Ramblings

“This Body, Too…” – 10/23/2016

Sermon preached at Abiding Presence Lutheran Church based on 2 Timothy 4: 6-8, 16-18. Did you make a New Year's resolution for 2016? Ten months into this year how's that working for you? Me? Not so well! I would help if I could remember what they were…I think it had to do about exercise or something…

Thank God, I am off the hook, because a study by the University of Scranton revealed that only 8 percent of people actually achieve any semblance of their New Year's goals! Which all means for many of us is that chances are that not only didn't we follow through on our resolutions but we are not alone.

Unfortunately today is not a good day to be reminded of my excuses regarding life goals or resolutions because today scripture readings challenge us to consider our lives for today, tomorrow and our remaining days. In fact, the real key to making and keeping life goals as Christians might actually be found today --- in all places --- Paul's letter to Timothy. Because according to Paul, the way to stay in the race of life is to dwell on the fact that we're all terminal. The Apostle Paul thinks we might benefit from thinking more about death. Why on earth would anybody suggest that?

Well, according to Paul, the contemplation of death in life can help us to shake out of our fear and anxiousness and help us to focus attention on a meaningful faith life and derive more satisfaction in our lives.

How should we begin this process that Paul suggests? Pauls' view is similar to an article published in the New York Times by Arthur C. Brooks. Why not start by looking at some pictures of corpses --- perhaps a coffee table book of dead people? Now hear me out. Brooks wrote, "Years ago on a visit to Thailand, I was surprised to learn that Buddhist monks often contemplate the photos of corpses in various stages of decay. The Buddha himself recommended corpse meditation. 'This body, too,' students were taught to say about their own bodies, 'such is its nature, and such is its future, such its unavoidable fate.'"

Meditating on one's own death, in other words, is a way of realigning our focus from the momentary to the big-picture. Do this and we may perhaps begin to renew our own finite lives. For example, have you ever taken the "Last Year" test?

It goes like this; If this were our last year to live, would we really watch so much TV, play so many video games, or play so much golf; nothing intrinsically wrong with those things, of course especially playing video games J But, would we read more books or fewer books? Would we spend more time or less time with friends? Would we spend more time or less time with family? Would we take more walks or fewer walks? Would we volunteer more or less? Would we eat more cookies and cream ice cream or less if this was our last year?

I would suspect for most of us, it's the immediate and the transitory that seems to undermine the long-term and the meaningful. And how do I know this, because one of the greatest examples of someone staring death in the face and focusing on what really matters comes to us as I mentioned earlier from the apostle Paul, who writes from his confinement in Rome to his young pastoral protégé Timothy.

Many scholars believe that the letter was written, along with 1 Timothy, during Paul's imprisonment during the persecutions of the Roman emperor Nero in the early 60s A.D. sometime after Paul had been released from his original house arrest in Rome that we read about in Acts 28. As I was recently reminded during my trip to Rome, Italy the persecutions under Nero were severe, and Paul would certainly have seen the writing on the wall that he, a well-known leader of the Christian movement, would himself soon be executed. As a Roman citizen, Paul would have had the quick death of a beheading offered to him instead of facing the torturous deaths of his non-Roman citizen brothers and sisters in Christ, but it was still death nonetheless. The letter is thus considered by many to be a sort of "last will and testament" for the apostle that we can all learn from.

How could these words help us? Knowing that his executioners will come for him at any time, Paul writes from the perspective of one who knows that death is imminent and wants to use his remaining time in ways that are consistent with how he has lived his life since meeting the risen Christ on the road to Damascus many years ago. "I am already being poured out as a libation, and the time of my departure has come," writes the old apostle. It is a sobering metaphor taken from the ancient practice of pouring out drink offerings at an altar to the divine --- a life poured out in sacrifice to the God to whom Paul had given his early allegiance as a Pharisee and then to that same God revealed in the person of Jesus Christ. Paul was about to give the last full drop in faith in grace for the cause to which Christ had called him.

