The cycle of readings has moved from Job to Hosea. This is another book of the Bible which is all too often skimmed over, without much thought.
Hosea’s life becomes a metaphor for the relationship between God and Israel. He takes a wife (Gomer), who forsakes him for others. In today’s section (Chapter 2:2-15) Hosea begs the children, born to his wife, to remind her that all she possess came from Hosea, not those with whom she has played the harlot.
It is easy to fall into the same trap a Gomer. It is easy to see that which is in our field of vision, rather than the thing which lies behind or supports from underneath.
I realized this morning my own tendency to credit teachers with great insights, neglecting that the Truths which they passed on originated in God.
Looking beyond that which is immediately before us is tough. It is difficult in a world of instant gratification and attention seeking behaviors. Few have the discipline to examine our lives and reflect on the source of our fortune. Such reflection is called prayer – the kind of prayer where we do some of the talking, but leave time for God to speak back to us.
Gomer was so caught up in the events and excitement of her world that she neglected to understand the true source of her security. As a result, this was placed in peril. Hosea (who takes on the metaphorical role of God) remains faithful to her; seeks her out, and works to reclaim her. The events of their life are painful to read, but comforting to know that even when we don’t turn to God, God continues to come to us.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Sermon - October 10, 2010
Pentecost 20 – Year C
Luke 17:11-19
The Gift or the Giver
When I was in college, and involved in campus ministry, there was a book which became popular among us. It is a book by Martin Bell, titled The Way of the Wolf. You can imagine my surprise, about four years ago, when one of the students (Gavin Richards) bought a copy at a used book sale, brought it on one of our trips, and started reading chapters to the students. It brought back memories.
One of the chapters in Bell’s book retells the events related in today’s Gospel lesson. He gives this chapter the name, “Where are the nine?” He repeats Jesus’ question, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they?” Bell then goes on to explore where the nine might have gone. His exploration is not a condemnation. He does not find fault with them; he explains their actions in the kindest of ways. The nine did as they were told – they continued on their way to show themselves to the priest.
But there is this one who does return. The story tells us that he was a Samaritan, a non-Jew. And we cannot overlook Jesus’ final words in this exchange. It serves as a bookend to the stories we read last Sunday – the story of faith the size of mustard seed. It is this little bit of faith, active in the life of this Samaritan, which overcomes his leprosy. This faith, this seemingly small think tucked away inside us, makes it possible for us to respond appropriately to marvelous gifts of a gracious and merciful God.
The story begins by noting that Jesus is passing between the regions of Samaria and Galilee. At the gate of a particular village he is greeted by 10 lepers. Leprosy was a dreaded and greatly misunderstood disease. Most forms of leprosy are neurological, thus non-communicable. But in Jesus' age they didn't understand this. All they knew were the hideous and painful effects. No one wanted to do anything that might put them at risk of catching the disease. A leper could not visit public places, they could not enter the temple. They were removed from their families, living in colonies on the outskirts of town. If they did encounter others on the road, they were to yell out "Unclean" so others could avoid them.
10 individuals, afflicted with this disease, greet Jesus as he is about to enter the village. But they do not lift up their voices shouting “Unclean.” Instead they begin to shout, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us." They seem to know who Jesus is. They must have heard stories of other healings he had performed. They call him "Master". They realize his ability to heal. This is so evident that they even find it unnecessary to ask for healing. All they say to him is "Have mercy upon us.” Surely, if he is a prophet of God, he would have mercy upon those so cruelly afflicted.
The ten lepers know who Jesus is; they know his ability to heal. There is an element of faith, be it as small as a mustard seed, which causes them to turn to him for help. Further evidence of their trust in Jesus is the fact that they do as Jesus asks. Let me repeat that - Further evidence of their trust in Jesus is the fact that they do as Jesus asks. What Jesus asks them to do – what Jesus instructs them to do – is show themselves to the Priest. Jesus doesn't snap his fingers and say, “Be cleansed!” He tells them to "Go and show yourselves to the priests." If, immediately upon hearing Jesus' voice, the 10 had looked at their sores, they may have still been there. It is only after they have begun to do as Jesus asks that the healing occurs. They rush on their way, trusting that whatever Jesus asks of them they must do.
