Luke 17:5-6
World Communion / 27th Ordinary Time
October 2, 2106
William G. Carter
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.”
It’s
comforting to me that the very people around Jesus wanted more faith. Maybe we’d
like to believe the first apostles were spiritual superstars, and according to
some legends, they were. But that simply was not true. In a flash of true honesty,
we hear the first followers of Jesus ask for more faith.
We
don’t know what prompts the request, and we don’t really need to ask. Walking
with Jesus could be really demanding. He told all those parables that sounded delightful,
but made people mad. He placed high demands on those who were closest to him.
And some days, he said things that pushed people to the limit.
Just
listen to what he’s been saying right before this request. If someone hurts
you, you must forgive them if they repent. If someone sins against you twice in
the same day, and turns to make amends, you must forgive them. And if someone
sins against you seven times in a single day, and turns back to you seven
times, you have no choice: you must forgive. Any questions? Yes?"
"Lord,
that’s impossible to do. Could you increase our faith?"
Perhaps
it is a feeling of inadequacy. Travel with Jesus, watch what he does, listen to
what he says, and you can begin to feel inadequate. "Be on your
guard," he said. "Everyone stumbles when they follow me, but woe to
you if you cause somebody who follows me to stumble. It would be better if a
millstone were hung around your neck, and you were thrown into deep
water."
Oh
my goodness. I reflect on all the times that I led somebody astray or gave them
bad advice, and I’ll be the first to cry out, "Lord, I need more
faith."
It
is difficult to be a Christian, to live like a Christian. It’s all too easy to
give in to the cynicism of our surroundings. If there’s a dark cloud over your
head, you might universalize the experience and declare the world is falling
apart. Hope slips away. Anxiety becomes a habit. You are tempted to give up.
The last act of defiance is a protest cry, “Lord, increase our faith.”
Anybody
can make that request, especially those who were closest to Jesus. The Gospel
writer calls them “apostles.” How interesting – that’s what the followers of
Jesus were called after the resurrection. They were not merely
disciples, because, technically speaking, disciples are students and
tag-alongs.
Apostles,
on the other hand, are those who are sent out on his behalf. Apostolos is a Greek term that comes
from the flower garden; it's a hardy plant that sends out a runner. It extends
itself outward, with strength and confidence. For Luke, the apostles are given
the power to go out to preach and heal (9:1-6). And yet, these very same
apostles come up short. Maybe it's too hard to heal, too difficult to preach. Maybe
the world is doing everything it can to get them to stop. So they say, “Increase
our faith.”
In
a world like this, the fact that anybody believes in God is a gift. We take
that for granted, but it's true. The apostle Paul once said, "Nobody can
believe that Jesus is Lord, except by the gift of the Holy Spirit." Faith
in Jesus is not a natural habit that we are born with. It's not like infant who
was born already knowing how to suck her thumb. No, faith is something else. It
is a gift, and we are always in the posture of receivers.
Henri
Nouwen once wrote we get faith only when we unfold our clenched fists into open
hands of trust. Faith is always a gift, given from the heart of God into our
open hearts. That's why the apostles said, "Lord, give us more."
Whatever the reason, they came up short. Their account at First Fidelity and
Trust had been drained dry. They wanted the Lord to make a sizable deposit in
their names. “We want more faith.”
What
Jesus had to say, both to them and to us, is not a word that provides any
immediate comfort. The apostles want faith, but it sounds like Jesus rubs their
noses in their own inadequacy. "You know," he says, "if you had
just a little bit of faith, you could work wonders. If your faith was about the
size of a little bitty mustard seed, you could say, 'Jump!' And that mulberry
tree over there with its extensive root system would leap into the air and land
in the sea."
“If
you had a little bit of faith,” Jesus says, "you could do that.” They wanted
more faith, and Jesus says, "If you had any faith, you could transplant a tree
to the Mediterranean."