So, rather than always living in the past or pining about the future, which is another sign of the misaligned life, Paul evaluates both his past and his future through the lens of his imminent death. And what thread does Paul see as he sees death? The common thread of his past, present and future is simply faithfulness. Using three metaphors, Paul describes this thread of faithfulness using the image of sports that were common in first-century Rome.

"I have fought the good fight." "I have finished the race." "I have kept the faith." Paul envisions his life as one momentarily in route to cross a great finish line. His death will not define his life in faith. Rather, his faithful wrestling with the truth of the risen Christ first led him to tumble off his horse on the way to persecute Christians in Damascus … but then helped him stand back up. His faithfulness enabled him to grapple with what words to use to those who wondered about this conversion from murderer to Christian. Later this faithfulness provided courage in challenging times. Paul recognizes that he "fought the good fight" on behalf of the One who had first knocked him down and lifted him up and set him off on the journey of faith.

And as he sat thinking in prison on what to write to Timothy with death pending, he is encouraging this younger person that his faithful life experience filled with stumbling and deadly moments not only is he about "finishing the race" but on "keeping the faith." Looking back on his life, rather than changing things up constantly by making momentary resolution after momentary life goal depending on life circumstances, Paul in contemplating his impending death is able to say that the determination to proclaim the good news about Jesus Christ is one task that defined his life.

When we think about the "Last Year" test, we might be tempted to think that our lives are really the sum total of what we've accomplished as time ticks away. We might assume that what we have accumulated in material possessions, relationships or life experiences is what really matters; that if we did not complete out bucket lists somehow our lives are failures. Paul reminds us that the only real answer in death is faithfulness. Paul recaps that the only real encouragement to continue comes from faithful wrestling day in and day out. There are many distractions that can pull us away, and Paul takes a moment later to mention those who struggled with this path; Demas and Alexander the coppersmith.

Near the end, Paul understood that the only prize, the only goal in life that really matters, is this "crown of righteousness" that awaits all of us by grace through faith. Such a crown is not something we achieve by effort in this life race, since no matter how we are able to jump the hurdles, even our best efforts and accomplishments pale in comparison to God's goodness. No, it is not a crown that is achieved or warranted; it is not attained by hours at our local charity, or answering correctly the last test, instead, it is given to us as a gift.

A life of faithfulness to Christ is a response to that promised crown. When we focus on Christs own death and resurrection, we come to realize that our own death itself will ultimately be defeated, a message we are to share with others.

I suspect that Paul, like many of us, could have shared his regrets on how he had spent all his time, perhaps wondering why he took off for years in Arabia (Gal. 1: 17) or why God placed Lydia, the wealthy widow to be the first person to be baptized in the west. But when it finally came down to it, Paul's gift to Timothy and to us at this this moment of reflection, knowing what was ahead of him, is his focus on influencing those around him to live their lives trusting in God's promise. He invested his remaining time in people like Timothy, who would carry on the proclamation of Jesus Christ.

Immediately after our reading, it's both heartening and heartbreaking to read Paul's desperate request for Timothy "to 'do your best to come to me soon.'" Words I have heard on occasion in hospitals, bedrooms and nursing homes as we waited anxiously for one last loved ones to reappear. Did Timothy make it time, or was he too late? What ever happened, Paul wanted to make sure that his last moments were spent faithfully investing in the future, that the cause of Christ would continue to advance even after he was gone.

Where does this leave you and me? I hope you got more out of this sermon than how much time to spend watching TV or video games? That is for you to measure. In its place, in recalling Paul's words, we have a gentle reminder to recalibrate, reorganize and reallocate our time and resources in a way that aligns with our faithfulness in Jesus Christ. We are about mission, the faithful proclamation of Jesus Christ.

We may be around to welcome 2017 with a click of champagne, a new resolution and a kiss of our loved ones, but in faithfulness our strength is found at the table with bread and wine, in scripture and together in worship. And if we are still struggling with courage in this cauldron of division, homophobia, misogyny, racism and fear, then perhaps we may need to go back for a moment to as Paul suggests, to a coffee table book of dead people, have trust in the crown of righteousness that we have received and in faith as we run the race of life. Amen.