The gospel writer presents what happens next as if there really were only one choice: Of course you would return to the one who had made this healing possible. But think about it for a moment. They are not going to the priests because they thought it would be a good idea. They are going because Jesus told them to go. Perhaps all of them thought of returning to give Jesus thanks. The nine simply decided to do as Jesus instructed.
The lepers had come to Jesus asking for mercy. He responded by making them clean. We have already explored the fact that they believed in Jesus, otherwise they would not have come to him and followed his instruction. Why then, are the nine criticized? What have they done wrong? They are doing exactly as Jesus instructed.
What if they had turned back? Might it be possible, that he, who told them to go to the priests, could have been angered by their disobedience? Their refusal to do as he asked may have been sufficient provocation for him to have reversed their healing. To return might have jeopardized the gift of mercy just bestowed upon them.
With this in mind, why would anyone return? What possible reason would anyone have for reversing their path and going to look for the one who had provided this wonderful gift?
The only possible reason for returning would be if we found the gift less important than the giver of the gift. Only someone who is willing to risk the gift for the pleasure of offering praise to the giver would have returned.
Faith has many twists and turns, but none is more confusing than this one. How could it be that the Samaritan would risk what he had just received in order to return to Jesus? How could the other nine not return, considering how close they had come to God's own Messiah?
The Greek word used in the last phrase and translated for us as “made you well” has a double meaning. In normal usage, the word would ordinarily be rendered "save". The Samaritan realizes that he has indeed been made well. That is good, but he also realizes has encountered the one who can truly "save" him. The other nine had faith that Jesus could heal them. They exploited him for this gift. Perhaps they had no desire for anything more. They do not return to him because they had already gotten from him all that they wanted.
So many people come to the Church because they need to be healed. They need to be cleansed of their fear of death, of their feelings of isolation. That's great. That is why the church is here - to provide the gifts which God so freely bestows upon those who have faith. Glad to be of service. But the heart of the story we tell has little to do with what we get out of all of this. At the core of our confessions is an invitation to devote our lives to the praise of the One who stands ready to give us these gifts. The aim of a Christian is not to get to heaven; the aim of a Christian is to praise Christ.
In the story, all 10 are cleansed. All those who cry out to Jesus are made well. But only one realizes that the gift, as great as it may be, is nothing in comparison to the giver of the gift. He does not revel in the gift; he does not lift it up high so others can see what he has acquired; forgetting the gift, he turns to the giver, and gives thanks.
AMEN.
Luke 17:11-19
The Gift or the Giver
When I was in college, and involved in campus ministry, there was a book which became popular among us. It is a book by Martin Bell, titled The Way of the Wolf. You can imagine my surprise, about four years ago, when one of the students (Gavin Richards) bought a copy at a used book sale, brought it on one of our trips, and started reading chapters to the students. It brought back memories.
One of the chapters in Bell’s book retells the events related in today’s Gospel lesson. He gives this chapter the name, “Where are the nine?” He repeats Jesus’ question, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they?” Bell then goes on to explore where the nine might have gone. His exploration is not a condemnation. He does not find fault with them; he explains their actions in the kindest of ways. The nine did as they were told – they continued on their way to show themselves to the priest.
But there is this one who does return. The story tells us that he was a Samaritan, a non-Jew. And we cannot overlook Jesus’ final words in this exchange. It serves as a bookend to the stories we read last Sunday – the story of faith the size of mustard seed. It is this little bit of faith, active in the life of this Samaritan, which overcomes his leprosy. This faith, this seemingly small think tucked away inside us, makes it possible for us to respond appropriately to marvelous gifts of a gracious and merciful God.
