonday. Be still before the Lord, and wait patiently for him; do not fret over those who prosper in their way, over those who carry out evil devices. Refrain from anger, and forsake wrath. Do not fret—it leads only to evil. For the wicked shall be cut off, but those who wait for the Lord shall inherit the land.
Luke 17:5-10
The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” The Lord replied, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you. “Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table’? Would you not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink’? Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’”
Prayer - Lord, we confess that sometimes it’s hard to believe all that scripture claims for your name. We stand and say, “I believe,” when inside we’re saying, “I’m not so sure.” Lord Jesus, we want to believe in you, to have sure confidence in you and your love through our good times and bad. But sometimes, when we feel buffeted by life, our faith seems unequal to the task. The warm, vibrant, initial trust that we felt in you seems to wilt. Increase our faith. Help us to see that our believing no matter how small, matters, that you not only call us to believe in you but also to follow, serve, represent, work with you. Open our eyes to see the ways that you are using us to perform your work in the world. As we go about our daily lives, instill in us the faith that we have what it takes to be your faithful disciples and that our works in your name are not in vain. Amen.
Our passage this morning is framed by the parable of the rich man and Lazarus on one side, and the Samaritan leper who returns to give thanks on the other. It constitutes the second half of a four-part series of loosely connected teachings related to discipleship, which may be summarized like this: 1) Don’t be the cause of another person’s sin; 2) Forgive, again and again and again; 3) Miniscule faith is sufficient; and 4) Discipleship isn’t about rewards.
Jesus is headed towards Jerusalem, healing and teaching in route. Traveling with him are disciples and apostles. Crowds are gathered – people have come for healings, challengers have come to ask unanswerable questions – all have come to find answers of faith. Casting a long shadow over all of these encounters is the cross standing tall on the horizon. It is a sobering thought to recognize one’s capacity to cause another’s stumbling, despite intentions otherwise. Plus, it is hard enough to forgive someone who shoots kids in a schoolyard or classroom, but to forgive them seven times in a single day??? I’m not sure my faith, or anyone else’s faith is strong enough to forgive such an act and yet, that is what Jesus wants of us, the capacity for compassion and forgiveness even in the unimaginable circumstance. No wonder the disciples are asking Jesus for a transfusion of faith, hopeful that it may resurrect whatever may be waning.
The apostles say to Jesus, “Increase our faith!” to which Jesus responds, “I’ll enable you to increase your faithfulness.” Jesus says to them, “You don’t need much faith to do what I command. If you had the faith of a mustard see, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” Jesus isn’t giving radical direction on landscaping, but he is saying that with just a little bit of faith in him, we are able to do some pretty dramatic things. Faith is known by its fruits and the fruit of just a little faith is mighty work.
So when it comes to faith, a word that may be translated as trust, confidence, commitment, and Jesus suggests that size doesn’t matter, even an incredibly small seed of faith holds tree-like possibilities. As a community of faith, we can live and act on the basis of whatever faith is ours individually as well as collectively, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem. We may or may not recall that even the immeasurable reign of God is compared to a mustard seed in Luke’s gospel.
It has been nearly 25 years ago and I was working at a hospital in Richmond, VA. We had a patient, a Pentecostal pastor known throughout the community for his fiery brand of preaching and his enormous heart of faith who had metastatic lung cancer and was clearly entering that final chapter of life. His daughter sat vigil by his bed, day in and out, praying fervently, trusting that her faith in God would result in a miracle of new life for her faithful father. After about two weeks, I was paged to his room to find out that he had died. His daughter, still by his side, wept bitterly because her faith, she believed, was too weak to save her dad. She was weeping and grieving that she had failed her father while also questioning God in that difficult moment of sorrow. It was no time for me to argue theology with her, to offer a reframed perspective of faith, yet in many ways I wish she could have understood that her faith, as big or small as it was, had absolutely nothing to do with her faithful father’s cure or death.
Like that daughter, many of us have a mixed faith, hoping, praying that Jesus will increase our faith. Thinking of those early followers of Jesus, people like Peter, James and John as well as Mary, Martha and the other Mary, all had left homes and jobs and families in order to follow Jesus. With a mixed faith that was sometimes huge and other times miniscule, they stuck around, even for this final journey to Jerusalem, and even when they had a pretty clear picture of what was waiting at the end of the road.