A widow God – 10/16/2016

A sermon based on Luke 18: 1-8. This is what I am not going to say: "Pray always and do not lose heart." And I am not going to tell several stories of people who persistently prayed to God and received cures, money in the mail and better relationships. And I am not going to finish off by telling you; "The judge finally answered the widow's prayer because she tired him out." So, "Pray always and do not lose heart." Amen.

Why am I not going to do that? I am not going to do that because we need to beware of any storyteller who tells you the ending first, even if it is the author of the Gospel of Luke. And second we need to be careful of our bias, what social scientists call our paradigm, the way we each view the world.

Let me begin with the first. Personally, I have never been one to peek at the last pages of a book, although that last Harry Potter book in 2007 was a little bit of a temptation. So my reaction to someone who shares the ending starts something like, "OK then! We know the ending, so why go any further?"

Rather, I believe the process of discovery is vital, as Socrates famously said and I am going to add: "An unexamined Christian life is not worth living." So I have a prole at any editor who tells me what a parable may mean. Rather, in examining our faithful lives, all of us need to remember what parables are not: parables are not analogies. There is never an easy relationship between the characters in a parable and those in "real life." For example, we might be tempted to say that the prodigal son who takes his inheritance and returns after losing it all "represents" us, and the forgiving father "represents" God. In actuality the parable resists any such easy answer; parables are more multilayered than that. Instead the parables in the Gospels are stories that allude to other realities, and do so in an imaginative way that leads to illumination, enlightenment … but also to more questions, and sometimes, confusion. That is why parables are timeless and challenge all believers as they push us to a deeper level.

With that introduction, let us begin. The parable of the widow and the judge is found only in the Gospel of Luke and is the only parable that begins with an editorial comment. But what is also odd is its location. It is preceded by Jesus' teaching on the coming kingdom and followed by another reference to the coming of the Son of Man. We also know that Jesus is speaking to the disciples, throughout this section, although the Pharisees are still within earshot.

Let us now review the basics. The first part of the parable tells of a judge in a certain city that did not fear God or have respect for people. The judge not only felt nothing for people, but also had no sense of "shame" in how he treated them --- by the way that was a typical Roman judge from that time period. Roman judges had vast power within their jurisdiction.  If they wanted to, they could decide cases based on personal whim alone.  The judge in this story is just such a judge. So an image of an uncaring judge would not have been out of the people's experience.

We are then told by Jesus in the parable that there was a widow in that city, and she was coming to the judge, saying something to the effect of "Grant me justice from my opponent," and the judge was not willing for a time to address her plea. But let us be careful, we may assume that the widow was in the right and the judge was unjust because he refused to rule in her favor.  But the parable never actually says if the widow's case was right. The woman does appear by herself in court which means that she has no male relative to speak for her, but nowhere does Jesus state that the widow's suit was right or just.

The other aspect of this parable that is not said --- but the disciples would have known --- is that the Old Testament is chockfull with injunctions to consider the needs of widows, orphans, aliens, and strangers. And we should also note that widow still believes in the system!

The stage of the parable is set by the contrast between, on the one hand, a powerful magistrate who can do whatever he feels like doing, and, on the other, a widow who fighting for her case.

What was the judge's response in the parable? For a while the judge has no time for the widow. But then there is a change --- the judge changes his mind. Interestingly enough, the parable has us overhear his internal conversation, where the judge openly acknowledges what had originally been said about him, i.e., that he doesn't fear God or respect people. This tells us that he has had no internal change, no conversion experience. The judge remains the same person as he was when first identified. 

Rather, all that changes are his approach regarding the widow: "Though I am not fearing God nor respecting human beings, yet because this widow gives me trouble, I will avenge her, so that she might not come (and) give me a black eye unto the end." The bible translation we use has "wear me out." But I like the translation of "black eye" because the Biblical Greek word comes from the world of boxing and refers to striking someone under the eye. "Give me a black eye" is not only faithful, but paints a rather startling and humorous picture of a widow battering a powerful judge.

