THE BIBLE SPEAKS

A Sermon for Reformation Sunday
October 28, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry

II Timothy 3:16
All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness.(NRSV)






The following drama is a first account of the Reformation from the Bible's point of view.

The B-I-B-L-E, yes that’s the book that’s me!
So stand alone on the Word of God, the B-I-B-L-E!

Hello everyone! Since today is Reformation Sunday and a celebration is, therefore, required, Pastor Laura asked me, the Bible, to come and speak to you this morning. As you can see, I am the “Living Person Version”, the most talkative style of Bible. I want you to understand some important things about me and since I’m showing up in person, I know you’ll remember them.

You see, I play a vital role in the dramatic story of the Reformation, which began back in 1517. Martin Luther, a young priest and professor of Biblical theology at the University Wittenberg, knew me quite well. As a scholar, he’s spent a lot of time studying me. And he saw that the practices of the Church at the time, especially that of selling indulgences, were not in keeping with my teachings. Indulgences sort of worked like extra credit points in school. The Church said that if you buy them, your soul will gain the extra merit points that the saints of old had left over. The more you buy, the better off you’ll be.

Luther searched me through and through and could not find any reason to support this practice. I proclaim the good news that salvation comes, not from doing good deeds and buying indulgences to make up for your lack, but from the merit of Christ’s resurrection alone. Faith in Christ alone saves! It is a gift, pure and simple.

In the midst of the trouble that Luther caused back in the Middle Ages, he realized that the Church was able to get so off track because the lay people did not have access to the scriptures. That’s right. I was not always the lovely, leather bound book you see before you today. In those days, I was a set of scriptures that had been hand-copied from previous manuscripts. And I was only in the original languages—Hebrew for the Old Testament, also known as the Hebrew Scriptures, and Greek for the New Testament, also known as the Christian Scriptures—and the scholarly language of Latin. That was it. Do any of you speak ancient Hebrew, Greek or Latin? Well, then you would have no way to read me for yourselves and you would have to rely upon the Church’s word.

Understandably, Luther thought this was a big problem. During his time of hiding out in the Wartburg Castle, he translated me into German for the first time. Since he questioned the Church, they put a bounty on his head and Luther could have been killed if anyone had found him. So he spent his hiding time wisely by putting me into the language of the people. He believed that if they could just read me themselves, they would understand God and God’s will for humanity. And since the printing press had just been invented, he got me printed and bound up as a book for the first time. It was an exciting time for me and for God’s people! And it has been exciting ever since!

And you modern day ELCA Lutherans—you’ve got some thoughts about me. Do you want to know what they are? Well, you believe that I am the most important way in which God is revealed to you. When you read me, it’s more than just words on a page. You see, in reading me, you are able to encounter the Living God! And through my content, you are called to a Living Faith.

I’m more than just a book, I’m a whole library. In fact, my name, Bible, means books. There are so many books contained within my pages. There are 66, in fact. And they weren’t all written at once. They were written over a period of about 1,000 years.  Each of my books had a life and use of its own before it came to be part of the collection included in the Bible. These books that made the final cut are known as the "sacred canon."

As you know, I contain all kinds of stories, from the very beginning when God created the universe. In my 39 books of the Old Testament, you can read about the Jewish people’s history and their understanding of God and God’s interaction with humankind. In my 27 New Testament books, you hear about God’s self revelation in Jesus Christ.

Like other Christians, you ELCA Lutherans confidently claim that my authority rests in God.  You believe that God inspired my many writers, editors and compilers.  As they heard God speaking and discerned God’s activity in events around them, my content took shape.  Among other things, the literature they produced is rather diverse and includes history, laws, parables, letters of instruction, persuasion and encouragement, tales of heroism, love poetry and hymns of praise.  These different styles of writing all testify to faith in a God who acts by personally engaging people throughout history.

At the same time, you Lutherans recognize that human testimony and writing are related to and often limited by culture, customs and world view.  Today we know that the earth is not flat and that rabbits do not chew their cud like it says in Leviticus (11:6).  There lots of time-bound cultural understandings and practices we don’t follow any more. For example, you no longer obey my prescribed dietary laws like eliminating pork from your diet (Leviticus 11:7) because the new covenant we have with God in Jesus has replaced the old covenant God had with his people.  My writers, editors and compilers were inspired by God but they were also limited by their times and world views, just like you are today.  It is true that because of this, I contain differing and even contradictory views of God’s word, ways and will. I’m so very complicated!