The story begins by noting that Jesus is passing between the regions of Samaria and Galilee. At the gate of a particular village he is greeted by 10 lepers. Leprosy was a dreaded and greatly misunderstood disease. Most forms of leprosy are neurological, thus non-communicable. But in Jesus' age they didn't understand this. All they knew were the hideous and painful effects. No one wanted to do anything that might put them at risk of catching the disease. A leper could not visit public places, they could not enter the temple. They were removed from their families, living in colonies on the outskirts of town. If they did encounter others on the road, they were to yell out "Unclean" so others could avoid them.
10 individuals, afflicted with this disease, greet Jesus as he is about to enter the village. But they do not lift up their voices shouting “Unclean.” Instead they begin to shout, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us." They seem to know who Jesus is. They must have heard stories of other healings he had performed. They call him "Master". They realize his ability to heal. This is so evident that they even find it unnecessary to ask for healing. All they say to him is "Have mercy upon us.” Surely, if he is a prophet of God, he would have mercy upon those so cruelly afflicted.
The ten lepers know who Jesus is; they know his ability to heal. There is an element of faith, be it as small as a mustard seed, which causes them to turn to him for help. Further evidence of their trust in Jesus is the fact that they do as Jesus asks. Let me repeat that - Further evidence of their trust in Jesus is the fact that they do as Jesus asks. What Jesus asks them to do – what Jesus instructs them to do – is show themselves to the Priest. Jesus doesn't snap his fingers and say, “Be cleansed!” He tells them to "Go and show yourselves to the priests." If, immediately upon hearing Jesus' voice, the 10 had looked at their sores, they may have still been there. It is only after they have begun to do as Jesus asks that the healing occurs. They rush on their way, trusting that whatever Jesus asks of them they must do.
The gospel writer presents what happens next as if there really were only one choice: Of course you would return to the one who had made this healing possible. But think about it for a moment. They are not going to the priests because they thought it would be a good idea. They are going because Jesus told them to go. Perhaps all of them thought of returning to give Jesus thanks. The nine simply decided to do as Jesus instructed.
The lepers had come to Jesus asking for mercy. He responded by making them clean. We have already explored the fact that they believed in Jesus, otherwise they would not have come to him and followed his instruction. Why then, are the nine criticized? What have they done wrong? They are doing exactly as Jesus instructed.
What if they had turned back? Might it be possible, that he, who told them to go to the priests, could have been angered by their disobedience? Their refusal to do as he asked may have been sufficient provocation for him to have reversed their healing. To return might have jeopardized the gift of mercy just bestowed upon them.
With this in mind, why would anyone return? What possible reason would anyone have for reversing their path and going to look for the one who had provided this wonderful gift?
The only possible reason for returning would be if we found the gift less important than the giver of the gift. Only someone who is willing to risk the gift for the pleasure of offering praise to the giver would have returned.
Faith has many twists and turns, but none is more confusing than this one. How could it be that the Samaritan would risk what he had just received in order to return to Jesus? How could the other nine not return, considering how close they had come to God's own Messiah?
The Greek word used in the last phrase and translated for us as “made you well” has a double meaning. In normal usage, the word would ordinarily be rendered "save". The Samaritan realizes that he has indeed been made well. That is good, but he also realizes has encountered the one who can truly "save" him. The other nine had faith that Jesus could heal them. They exploited him for this gift. Perhaps they had no desire for anything more. They do not return to him because they had already gotten from him all that they wanted.
So many people come to the Church because they need to be healed. They need to be cleansed of their fear of death, of their feelings of isolation. That's great. That is why the church is here - to provide the gifts which God so freely bestows upon those who have faith. Glad to be of service. But the heart of the story we tell has little to do with what we get out of all of this. At the core of our confessions is an invitation to devote our lives to the praise of the One who stands ready to give us these gifts. The aim of a Christian is not to get to heaven; the aim of a Christian is to praise Christ.
In the story, all 10 are cleansed. All those who cry out to Jesus are made well. But only one realizes that the gift, as great as it may be, is nothing in comparison to the giver of the gift. He does not revel in the gift; he does not lift it up high so others can see what he has acquired; forgetting the gift, he turns to the giver, and gives thanks.