What's more, she will "give me a black eye unto the end." The word used for end, is a special word in the New Testament.  It means the goal, the consummation, the gathering of all into all.  It seems to say that if the widow keeps battering him and her desire for justice just may make the judge look bad through all eternity. To avoid this fate, the judge rules in the widow's favor.

Jesus then adds in the parable the final portion, "Will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will God delay long in helping them. I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when of the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?"

Let us now consider what this parable for ourselves. I have three possible suggestions.

The easiest road we can take from this parable is that God is a good judge. The point is not that God is like an unjust judge who will, eventually relent to the persistent petitions of the widow. Rather, the force of the parable mirrors that of earlier instructions from Jesus about prayer. Do you remember where Jesus said, "If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!" We can read today's parable the same way: "If even the most unjust of judges will finally relent to the ceaseless petitions of a defenseless widow, then how much more will God -- who is, after all, a good judge -- answer your prayers!"

The focus then with this interpretation is on God's goodness and eagerness to bless. This parable could be a reminder to those of us who are reluctant or given up to address God with our petitions this interpretation is an invitation and encouragement to pray, confident of God's desire to respond.

A second path we could take from the parable would be to put our focus on the unjust judge as a major character. This of it this way, "While I know that God may seem like an unjust judge, but God's actions are just and God will deliver justice in God's due time." This is more in line with the beginning editorial comment. What that means for us is we can continue to pray without ceasing and not lose heart, because ultimately we can be confident that God's justice will in time prevail even though injustice is all around us.

In this interpretation, vindication will be soon --- but not, however, by making the widow for example, come out a winner through the judicial process.  Quite the contrary. In the approaching death and resurrection of Jesus, all true justice, will come. Remember, this parable was set in the context where Jesus had just told the disciples about that fact that they must endure much suffering and be rejected."

Is that only two interpretations? Because there is at least one more path we can take. Who is the other character in this parable besides the judge? A third revealing route shifts our attention from the judge to the widow. And perhaps this is where our paradigms interfere with hearing this parable. This must be a poor, helpless widow! Poor her! Therefore, we may read assuming the widow is elderly and poor, since other widows mentioned in the Gospel fit these characteristics.

The parable, however, does not demand interpreting the widow this way and we would be wise to remember that widows can be a variety of ages, classes, and backgrounds. And I don't know about you but not all the widows I have met are not meek sheep. Instead, I have met a lot of people who are more like the judge. Nonetheless, our bias may be influencing why we don't usually think of God as a widow.

So with that in mind, the third route could be that humanity is the unjust judge and God is the widow. What if God keeps coming to humanity begging humanity to love, hope and join as co-creators in sacred justice with God, but humanity doesn't give God and justice the time of day. If that is the case, we can understand then that this parable told to the disciples before his impending death as a tool to later reignite God's children to carry out his Kingdom for justice as co-creators.

What if God is coming to us, persistent and begging for humanity to pay attention to God's justice? Then this parable is not so much about our persistence but more about God's. In this interpretation, we would not have to worry about pestering God to "get what we want." Instead, based on the fact that we are loved, forgiven, and because of Christ's death, we are called to live out the kingdom and do justice.

So which is it, perhaps you have another interpretation? At this point in my faith life, I have discovered that it is far more consoling to have a God who feels the pain with me and who longs for the kingdom than to have a God who fixes everything at my beck and call. For example, I recently saw the recently revived MacGyver TV show with new characters based on the series from the late1980's. It is as cheesy as before, with the main character caught in unbelievable life threating dangers, but in a matter of minutes is able to save himself and others by using an assortment of stuff lying around. But I wonder if in our bias, we do not read this parable this way as a Mc - Fixit God judge. Rather, the more I read the Bible and journey in faith, the more I realize that for Jesus, faith doesn't fix things as much as it gives the capacity, courage and hope to bear the unbearable, present in our daily struggles.