Now,
I don’t have to tell you that’s ridiculous. Who wants to plant a tree in the
bottom of the ocean? Elsewhere when
Jesus talks like this, he talks of moving mountains. Take a second to let that
sink in: who wants to move a mountain? I have been to the mountains of British
Columbia; those mountains are so big, it might take 90 minutes to simply drive
around one of them. To move it is an act beyond the limits of reason and a
physical impossibility. And that is precisely the point Jesus is making.
You
see, they are having a conversation here about what faith really is. Faith is
not merely an anchor in distress or a feeling of security in times of change.
It is not a shot of adrenalin when you're weak, nor an inoculation against
doubt, nor even the comfortable assurance of a large crowd that agrees with
you. In this text, faith is the ability to see something that the world regards
as a fantasy.
Transplanting
a deep-rooted tree? The world says you can’t do it. Moving a mountain? The
world says that’s impossible. Yet as Jesus points us to the reality of God, he
invites us to envision something new, to hear something unheard of, to discover
a way out of darkness even when all the exit doors are locked. That’s the
Gospel – it is possible to forgive and to keep forgiving. It is possible for
the hungry to be fed. It is possible for the people who have been put down to
be lifted up. These things are possible because true faith can see it.
Give
us more faith? “You already have enough faith.” That’s what he is saying. Gospel
faith is not something we store up and increase. It is a seed planted within us
as we hear of a God who makes all things new. It’s a gift. And in this text Jesus
says, "You have it."
Let
me explain. The Greek language has two different clauses that begin with the
word "if." The first goes like this: "If I were you, and I'm
not, then I would go to church more.” That kind of “if” expresses a condition
contrary to fact (`if I were you` - and I'm not).
But
the second kind of “if" is a phrase that expresses a condition according
to fact. It goes like this: "If Jesus Christ is our Lord, and he is, then
we had better join him in his work." The phrase in our text is the second
type. You could translate it, "If you had faith (and you do), then you
could transplant trees, move mountains, and raise the dead with a single
word."[1]
You
see, Jesus is not chastising the apostles for their shallow spirituality. Rather
he affirms that they already have an ample supply of the very resource they
seek. For whatever reasons, these apostles sense their spiritual inadequacy.
Yet Jesus invites them to join in reciting the first creed spoken in the Gospel
of Luke. It's the word that an angel said to his own mother: "With God,
nothing will be impossible." (1:37) God has come to us in Jesus, and now
the Gospel can continue to work the grace of God.
As
Jesus said to the followers of John the Baptist, “Go and tell John what you
have seen and heard: the sightless can now see, the crippled can walk, the
lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good
news brought to them.” (Luke 7:22) Imagine that!
I
have a friend who’s a poet. He says the human imagination is a muscle. It needs
exercise to get it in shape. It needs to be utilized in order to be useful. And
if our imagination can be rooted in our faith, then the work God does through
us will only be limited by rule of God over us. If the society is mean-spirited,
we can work for justice and compassion. We can raise our children in uncertain
times. We can have hope for the world even if the people running for office act
like nincompoops.
Because
of God’s grace and power, we don’t have to be confined by the foolishness and
cruelty of this age. Imagine that! We can live in the grace of Jesus Christ.
And that seed of faith has already been planted in us.
So
we come to a Table. Someone hands us a little piece of bread and we imagine it
as a banquet. We glance around the room to see familiar faces, yet faith says
all the saints of God are dining with us. We take the little cup of dark
liquid, and we trust that in the blood of Jesus, all sin is forgiven and
nothing shall keep us from the love of God, nothing at all. Just a little seed
of faith is sufficient to welcome heaven here on earth, and that makes all the
difference. And it’s enough to welcome the loving rule of God into every corner
of our lives.
I
know there have been times when I have prayed with the apostles, "Lord,
increase my faith." But every time I do, I get the same answer. God says:
"What are you going to do with the faith I've given you?"
(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.
[1]
Fred B. Craddock, Interpretation:The
Gospel of Luke (Westminster John Knox) p. 200
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