Today, it is your responsibility to interpret me and use me to guide your lives. As you read me, you and your fellow believers have to sort out what is the eternal essence of what God is saying and what is time-bound and should no longer enforced, like the biblical notion of owning people as slaves or keeping women out of ordained ministry. And since you believe that God is alive and working, you may discern that even though I say one thing, God may be doing something new. Together as a church, you must use your intelligent minds and listen to the wisdom of the Holy Spirit in order to interpret me wisely. Biblical scholars spend a lot of time dissecting me and using logical theories so they can be of great help in this process. Your pastor relies quite a bit upon their findings for her sermons—that is, when she actually preaches herself instead of bringing in special guests like me.

Back to Martin Luther. He had some very insightful things to say about this matter. He said that you should all look at me through the lens of God’s most important act—that of becoming human and entering our world. Jesus was himself the Living Word of God. Luther said Jesus is to be worshiped, not me—that as important as I am, I am simply the manger in which the Christ child lays. I am the manger. That means I am the place where you can encounter the Christ who came to save you. And so you ought to look at all of my passages in light of this reality.

On several occasions, Martin Luther suggested that not all of my books have the same value for faith formation.  With every thing you read in me, you have to ask, “Is what’s written here consistent with God’s revelation in Jesus?"  It is a question that you ELCA Lutherans find best answered within the life of the Church in community because Jesus is alive and with you all as Lord of the Church.

So today, on Reformation Sunday, we celebrate me, God’s Word, our great heritage. We get excited about the fact that you all have access to me, the Living Scripture that contains the Living Word of God. You can read your own Bibles in your own native language and so you can encounter the Living God and be called to a Living Faith! You can discover God’s unconditional love for you and for all people! You can have the peace of knowing God has saved you by grace. Now you’ll never forget just how important I am!

The B-I-B-L-E, yes that’s the book that’s me!
So stand alone on the Word of God, the B-I-B-L-E!


© 2007 Laura Gentry

PRAY FOR CHANGE

A Sermon for The Twenty-First Sunday after Pentecost
October 21, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry

Luke 18:1-8
Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart. He said, “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Grant me justice against my opponent.’ For a while he refused; but later he said to himself, ‘Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.’” And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” (NRSV)

Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Before the collapse of the Soviet Union, the Russian author Alexander Solzhenitsyn spent many years in the prison camps of Siberia. Along with other prisoners, he worked in the fields day after day, in rain and sun, during summer and winter. His life appeared to be nothing more than backbreaking labor and slow starvation. The intense suffering reduced him to a state of despair.

On one particular day, the hopelessness of his situation became too much for him. He saw no reason to continue his struggle, no reason to keep on living. His life made no difference in the world. So he gave up.

Leaving his shovel on the ground, he slowly walked to a crude bench and sat down. He knew that at any moment a guard would order him to stand up, and when he failed to respond, the guard would beat him to death, probably with his own shovel. He had seen it happen to other prisoners.

As he waited, head down, he felt a presence. Slowly he looked up and saw a skinny old prisoner squat down beside him. The man said nothing. Instead, he used a stick to trace in the dirt the sign of the Cross. The man then got back up and returned to his work.

As Solzhenitsyn stared at the Cross drawn in the dirt his entire perspective changed. He knew he was only one man against the all-powerful Soviet empire. Yet he knew there was something greater than the evil he saw in the prison camp, something greater than the Soviet Union.  He knew that hope for all people was represented by that simple Cross. Through the power of the Cross, anything was possible.

Solzhenitsyn slowly rose to his feet, picked up his shovel, and went back to work. Outwardly, nothing had changed. Inside, he had received hope. [From Luke Veronis, “The Sign of the Cross”; Communion, issue 8, Pascha 1997.]

What that skinny old prisoner did for Solzhenitsyn, Jesus does for us today in telling us about the insistent widow and the unscrupulous judge. As Solzhenitsyn desperately needed a renewal of hope, so we need encouragement from time to time if we are to continue in prayer and not lose heart. The skinny old prisoner made lines in the dirt. Jesus does something different: he gives us a very important story.

There is this judge, Jesus says, who has neither decency nor conscience, a corrupt official interested only in his own advantage. A widow appears in his courtroom. She is poor and powerless, somebody not noticed by the movers and shakers in her town. She has no money to bribe this crooked judge; she cannot afford a lawyer to speak up for her. So you know what she does? She speaks up for herself! GRANT ME JUSTICE AGAINST MY OPPONENT! she shouts. When this does not bring her immediate results, she remains undaunted. She keeps returning to that courtroom, and refuses to be silent. GRANT ME JUSTICE AGAINST MY OPPONENT!