We may think the word "critical" has only a negative meaning, as in "the Professor criticized my paper unfairly." However, a critical Bible reader is a careful reader. Critical Bible reading means being able to delve deeper in faith about what we read. So with all due respect to the author of Luke, we need to be careful with any editorial suggestion on the meaning of a parable from Jesus. Because, in this parable God it may be less about prayer and more about eagerly desiring for us, to be as persistent as a widow seeking justice. Amen.

 

 

To do a Corrigan – 10/9/2016

Sermon based on Luke 17: 11-19. What do you think? Do you think that one of the ten in our gospel did a Corrigan? Because after Jesus told the 10 lepers "to go see the Priests," it seems that at least one of them went the wrong way. Did this one leper intentionally go that way or was there another reason?

Well, by the look on some of your faces, I can tell you don't know what I am talking about. First, what is a Corrigan?

Douglas Corrigan was an American aviator born in Galveston, Texas. He was nicknamed "wrong way" because of a famous incident in 1938. It seems that on a planned transcontinental flight Corrigan filed a flight plan and told everyone he was flying to Long Beach, California. Instead he flew from Floyd Bennett Field in Brooklyn, New York to --- Ireland. He claimed his unauthorized flight was due to a navigational error because of the weather. How did he think he was flying over the Great Lakes the whole time?

Besides those questions people were surprised at this error because Corrigan besides being an excellent pilot was a skilled aircraft mechanic --- he was one of the builders of Charles Lindbergh's Spirit of St. Louis. But Corrigan never publicly admitted to having flown to Ireland intentionally. Corrigan's "error" made him famous during the Depression, and led to the expression to "do a Corrigan" or to intentionally go the wrong way.

But back to my question, did one of the ten in our gospel do a Corrigan; intentionally go the wrong way?

Again, I can tell you are still wondering what I am talking about.

Well, let's explore the Gospel. In the middle of Jesus "on the way to Jerusalem," a meandering journey from Galilee to that city of Jerusalem where he will die on the cross, we are told by Luke that Jesus entered a certain un-named village, where ten men with skins conditions somehow recognize Jesus from a distance. How they recognize Jesus from a distance we are not told. Nonetheless, together they lift up their voices, crying, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!" Jesus hears and responds and says to them, "Go, show yourselves to the priests."

(These men as I said, had a tzaraath, a Hebrew word which refers to any number of skin conditions --- everything from a bad case of acne to psoriasis to the much more severe Hansen's disease normally called leprosy. Whatever exact skin condition they had, these ten are "unclean" in that society and they had to live by themselves, separate from their communities.)

Jesus in response to their request for healing is sending them "to the priests" in Jerusalem who could certify whether or not a person was clean. If healed they could then be re-integrated into common everyday life. What they imagined would happen as they turned to go to Jerusalem is not recorded. But this is what interests me because at least one of the ten is really going the wrong way … maybe. But we don't get that surprise until the end so let me keep going.

So, what happens as these 10 are going to the priests in Jerusalem? As they are going, they are healed --- they are "cleansed." I can just imagine their joy. But we don't hear any more about the nine, instead, we hear that one of the now-cleansed lepers "saw" that he has been healed. Seeing he had been cleansed, this former man with a skin condition now goes the other direction back to Jesus. He praises God in a loud voice, falls with his face at the feet of Jesus, and gives thanks. But the kicker is this one who returned was what --- a Samaritan!

Because if you may have forgotten, Samaritans where not liked in Jewish society. Just to review, according to the Old Testament Biblical timeline, after the reign of Kings David and Solomon, the nation of Israel was split in two, with tribes dividing into a northern kingdom, which kept the name Israel, and tribes in a southern kingdom, which was called Judea. In the southern kingdom of Judea, the temple was in Jerusalem, as was the throne of the line of David. The northern kingdom, though, set up a rival temple, with a rival capital and a rival royal dynasty in the city of Samaria.

