This Unmeasurable Faith

A sermon preached with the people of Church of Our Saviour Episcopal in Akron, Ohio.

This morning, the disciples are asking Jesus to “increase our faith.” They’ve just listened to a series of lessons about how hard this work of following him is.

Words about millstones around the necks of those “who cause little ones to sin,” and being “on your guard” and forgiving those who sin against you seven times a day are swirling around in their heads. And so, I imagine the disciples might just be wondering, “can I really do this?”

And so, they ask for help.

“Lord, increase our faith!” they cry.

And Jesus 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.”

Some think what Jesus is doing here is accusing his followers of having no – or almost no – faith, which is a reasonable read. Others think Jesus is correcting the notion that faith, that this life of discipleship, is something that can be measured at all.

Faith alone. Faith the size of a seed. Uproots trees. Feeds the hungry. Frees the captive. Welcomes the stranger.

There are no bells and whistles available, no add-ons, no upgrades, no medals, no “increases.” There is just faith.

Jesus continues by using the institution of slavery – very much alive in his context – to further illustrate his point, though importantly not to promote or encourage the sinful practice. Still, the words are jarring coming from his mouth.

He asks those gathered if they would expect a slaveholder to thank an enslaved person for doing exactly what is expected. “No,” we imagine the disciples might have answered, “the work is expected, and it simply is.”

Taking a step away from this painful illustration, we might simply focus on the idea that in this life of faith there is no grading system. No promotions available. No opportunity for upward mobility.

It’s an unfamiliar way of being. Where else in our lives are we not expected to seek out advancement; a degree, a salary, a title, an increase in output?

And so, I think this teaching is connected to all the “money-talk” we’ve been hearing from Jesus these last few weeks – all these warnings about storing up treasure, about avoiding wealth. This morning, Jesus is continuing to teach about a whole new worldview and a whole new coming world order. One that asks us to override some of our most embedded beliefs and instincts – including the notion that we must constantly strive for wealth, advancement, or “increase” of any kind. That there is always a ladder to climb.

 The buzzy term “discipleship crisis” makes the rounds on Episcopal social media every once in a while. The idea is that the discipleship of everyday Episcopalians is deemed not “big” enough. These writers wish that we all knew certain things, that we all read the Bible more, or read the Bible in a certain way, studied theology, spent more time praying, or prayed in a certain way. All of this, of course, supposes those who make these arguments are familiar with the interior prayer lives of other people, but I’ll go ahead and set that aside. The point is, the notion of a “discipleship crisis,” and the genuine concern that we are experiencing such a thing reminds me a bit of the cry we hear from the disciples’ this morning: “increase our faith.”

It is so natural for us to understand any vocation, any job, anything we do, in terms of measures, checked boxes, and achievement.

But, that’s the thing about this life as Christians, as Baptized people. God is always asking us to break out of our defaults and imagine something new.

 So, as you can probably tell by now, I personally, don’t believe in the so-called discipleship crisis.

 When Paul writes of “one body” and “many members,” he reminds us that this life of faith was never intended to be treated as an individual practice. It is only as a whole Body of Christ that our discipleship takes shape.

 We need people to study theology, to interpret scripture, to translate Biblical Greek and Hebrew. To teach and to preach. And, we need people to lift and set up tables, to organize fundraisers, to protest injustice, to communicate within our churches and to the community, to cook, to clean, to sing and make music, to organize in the community, to care for children, to visit those who cannot leave their homes, to visit the prisoners, to iron the linens, to hang out with the teens, to polish the silver, to print the bulletins and update the websites, to connect with aid and services, to paint, sew and create art, to govern the church, to learn and tell about our history, to greet us at the door, to create the meeting agendas, to be ready to listen anytime, to raise money and give it away, to care for the lawn, change the lightbulbs, plant the flowers, to pay the bills, set up the checking account and process the payroll, to show up in solidarity, to tell the truth and take us to task, to bring the joy of their presence to any gathering. And to pray. Out loud and silently. Together and alone. Through words and through action.  

 This, all of it and all of us together, is how our faith moves us in our shared vocation as disciples.

 And don’t think I’ve forgotten about that “millstone around your neck” business. Or that I’ve forgotten about what’s at stake here, lest this sounds a bit too saccharine. We do all this in the name of God. Discipleship will be difficult, and even dangerous.

But, each one of us wears our discipleship differently. And there is no degree or certificate or sticker or prize any one of us has that makes our discipleship “increased.” [whispers: that includes ordination].

This faith – this unmeasurable, cooperative faith – can uproot trees. It can and it has and it does feed the hungry. Free the captive. Welcome the stranger.

 So, if we do it right – if we don’t imprint the hierarchical, individualistic, unequal ways of the world around us on our lives as faithful disciples – if we really walk this unfamiliar, at times uncomfortable, way of being together that lacks measures and individual “opportunities for advancement” – I believe we may just be preparing for life in the coming Kingdom we have been promised.  

Kathleen Moore