Luke 17.5-10
If you were granted three wishes, what would you ask for? The classic restrictions are that you can’t wish for more wishes, and you can’t wish for immortality. But those ideas aside, what would your heart’s desire be? I’ve often wished I could draw - an attempt at any sort of animal results in a generic blob with four legs. You probably don’t want me on your team to play Pictionary! Perhaps you also have an unfulfilled ambition. Maybe you’d wish for an easy and beautiful life, to be smarter, better at something, or to have different colour eyes or hair.
How often do we wish that we were somehow changed?
The disciples in today’s gospel reading are longing to be changed, to find it a bit easier to follow Jesus. ‘Increase our faith!’ they plead. They’ve heard Jesus talk about how hard it is to be a disciple, all the costs of being a Jesus-follower, including carrying the cross, placing all family ties as secondary, and giving up all possessions. It sounds near impossible, and so they understandably ask for more faith. They know they need help, and they don’t think they’re good enough as it is.
I wonder if this rings true for you in some way? How often we wish that circumstances were different, that we didn’t face a particular difficulty, or that we were more like someone else. Or how often do you wish that you had more faith, that this whole being a Christian thing was just easier?
As many of you know by now, my favourite book is The Lord of the Rings. There is a moment near the beginning, when the wizard Gandalf has just explained to Frodo that the Ring of Power must be destroyed, and Frodo says to Gandalf, ‘I wish it need not have happened in my time’. And Gandalf replies, ‘so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.'
It’s such a beautiful quote, and I think it also says something about our recurring wish, as humans, that things were different. That our circumstances, or even our very selves, were something other than they are. But in the face of our wishes, Gandalf offers this kind wisdom: ‘All we have to decide is what to do with what is given us’. And I think we can translate this into faith as well.
We all have different ways we can live faithful lives. We embody our faith with our own personalities and gifts, strengths and preferences. The outworking of your faith might look different to your friend’s. And since we live in a world which constantly compares us to each other in every way, it’s tempting to do the same with our spiritual lives. But all we have to decide is what to do with our own faith, and the personhood, gifts and passions God has given us.
An interesting question to ask ourselves is ‘why?’. Why do we so often wish we were different? If we’re honest, I think the image of the person we would like to be is a perfect person. We wish we were unachievably faultless. We wish we had no vulnerability, no weaknesses, no shortcomings or flaws. We want to be self-sufficient. But here’s the thing - Christianity is all about our not being perfect. Our faith is one that requires us to embrace the reality of our flawed selves, and to settle into the truth that God loves us anyway. Our faith teaches us that we will always be a bit messy, but that God’s grace and love makes us perfect in God’s eyes anyway.
I wonder what sort of image the disciples had in their heads of what they’d be like when they finally had ‘enough’ faith. Perhaps they didn’t have a clear idea, just a nebulous desire to find it easier to follow Jesus. Perhaps they thought that if they had ‘enough’ faith they’d be transformed into people who understood everything Jesus said, who found it easy and natural to do everything he taught, to have the same spirit of love and generosity that Jesus modelled. Maybe they hoped that with more faith, they would be less like their complicated, confused, struggling selves, and m
ore like a perfect shiny dream person who got everything right.
But Jesus’ response to their request shows us that it isn’t about having more and more faith, but that even the smallest amount is enough for God to be at work within us. Even a faith that feels small as a mustard seed is enough for God to do wondrous things, and enough for us to be faithful disciples. It’s easy to question ourselves, to question the legitimacy of our faith when it does not feel extraordinary, yet being a follower of Jesus also requires ordinary, daily practices of faithfulness and service.
Some of you might have heard of Brother Lawrence, a Carmelite monk living in the 1600s, who wrote the little book ‘The Practice of the Presence of God’. In this book he describes how he worked at cultivating a habit of doing all things for the glory and love of God, even something as mundane as sweeping the floor or washing the dishes. Despite his life being quite humble, and his daily tasks being things we would think of as small chores, by approaching these ordinary tasks as opportunities to live out his faith, he discovered the extraordinary depth of God’s love for him and those around him. I love this perspective on faith, holding onto a conscious awareness of God's presence at all times. This one simple act brings everything we do an intentionality, it lends a holiness to even the simplest of tasks.
It's a perfect example I think of faith that may seem even small as a mustard seed, yet is powerful enough to transform everything. If we c
ombine the wisdoms of Gandalf and Brother Lawrence
, and decide to use all that is given to us in the context of an awareness of the presence of God, our lives will be infused with holiness.
For what is the point of our lives? It isn’t to be good at things, to be successful, to be well known or talented or networked or educated. It isn't to be perfect or self sufficient. But instead, our purpose is to give thanks and praise to God in all things. All that we do, every focus of our mind, should lead back to that wellspring of delighting in God’s love. We are unquestioningly embraced, and our faith in that love, however great or small it may feel, is enough to produce an overflowing river of praise within us, if we let it.
So what are you deciding to do with the grace that has been given to you? Are your actions and thoughts shaped by offering grace and forgiveness to others? Shaped by the knowledge that even in your own imperfection, you are embraced by God, as we all are? Shaped by the desire to tell your friends this remarkable fact, to invite them to church, to invite them to find this divine presence for themselves? Shaped by the desire to offer all that you have and are and will be to God in thanksgiving?
So the next time you find yourself wishing, I invite you to call to mind my favourite wizard, and the inspiring humility of a God-oriented monk. Take what has been given you, this precious holy spark that dwells within you, and decide how you can consciously enfold it into all that you are, for the glory and praise of God.
Amen.
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