AMEN.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Devotion - Thursday, October 7
“You only get one chance to make a first impression.” I imagine you have heard this at least once in your life. Last year, a retired personnel manager offered advice to our graduating seniors, about start looking for jobs. He said, “Perfect your 15 second, self-introduction. Choose your words carefully.”
In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus’ first public proclamation is in Nazareth. He goes to the synagogue, and when he has the opportunity to speak he asks for the Book of Isaiah. He unrolls the scroll and these are the words that he reads: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.” When he finishes reading, Mark tells us that his next words are these: “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”
This was Jesus’ 15 second self-introduction; these verses set a first impression. We, his followers, ought to commit them to memory and look for opportunities to actualize their imperatives.
Just as Christian faith comes to us in community; it activates us into our community. The faith of Jesus is a faith is a faith which brings changes in our hearts, but also in our world. It is too little a thing that the Word of God would impact our attitudes alone. Surely it will change the way we live.
The poor, the blind, those who are oppressed – these are those whom Jesus lifts up in his inaugural sermon. As his followers, we lift them up, too.
In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus’ first public proclamation is in Nazareth. He goes to the synagogue, and when he has the opportunity to speak he asks for the Book of Isaiah. He unrolls the scroll and these are the words that he reads: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.” When he finishes reading, Mark tells us that his next words are these: “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”
This was Jesus’ 15 second self-introduction; these verses set a first impression. We, his followers, ought to commit them to memory and look for opportunities to actualize their imperatives.
Just as Christian faith comes to us in community; it activates us into our community. The faith of Jesus is a faith is a faith which brings changes in our hearts, but also in our world. It is too little a thing that the Word of God would impact our attitudes alone. Surely it will change the way we live.
The poor, the blind, those who are oppressed – these are those whom Jesus lifts up in his inaugural sermon. As his followers, we lift them up, too.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Devotion - Wednesday, October 6
This morning’s Gospel lesson is from Luke 4 – the temptation of Jesus. With the aid of Evelyn Underhill, English novelist and poet, I found a connection in these verses with a point made at our pre-seminary discussion group.
Many authors have attempted to bring the temptations of Jesus down from their lofty descriptions and show how they are repeated in our lives. We are infrequently taken to the pinnacle of the Temple or shown all the Kingdoms of the world. But we are tempted, often tempted, with the temptations of Christ.
There are “those who think first of their own spiritual hunger, and the imperative duty of feeding their own souls; those for whom the spiritual life means spiritual privilege – who defy common sense, take foolish risks, and call the proceedings ‘trust in God’…. The New Testament contains no single instance in which our Lord sought or obtained a private spiritual advantage.”
The highly privatized spiritual life lived out by so many in our culture needs to be considered against the backdrop of the events recorded in Luke 4. These verses ought to aid us in avoiding the temptation of looking upon our Christian calling as some sort of spiritual advantage or advance placement. The call to discipleship is a call to serve others, to share our bread with others, to devote our days to glorifying God.
Contemporary culture looks to see how a gift might set us apart from those around us. The way of Christ encourages us to consider how we might more completely lose our self-centeredness.
Many authors have attempted to bring the temptations of Jesus down from their lofty descriptions and show how they are repeated in our lives. We are infrequently taken to the pinnacle of the Temple or shown all the Kingdoms of the world. But we are tempted, often tempted, with the temptations of Christ.
There are “those who think first of their own spiritual hunger, and the imperative duty of feeding their own souls; those for whom the spiritual life means spiritual privilege – who defy common sense, take foolish risks, and call the proceedings ‘trust in God’…. The New Testament contains no single instance in which our Lord sought or obtained a private spiritual advantage.”
The highly privatized spiritual life lived out by so many in our culture needs to be considered against the backdrop of the events recorded in Luke 4. These verses ought to aid us in avoiding the temptation of looking upon our Christian calling as some sort of spiritual advantage or advance placement. The call to discipleship is a call to serve others, to share our bread with others, to devote our days to glorifying God.