Then in the year 722 B.C. the Assyrian army swooped down on Samaria and defeated this northern kingdom of Israel. The northern tribes were dispersed and scattered. The Assyrians brought in other peoples to settle there, thus diluting the national and ethnic identity of the people who remained. Judea remained but that is another story. Nonetheless this history even hundreds of years later resulted in animosity between the true-blue from Judah over the Samaritans who were looked down upon as half-breeds, both ethnically and religiously.

Which all leads us back to my original question, because in our gospel, we hear this Samaritan, not only is he with a group of Jews (misery loves company) but heading to "Jerusalem" of all places to visit Jewish priests who wouldn't see him anyway! What was this man thinking? He must have already felt out of place walking with 9 Jewish lepers, but then go to Jerusalem to show himself to priests who wouldn't give him the time of day at a temple where he was not invited.

So do you understand my confusion? Is the Samaritan intentionally going the wrong way when he is going to Jerusalem with the others? Does it have only to do with what Jesus had commanded?

For me, I like this mystery, because it challenges us 21 centuries later not only to unpack all that is happening in this lesson but challenges our directions.

What do I mean by that? For example, we can easily be one of the nine. We are healed by Christ's death on the cross. And just like the nine, if you can imagine --- no further need to be relegated to the outside as we are part of the kingdom of God.  There is nothing keeping us from taking up our lives again, other than the obligatory visit to the pastor on a Sunday. Then, we get to return home! We are healed! We get to return to our lives, homes, friends and families.

In other words, the nine began with humility, openly acknowledging that they needed to be healed, as we are, each and every day, by God's grace. All of us are loved, embraced and healed through Christ and sent on our way.

And off we go, in our desire to return to our communities. And isn't that what we are supposed to do? But, in our hurry and joy we lose sight of the one who sent us on our way. In our deep desire for life and family and the world to be normal, we quickly forget. We easily can be one of the nine.

But we can also be the Samaritan, outside of the circles of acceptability, because of who we were born to be --- someone considered not fully, other, and therefore ineligible to be at the same table with the rest of society. The Samaritan religious practices set him apart. His race sets him apart. He is a foreigner --- from just across the border.

Perhaps we may have felt the same for whatever reason. Maybe we can remember what it was like to discover that we did not have the same access to a rightful place at the table.  Maybe it is because of our gender.  Maybe is because of life experiences like addiction, mental illness or the loss of a job or bankruptcy. Perhaps it is about race, or status or sexual orientation or gender identity. In some sense, this would be a walk not unlike this Samaritan's, kind of going along in a direction, with the crowd, included but not.

So, I think all of us can find ourselves somewhere in this story; perhaps one of the nine, perhaps as the Samaritan, or perhaps a mix of the both.

But that is what makes this event helpful. There is someone who realized something and went back to Jesus. This one, and it happened to be the Samaritan (!), he alone gave the sacrifice of praise by taking the time to return to thank the one who changed his life. It is to him alone that Jesus said, "Your faith has made you well."

This one person recognized that Jesus was more than healing alone, more than just a miracle worker or a good teacher to get us to a new normal. Rather, this person turned a corner from seeing what God is doing through Jesus … to what God can do through Jesus. He took an intentional direction the other way to give thanks and begin a new life in faith.

One person saw that in the direction he was going, healed, on his way, that it wasn't enough to return to a normal, to go along with the crowd, but to turn around and give thanks not only for what Jesus did, but what Jesus can do. That is faith, as the author of Hebrews reminds us: "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." Faith is an intentional direction taking. Faith is a Corrigan against the norm.

Because of Christ, regardless of who we are, whether a Samaritan or like the nine, in Christ a new Kingdom has broken in and by grace we all have been healed. And as wonderful as that is, today's gospel may be challenging us, that now that we are healed, what will our directions? How intentional are we about going the way of Christ, to love God and our neighbor when it can seem to be the wrong way with the crowd and society? Maybe the question we should be asking is: what is our willingness to do a Corrigan in our daily life, to intentionally work and live in the direction of God's kingdom: to forgive 7 X 70, to turn the other check, to take the coat off our backs, to take up our cross and follow. Each day we are healed in Christ, let us follow our faithful directions beginning in Christ. Amen.

