The Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost -- 6 October 2013

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.

• There's a problem with today's reading: it is taken out of context. It is comparable to walking by someone's house and hearing horrible yelling and shrieking from inside. We might knock on the door and ask what is wrong. We might call the police and let them handle it. Or we might keep on walking and try to forget what we'd heard, hoping not to read anything about about it in the next issue of the Express. The trouble is we don't know what went before. Was it an argument? A fight with an intruder? A mental health problem? Or was it a private rehearsal for the latest play?
• The Lectionary -the book of assigned readings- takes Luke's Gospel and offers these two statements by Jesus, about the “size” of faith and about being “worthless slaves” without any hint of what went before. In the previous verses, Jesus counsels the disciples to forgive when they are asked, even if the asking comes multiple times. Did the disciples mutter among themselves and say something like “Easy for you to say! You've got faith to give away! We need more than we've got now.”
• Jesus' response to his disciples (who are oddly referred to as “the apostles”) is what we are given today.
• Even without wondering about the editing of the passages, we are left with two sayings.
• In the first, Jesus says faith “... the size of a mustard seed” could make amazing things happen. Why someone would want to transplant a mulberry tree in the sea is not the question. That could be exaggeration, like “I'm so hungry I could eat a horse.” It's done to make a point about the nature of faith and trust rather than to reflect a reality of the Kingdom of God. Would any of us hold that the Kingdom of God is upheld by mulberry trees in the Mediterranean?
• The second saying seems to have to do with how a person might treat their slaves – something none of us here have any experience of. Since this was spoken to the disciples, it applies to them in some way. Was Jesus warning them about expecting praise and adulation from the world or other disciples for doing what was expected of them? Or was he cautioning them not to think more of themselves for being disciples and doing what disciples do? It would be hard for us to say and it is still for us to hear.
• Still, there is a common human tendency to focus on ourselves. We all like to be the hero and have parades in our honour. We crave approval to some extent or other. Even in our spiritual life, we want to be recognized and seen as “spiritual” and godly. To be told that in our discipleship, we might not expect to be praised for our discipleship and every little prayer, work, or expression of faith, could be quite a come-down.
• Think of it this way; most of our lives are quite ordinary. It is just in this “ordinary discipleship” that we find our lives with Jesus. It is this “ordinary discipleship” that is expected of us. Such “ordinary discipleship” may mean surrender to the often-unknown will of God and the search for the presence of God in the everyday.
• In asking “Increase our faith”, some might desire a faith that brings a certain kind of certainty, perhaps even superiority. For them, whether they know it or not, faith becomes an accomplish-ment, a “work” to use the well-known Lutheran term. Others might seek a faith that involves mystical experiences, a faith that works like a drug and helps them get through life's ordinary challenges. Still others may aspire to faith that serves as an antidote to struggle. Looking at it in this way as some preachers might tell us, enough faith can conquer doubt, illness, even economic hardship.
• So then, mustard seed faith and what we might call “modest discipleship” may be just what we need. By God's grace, discipleship requires neither unshakable confidence or spectacular accomplishments. Luke's Jesus does indeed make extraordinary demands of his disciples, demands that seem unfair and far beyond our abilities.
• Yet sometimes discipleship requires ordinary and daily practices of fidelity and service. No fire-works, no parades, no circus, just solid discipline and consistency for the long run. Sometimes discipleship will seem boring, but this is how we live our lives each day. And we will find God with us in doing what we do. Faith is made for us and for our everyday lives. Come what may, it will just be enough to be a servant of the Most High God and to have the amount of faith needed to see us to the next morning, whether or not we see miracles, whether or not we have no doubts, and whether or not trees are transplanted into the sea.
  
  
  (At this point my prepared sermon ended and I went on to tell a story.)
  
  
  Yesterday, I had the privledge of taking part in the reenactment of the battle of the Thames out in Thamesville. It was the 200th anniversary of the battle. It was also the place where Tecumseh died and his dream of a First Nations nation, independant of Britain or the US, on North American soil, died as well. The event was remarkable in two ways. First, there was cavalry. Second was a odd moment. At the end of the battle reenactment, all the reenactors stand at "mourn arms" with muskets reversed and hands folded on the musket butt while the fife and drum corps played a lament for the fallen and then a First Nations drum group and singers sang a Native lament. While this was taking place, wave after wave of geese flew over us on their way south, drowning out the music, drumming, and singing with their honking.
  After this was all over and we returned to camp, a good friend of mine said to me "It was the spirits of those who died, saluting us for remembering them." I later said it was a graced moment. Was it a miracle? Was it a coincidence? Who can say? The difference between a miracle and a coincidence often depends on where you are standing at the moment. Grace and God's life can be found in the everyday things of life, as we do what we are called to do, without fanfare or great thanks. Grace in the ordinary is quite a worthwhile thing.