Contemporary culture looks to see how a gift might set us apart from those around us. The way of Christ encourages us to consider how we might more completely lose our self-centeredness.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Devotion - Tuesday, October 5
This morning I was reading from the Book of Acts the accounts involving Apollos. In Acts 18 we learn of this man, who comes to Ephesus. He is a powerful speaker and able to refute those who opposed the message of Jesus. In I Corinthians, Paul speaks of Apollos, and the ways in which the two of them serve the Church. Paul acknowledges that their roles differ. Paul plants; Apollos waters. Paul lays the foundation; Apollos builds upon it.
Too infrequently, we give thought to those who have played various roles in our faith development. Typically, we latch onto one mentor or guide and attribute to them all the positive movement in our understanding and service. In reality, no one can build unless there is a foundation; no one can encourage growth were no seeds have been planted.
The additional advantage to remembering the various influences in our lives is the ability to see differences (sometimes subtle, sometimes profound) in those who have aided us. Paul and Apollos had their differences. Why would we expect there to be none between our models of faith? Recognizing and naming these differences allows us to see our own understanding being cobbled together out of various thoughts and beliefs.
Too infrequently, we give thought to those who have played various roles in our faith development. Typically, we latch onto one mentor or guide and attribute to them all the positive movement in our understanding and service. In reality, no one can build unless there is a foundation; no one can encourage growth were no seeds have been planted.
The additional advantage to remembering the various influences in our lives is the ability to see differences (sometimes subtle, sometimes profound) in those who have aided us. Paul and Apollos had their differences. Why would we expect there to be none between our models of faith? Recognizing and naming these differences allows us to see our own understanding being cobbled together out of various thoughts and beliefs.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Devotion - Monday, October 4
The cycle of readings I follow has me reading through Esther. Esther is a marvelous book, part of the Old Testament collection referred to as Wisdom Literature. It was also the subject of a recent conversation between myself and a student who thought he could stump me with a question.
Esther, a Jew, is selected by the King to be his Queen. But don’t think of Queen Elizabeth; this queen has no power or stature – even in the King’s house. She cannot approach him or his rooms without an invitation.
Esther has an uncle, Mordecai, who becomes aware of a plot by one of the King’s administrators to destroy all the Jews. Mordecai comes to Esther, to ask her help. When she responds, “What can I do?” Mordecai reminds her, “Who knows, perhaps you have come to the kingdom for a time such as this.”
Even though Esther has not been invited into the King’s presence for the past 30 days, she decides to risk her own life by seeking an invitation to his court.
“Who knows, perhaps you have come to the kingdom for a time such as this.” Esther is challenged to see herself as the one person able to make a difference. Esther is encouraged to think of what she might do and to understand that her actions might be the most crucial of all.
How differently we would go about our tasks if we shared Esther’s perspective. How often would we stop to do the right thing, the helpful thing – rather than passing the moment by and thinking that someone else will take care of it. “Perhaps you have come to kingdom for a time such as this.”
Here was the attempt at stumping me – Esther is the only book in the Bible which does not include God’s name. God is present in all that happens, but remains unnamed. I remembered this from my earlier readings of this book. It reminds me that the work God calls upon us to do is not always carried out in the place where God’s name rolls easily off our tongues (church.) Quite often, our time to serve the kingdom happens in the places which are thoroughly secular.
Who knows….
Esther, a Jew, is selected by the King to be his Queen. But don’t think of Queen Elizabeth; this queen has no power or stature – even in the King’s house. She cannot approach him or his rooms without an invitation.
Esther has an uncle, Mordecai, who becomes aware of a plot by one of the King’s administrators to destroy all the Jews. Mordecai comes to Esther, to ask her help. When she responds, “What can I do?” Mordecai reminds her, “Who knows, perhaps you have come to the kingdom for a time such as this.”
Even though Esther has not been invited into the King’s presence for the past 30 days, she decides to risk her own life by seeking an invitation to his court.