At the same time, in our own world’s days of turmoil, like this week in Florida as Hurricane Ian hit the west side of the state and traveled over to the east coast before moving up the coast, we can empathize with the wavering faith of those very same disciples who cried out when the winds roared and waves battered their small boat as they crossed the Sea of Galilee. Even as Jesus slept beside them, they were overwhelmed by a doubting faith. “Where is your faith,” Jesus asked, after calming the storm. Perhaps faith is a mixed bag, sometimes strong enough when encountering hurricane strength winds and rain and surges of water, while other times, not so much. Perhaps, proximity to Jesus doesn’t guarantee an unwavering faith.
It seems to me that the first disciples, like so many of us today, think that faith is something that can be quantified and so we think that it must somehow grow, that it is like that plant we put in the garden that grows and grows and grows, or in my case, how weeds grow. Sometimes I think we are like those early disciples who wonder if there is any way in the world we can live up to the presumed expectations of being a faith-full follower of Jesus. Note, I said, presumed, because for two thousand years the church has been ‘speaking for Jesus and most, if not all of the time, I believe, has been speaking more for the church than on Jesus’ behalf.’ I can imagine that many of us may feel overwhelmed by the demands we feel placed on us to be ‘good Christians,’ not certain by any means that we are up to the task, and wondering what we may have signed up for. Which very well may be the reason many folks prefer to be a believer rather than a faithful follower, because being a disciple is simply too dog gone hard.
I have been talking with my counselor recently, trying to process the last two plus years as a chaplain. We talked last week right before I left to go to NC for the President’s Cup. She asked me how I was doing with my grief, with my sense of helplessness, with my inability to fix any of the trauma and grief I experienced with countless Covid patients. I told her I was working on it, and described some of the things that I had been working on. In a moment of candor, she said to me, “I wasn’t involved in it like you were and my faith is wondering where God has been in the midst of so much sadness.” I let her statement sit in the air for a few moments and then I said, ‘So what is your faith saying about that?’ Like me, she is a minister, and she responded, “Well, I’ve been wrestling with how God could allow such senseless tragedy occur all over the world? I feel bad about questioning God, but what you experienced, I just can’t imagine, I just don’t know.” She went on to ask me, ‘where does your faith intersect with God? Does your sense of faith influence God’s presence or absence? I’m just not sure my faith is strong enough to make a difference.” I could have continued to engage her questions giving her room to figure out her answers but, honestly, this session was about me and my faith struggles. I shared with her where I had experienced God in those Covid rooms as I watched nurses and respiratory therapists and physicians and even housekeeping tirelessly work to make a difference for our Covid patients. As a chaplain I helped arrange countless video visits between families trapped outside the hospital while their loved ones lay dying. Nurses and chaplains like myself listened as families poured out love and encouragement to a critically ill loved one – we bore witness day by day to the love and sorrow that Covid brought to far too many people. Unit secretaries helped set up those video visits as well, and listened compassionately to goodbyes and I love yous every day. What I realized some time after Covid began to slow down was that God was in each of those rooms; God was present in every one of those painful video visits; God was in those homes where families had to face goodbyes without being by their loved ones. What I recognized and learned was that you don’t have to be a hero of faith to display your faith – just be one of those disciples who is willing to help out in a pinch, who is willing to bear witness to someone else’s pain, who is willing to extend a compassionate and present heart when things are hard as hell. In those moments, a little bit of doing reflects a whole lot of faith. My counselor affirmed my comments and then said, “I’m not sure my faith would have recognized any of that.” And honestly, time and space has given me a different perspective than when we were in the middle of the Pandemic. And yet, it was something bigger than me that got me through those dark days and nights of loss. It was God’s faithfulness and presence and maybe even assurance.
I can imagine that many of you have had moments, time like this as well. Days when your faith was impacted by events surrounding you – days when you faithfully begged for God to intercede and your pleas went unanswered. You may have been left wondering if God cared at all. I can imaging most if not all of us have had moments when we wondered if our faith made a difference in the world. This morning, Jesus is reminding me and reminding you, reminding us, that even the minutest smidgen of faith makes all the difference in the world. Our challenge is to trust that – may God bless us with belief in the face of our unbelief and may God add just a little bit of faithfulness when we need it most – thanks be to God – amen.