Supersize – 10/2/2016

Sermon based on Luke 17: 5-10. Should or should I not ask for the larger size? After I had placed my order at the take out window of a fast food restaurant this past week, I was asked that simple, but profound question, "Do you want large fries and a large drink for only I think she said --- 50 cents more?" After a moment or two, I politely declined because the normal size meal was large enough. But as I sat there waiting for my meal, I was reminded of two things. One is that controversial 2004 documentary called, "Super-Size Me."

The premise of the movie by filmmaker Morgan Spurlock was what would happen if you ate nothing but fast food for an entire month? So he embarked on a 30-day strict fast food diet during which he only ate or drank from what was provided on one particular fast food chains menu; for 30 days he ate three meals a day only at that fast food chain, consumed everything on the menu at least once and supersized his meal if asked.

On the quest to find out the physical and mental effects of consuming fast food, Spurlock also traveled across the USA talking to food experts and everyday fast food fans on a quest to find out if there is a relationship between one of our nation's biggest health problems --- obesity --- and whether there is a relationship to fast food. What happened? Well his experiment began as a 6 foot 2 inches' tall male with a body weight of 185 lbs. and ended after 30 days 25 lbs. heavier and struggling with bouts of depression and headaches.

But that subjective movie aside, there is a different reason, I thought about that question at that take out window, and that is because of our gospel; Why do the disciples demand of Jesus an increase in their faith? Why did their faith need to be supersized?

The story from Luke picks up at the point where the disciples make that kind of request. They want Jesus to increase their faith. Now why would the disciples want more faith? After all they were the inner circle, the faithful of the faithful they had seen miracles, seen the power of this person, and believed Jesus to be the Messiah. Surely they already have great faith. They were in the presence of the Son of God what more do they need? Why supersize?

To fully appreciate their request, we need to back up to the beginning of chapter 17 and earlier to hear what Jesus has just requested of them. He talks to them about living together as a community of faith, representatives of the Kingdom of God. Jesus predicts that in the future two particular kinds of difficulties will arise. Difficulties grow out of the fact that not everyone is at the same place in life and in their faith journeys; there are always "little ones." And there are at least two sets of "little ones." Considering that Jesus has just told in the Gospel of Luke a story exalting the poor, crippled, blind, and lame (14:12-14), three stories about the lost being found (15:1-32), and two parables about the use and miss-use of wealth (16:1-31), one might fairly conclude that "little ones" are the destitute poor, and the hopelessly lost, as well as the second group of those new in faith.

What could Jesus mean? Well, common sense would dictate that one would not want to give someone who needed a meal or a child recently baptized an assignment to read the Book of Concord, the historic doctrinal standard of the Lutheran Church, consisting of ten different documents recognized as authoritative in the Lutheran church since the 16th century. Perhaps they may need those words for study and reflection later.

Those in a different place in life and their faith journey, more developed shall we say, may even cause someone new or even without faith to stumble and fall. So Jesus gives these disciples instructions to warn them against causing anyone to trip up. The disciples are to be responsibly considerate and sensitive to each another and all people seven times seven, which mean "completely," each and every day. 

In other words, with all that Jesus had taught the religious leaders at that time, "moral rightness" is rejected once again as a measure for one's place in the Kingdom of God. Obviously, Jesus knows that the disciples may intentionally or unintentionally violate, hurt, pain one another, yet that same sense of responsible love Jesus spoke of earlier prevails here. The shape of this love means we can believe we are "right" all day long, and the other person can be "wrong" all day long, but that is not a standard by which a person's place in the world is measured. "Good" and "bad," "right" and "wrong" are not defining categories in the Kingdom of God. That is the one aspect of the scandal of our faith.

I suspect, as you may also, that these instructions on life in this Kingdom of God are not music to the disciple's ears. These were and are tough assignments. I can just see the disciples hearing these words and looking at each other, wondering how in the world they can follow or even understand it all. Then it hits them what they need is more faith. Lord, increase our faith! Super-size it!