“Who knows, perhaps you have come to the kingdom for a time such as this.” Esther is challenged to see herself as the one person able to make a difference. Esther is encouraged to think of what she might do and to understand that her actions might be the most crucial of all.
How differently we would go about our tasks if we shared Esther’s perspective. How often would we stop to do the right thing, the helpful thing – rather than passing the moment by and thinking that someone else will take care of it. “Perhaps you have come to kingdom for a time such as this.”
Here was the attempt at stumping me – Esther is the only book in the Bible which does not include God’s name. God is present in all that happens, but remains unnamed. I remembered this from my earlier readings of this book. It reminds me that the work God calls upon us to do is not always carried out in the place where God’s name rolls easily off our tongues (church.) Quite often, our time to serve the kingdom happens in the places which are thoroughly secular.
Who knows….
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Sermon - Sunday, October 3, 2010
Pentecost 19 - Year C
Luke 17:5-10
Having All That is Needed
Things around here really take a beating the weeks leading up to Homecoming. We started the Habitat house a week ago Wednesday. Since then, I might have been in the office for a total of thirty minutes. The mix-up with the liturgies for this morning was in no small way traceable to my absence. But that is only the start of it. The third time I called back to the house to ask Laura to send me something I had left behind; she enlisted help from Cindy to try and figure out what was wrong with me. On Thursday, I completely forgot the Pre-seminary group meeting.
This is the seventeenth year of building Homecoming Habitat houses. And I would be the first to admit that I have lost more than a few steps since that first year. No arguments from me on that one. However, even though I have aged, lost a lot of hair, and picked up more pounds than I care to admit, the house got finished faster and looks better. It is a stronger effort now than it was before. Stronger, better for one reason and one reason only – a lot more mustard seeds. More folks doing a little something and fewer taking on a heavier load than they should.
This is the perspective taken on today’s Gospel reading by one of my colleagues. He reminded a group of us, that when we hear Jesus’ words about faith the size of a mustard seed, we tend to hear it as a comment to us, individually. “You”, as in “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed,” is heard in the singular. In reality, the original hearers would have been more inclined to understand it as plural. Jesus is speaking of the faith shared among all those to whom he speaks. It is this little bit of faith, shared among the company as a whole, which would make possible the great feats of which Jesus speaks.
We already know this to be true. It is played out in so many differing ways. Those who set out on their own seldom accomplish much. They may have a momentary flash in the pan; they may begin to build an impressive monument to themselves. But rarely do these last. It is that which is shared which has the ability to endure.
No one person can carry the weight. It must be shared. It is shared as we pass it back and forth, one to another. Should we ever be tempted to hold it as if it were our own, it wouldn’t look like much. But when it is shared, we see it as the thing of wonder which it is.
Amid the craziness of these past two weeks, there has been a lot of passing back and forth of this mustard seed of faith. I had the pleasure of observing its movement, seeing its power. Because of my preoccupation with the Habitat house, I observed rather than deceiving myself into thinking that I was in any way responsible for this evidence of the faith we share. It showed itself with regard to deaths in the extended families of the students.
It is difficult to locate a starting point. I guess it would need to be the death of Chris Olsen’s father in mid-March, followed by the death of Maglin & William’s grandfather. But it may have had its beginnings when Lauren’s grandmother died last fall. Ashley’s father died in April. Also in the spring, our student community experienced the deaths of Derek’s Grandfather, David & Andrew’s Grandfather, and Chris’ grandmother. During the summer, Sarah’s brother was killed in an auto accident. Just as the year was starting up, it was the maternal grandfather of Kyle and Matthew who died. Josh’s grandfather was next, followed by Sarah’s grandmother. Most recently, it was the news that Kyle and Matthew had lost their paternal grandfather. This weekend, Caleb headed home in order to tell his grandmother good-bye. They are anticipating death at any moment. (My fear is that I have left someone off the list. For that, I apologize.)
Now, this is a lot of grief to bear. And if any one person thought they were capable of navigating their way through it alone, they would be terribly mistaken. However, by sharing the burden, by sharing the faith which is ours to share, we are making it through.
These past two weeks, as members of the community would come by the Habitat house, they would give me updates. Travis was visiting Kyle when Ben and Anita returned from attending to the affairs of the elder Mr. Edge. He gave me an update. I think it was Josh who saw Sarah’s post about her grandmother and responded. Leslie attended the funeral last Saturday and shared with those of us who could not attend what a celebration of life it was. Each one, passing to another, ever so gently, this tiny little mustard seed we call faith. This thing which seems so small and vulnerable, but has a life and a promise and a power beyond all measure.
Should we ever be tempted to hold it as if it were our own, it wouldn’t look like much. But when it is shared, we see it as the thing of wonder which it is.
When our own faith is too thin, it is the faith of those around us which sustains us. When we are not sure, it is confidence in what other persons of faith are doing that sees us through.
The apostles say to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” They had seen him work countless other miracles; surely, he could handle this one. He hears their request, I am sure that he does, but he doesn’t meet it. He does not “increase” anything in them. Rather, he tells them that what they have is enough. He assures them that even the tiniest kernel of faith will see them through. “If you have 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.”
All too often we mishear this and think that Jesus is setting some baseline for faith. We mistakenly think that he is saying, you need to amass enough faith to make trees abandon their God-given location and go to some place where they are no good to anyone and will surely die. Jesus isn’t setting some impenetrable baseline – he is assuring us that what we have is enough. It is plenty.
This Gospel story is in that in-between time. The time between realizing that Jesus’ life will end with rejection and crucifixion and time when they will enter Jerusalem and see all this come to pass. What the apostles are about to face is going to be tough. There will be days, many days, when their faith will seem to be too thin to sustain the life they have taken on. Jesus wants to assure them that their faith isn’t too small, even if it is only the size of a mustard seed. It is enough. It is not the amount of faith which one has which matters; what matters is the One with whom that faith connects us. Our faith connects us to those who, like ourselves, have come to believe and trust. Our faith connects us to the God who assures us that we have been given all we need in order to survive, all we need in order to preserver.
Martin Luther once described the Church as one poor slob in the ditch, trying to help another poor slob out of the ditch. We are in this constant struggle to find the confidence we need. Jesus tells his disciples not to worry about amassing enough to do great things. “The little bit you already have,” he tells us, “is enough. Share it and see how easy the burden becomes.”
Amen.
Luke 17:5-10
Having All That is Needed
Things around here really take a beating the weeks leading up to Homecoming. We started the Habitat house a week ago Wednesday. Since then, I might have been in the office for a total of thirty minutes. The mix-up with the liturgies for this morning was in no small way traceable to my absence. But that is only the start of it. The third time I called back to the house to ask Laura to send me something I had left behind; she enlisted help from Cindy to try and figure out what was wrong with me. On Thursday, I completely forgot the Pre-seminary group meeting.
This is the seventeenth year of building Homecoming Habitat houses. And I would be the first to admit that I have lost more than a few steps since that first year. No arguments from me on that one. However, even though I have aged, lost a lot of hair, and picked up more pounds than I care to admit, the house got finished faster and looks better. It is a stronger effort now than it was before. Stronger, better for one reason and one reason only – a lot more mustard seeds. More folks doing a little something and fewer taking on a heavier load than they should.
This is the perspective taken on today’s Gospel reading by one of my colleagues. He reminded a group of us, that when we hear Jesus’ words about faith the size of a mustard seed, we tend to hear it as a comment to us, individually. “You”, as in “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed,” is heard in the singular. In reality, the original hearers would have been more inclined to understand it as plural. Jesus is speaking of the faith shared among all those to whom he speaks. It is this little bit of faith, shared among the company as a whole, which would make possible the great feats of which Jesus speaks.
We already know this to be true. It is played out in so many differing ways. Those who set out on their own seldom accomplish much. They may have a momentary flash in the pan; they may begin to build an impressive monument to themselves. But rarely do these last. It is that which is shared which has the ability to endure.