Now that shouldn't be a surprise either because who of us do not find ourselves saying "Give me just a little more faith, the 32 oz. mega gulp is not necessary, but one size larger would be helpful? Lord, I could handle this situation if my faith was stronger. Like the disciples, we face tough times or questions or people for which we don't have easy answers or what we have learned to this point in our faith journeys leaves us un-prepared. And when we turn to our faith for strength, sometimes we sense that we are just a little short and that somehow we ought to have more faith, or perhaps less doubt.

So the disciples turn to the one who they believe can cook up just a little more faith. How does Jesus respond? He famously says, "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."

Now just a quick aside here about the word "If." In Biblical Greek "if" is used in two different ways. The first way is as an expression of contradiction. "If I were you, if you decide to do something." The second use of "If" expressed a condition of fact. If Jesus is our Lord. That's how it is used here in verse 6. So, when Jesus says, "If you had faith," Jesus is not saying, too bad - so sad --- an expression of mock empathy. Rather it is more like "If you had faith and I know you do…"

Jesus' statement is not a scolding of an absence of faith, but an affirmation of the faith they already have, and an invitation to live out the full possibilities of that faith. It's like a child who comes the day after Christmas, after the mad rush of opening presents, and says "I have nothing to do." Just look under the tree! The presents have already been given, use them!

Jesus is reminding the disciples to fully live in the faith they have and to cancel out words such as "impossible and absurd" so that even the act of uprooting a tree by voice command is possible. The faith the disciples have is a faith that lays hold of God, with whom nothing is impossible.

So to repeat, Jesus did not respond by telling the disciples they had to have more faith or that they were not all ready, ready. Nor that the disciples had to go back to faith school or needed to grow up first. Jesus was saying to them, the faith of which they were already utilizing, is sufficient for where they were. Super-sizing at the divine drive up window was not necessary as they already had received the full meal deal.

This all suggests that when it comes to faith, one size fits all, but not in the sense of quantity, rather as a gift specific to each person. That means of the disciples' faith, it fit Matthew, who was not the same as Peter, who was not the same as James or John or Mary Magdalene or even Judas. Pretty amazing isn't it? Jesus is teaching these disciples nearly 21 centuries ago, that Thomas for example, has faith, and that not only is it sufficient but is remarkable; interesting to think about if we take time to consider Thomas in other places in the Bible, particularly after the resurrection.

Well what can this mean for us? As I considered the words of Jesus as I ate my fast food lunch, I struggled with my own cry of the disciples: "Increase my faith."  Yet, today is a reminder, that we don't need "more."  In fact, if anything, we need "less." We need less striving to get "better" and less addiction to the moral categories and solutions of this world. 

Through the death and resurrection of the Lord, all human striving is cancelled out.  We experience this as a "scandal" for we believe in striving, after all.  We believe in trying to become bigger, better, and stronger.  We do not understand power made manifest in the weakness of the cross, and we don't particularly like it either.

This is why Jesus does not increase faith on demand.  In fact, faith counts for less than the disciples and we may think. Rather, the "answer" is not an "increase" in anything --- not even faith; as Robert Capon puts it in response to this reading, "When it comes to faith, they don't have to be winners."  We need to remind ourselves particularly in this nation and in this political climate, the good news of Jesus Christ is not at all connected with moral or spiritual success.

We do not have a faith meter in our chests, that lays out our progress toward salvation and consists of cranking it up over a lifetime from cold too lukewarm to toasty to red hot.  We cannot and are not saved by our faith, any more than by our good we do or our spirituality.  All of those recipes for self-improvement amount to nothing. We are saved by the gift of God's grace or a Jesus put it: "Why thank the slave for doing was commanded?"

The disciples are called to go about doing what Jesus had taught them to do --- no more, no less --- and even if his followers screw it up, which undoubtedly happened and happens, Jesus will keep accepting and accepting and accepting ---totally and completely, every single day --- just as God accepts all the "little ones." That is all that is sufficient, all that is necessary, we have received adequate "nutritional" faith, no supersizing necessary. Amen.