No one person can carry the weight. It must be shared. It is shared as we pass it back and forth, one to another. Should we ever be tempted to hold it as if it were our own, it wouldn’t look like much. But when it is shared, we see it as the thing of wonder which it is.
Amid the craziness of these past two weeks, there has been a lot of passing back and forth of this mustard seed of faith. I had the pleasure of observing its movement, seeing its power. Because of my preoccupation with the Habitat house, I observed rather than deceiving myself into thinking that I was in any way responsible for this evidence of the faith we share. It showed itself with regard to deaths in the extended families of the students.
It is difficult to locate a starting point. I guess it would need to be the death of Chris Olsen’s father in mid-March, followed by the death of Maglin & William’s grandfather. But it may have had its beginnings when Lauren’s grandmother died last fall. Ashley’s father died in April. Also in the spring, our student community experienced the deaths of Derek’s Grandfather, David & Andrew’s Grandfather, and Chris’ grandmother. During the summer, Sarah’s brother was killed in an auto accident. Just as the year was starting up, it was the maternal grandfather of Kyle and Matthew who died. Josh’s grandfather was next, followed by Sarah’s grandmother. Most recently, it was the news that Kyle and Matthew had lost their paternal grandfather. This weekend, Caleb headed home in order to tell his grandmother good-bye. They are anticipating death at any moment. (My fear is that I have left someone off the list. For that, I apologize.)
Now, this is a lot of grief to bear. And if any one person thought they were capable of navigating their way through it alone, they would be terribly mistaken. However, by sharing the burden, by sharing the faith which is ours to share, we are making it through.
These past two weeks, as members of the community would come by the Habitat house, they would give me updates. Travis was visiting Kyle when Ben and Anita returned from attending to the affairs of the elder Mr. Edge. He gave me an update. I think it was Josh who saw Sarah’s post about her grandmother and responded. Leslie attended the funeral last Saturday and shared with those of us who could not attend what a celebration of life it was. Each one, passing to another, ever so gently, this tiny little mustard seed we call faith. This thing which seems so small and vulnerable, but has a life and a promise and a power beyond all measure.
Should we ever be tempted to hold it as if it were our own, it wouldn’t look like much. But when it is shared, we see it as the thing of wonder which it is.
When our own faith is too thin, it is the faith of those around us which sustains us. When we are not sure, it is confidence in what other persons of faith are doing that sees us through.
The apostles say to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” They had seen him work countless other miracles; surely, he could handle this one. He hears their request, I am sure that he does, but he doesn’t meet it. He does not “increase” anything in them. Rather, he tells them that what they have is enough. He assures them that even the tiniest kernel of faith will see them through. “If you have 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.”
All too often we mishear this and think that Jesus is setting some baseline for faith. We mistakenly think that he is saying, you need to amass enough faith to make trees abandon their God-given location and go to some place where they are no good to anyone and will surely die. Jesus isn’t setting some impenetrable baseline – he is assuring us that what we have is enough. It is plenty.
This Gospel story is in that in-between time. The time between realizing that Jesus’ life will end with rejection and crucifixion and time when they will enter Jerusalem and see all this come to pass. What the apostles are about to face is going to be tough. There will be days, many days, when their faith will seem to be too thin to sustain the life they have taken on. Jesus wants to assure them that their faith isn’t too small, even if it is only the size of a mustard seed. It is enough. It is not the amount of faith which one has which matters; what matters is the One with whom that faith connects us. Our faith connects us to those who, like ourselves, have come to believe and trust. Our faith connects us to the God who assures us that we have been given all we need in order to survive, all we need in order to preserver.
Martin Luther once described the Church as one poor slob in the ditch, trying to help another poor slob out of the ditch. We are in this constant struggle to find the confidence we need. Jesus tells his disciples not to worry about amassing enough to do great things. “The little bit you already have,” he tells us, “is enough. Share it and see how easy the burden becomes.”
Amen.
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