It is no surprise that the judge soon gets tired of this. In the original Greek, he compares her in-his-face attitude to getting a black eye. To spare himself further annoyance, the judge decides not simply to hear her case, but to grant her justice to spare himself annoyance. Now is this a portrait of God? That doesn’t seem to be what Jesus has in mind, though certainly that is how some people look at the practice of prayer. They hold a picture of God as an unscrupulous judge or a petty bureaucrat or an abusive parent. With such a picture before them, it’s startling that they ever pray at all.

God is not like that. Instead, the Lord is the author of all justice and compassion. It may be that we are to imitate, in our prayer, the persistence shown by the widow, but if so, it is not because God is hard-hearted and uncaring.

Let’s take another look at that judge. What do we know about him? We know that he is unscrupulous, without decency or conscience. He doesn’t respect people; there is no fear of God in him. He is a closed universe. This judge always has it figured out; he leaves no room for the possibility that God may have a more creative answer to questions his life presses upon him.

Do we know anyone who matches this description? Hmmm...how about you and me? Each of us fits that description and times, and some of us may make a career of doing so. There are those times, all too often, when each of us lives entirely unto ourselves. We refuse to allow that God may have a creative solution to problems that beset us, that God may offer us better things than we can ask for or imagine. Our decisions about life then leave no room for God, and no room for other people who have needs and wishes different from our own. The universe, as we understand it, becomes very small; we are its sole inhabitants.

If then the judge represents us, who does the loud-mouthed woman represent? Could it be that this poor and powerless woman, who demonstrates unlimited courage, is there as a reminder of God?

Certainly, this fits. God is ever attempting to break into our closed universe, to draw us into relationship, makes us recognize what our relationships with God and neighbor demand of us.

God is not the unjust judge, but the widow who wears him down. Where, then, is the unjust judge to be found? Listen carefully: that judge is inside each of us, and the purpose of our prayer is to wear him down, to wear him out, to force him to do justice. Prayer is the widow’s voice, strong and persistent, insisting that things be different.

Many people have trouble with prayer, or even give up the practice, because they think that praying is an exercise in telling God what God already knows, or persuading God to do what God wouldn’t do otherwise, or somehow changing God in one way or another. Prayer, any prayer worthy of the name, is quite the opposite. The primary effect of prayer is not on God, but on us. God’s love is already unconditional, God’s justice is already perfect, God’s compassion has always been will always be without limit.

God recognizes our needs even before we do. It’s not God who needs to change, it is up to us to get in line with God’s program, and prayer is a large part of how that comes about.

Prayer is our declaration that we don’t want to be a closed universe, dependent only on ourselves and our own solutions. Prayer is our desire to be open to God. In our prayer, the Holy Spirit speaks in the voice of the poor widow who demands justice from the unscrupulous judge. The miracle of prayer is that the judge’s resistance breaks down and for once he does what is right, and may even do so again in the future.

That loud-mouthed widow would not have succeeded had she not been persistent, confident, and unconcerned with what others thought of her. Our prayer needs to have that kind of determination, not because God is deaf but because opening our hearts to God is no easy matter.

There are many things in each of us that can keep God out. Sin is not the only obstacle. Attitudes of mind may keep the door shut and bolted. We may doubt that God hears us; we may consider ourselves unworthy; we may think God has better things to do than intervene in our lives. These attitudes can be driven out by persistent prayer, the voice of the widow who refuses to take no for an answer.

The story is told of a girl who watched a holy man praying at the riverbank. Once the man had finished his prayer, the girl approached him and asked, “Will you teach me to pray?” The holy man studied the girl’s face, and agreed to her request. He took her into the river. The holy man instructed her to lean over, so her face was close to the water. The girl did as she was told.

Then the holy man pushed her whole head under the water. Soon the girl struggled to free herself in order to breathe. Once she got her breath back, she gasped, “What did you do that for?” The holy man said, “I gave you your first lesson.” “What do you mean?” asked the astonished girl. He answered, “When you long to pray as much as you long to breathe, then I will be able to teach you how to pray.”

May each of us long to pray, and learn to pray, and to persist in our prayer—not so that we can change God, but so that God can change us, and help us enjoy that fullness of life God intends for us.

Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

© 2007 Laura Gentry

YOUR DIVINE GLANCE

A Sermon for The Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost
October 14, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry

2 Kings 5:1-3, 7-15
Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram, was a great man and in high favor with his master, because by him the Lord had given victory to Aram. The man, though a mighty warrior, suffered from leprosy. Now the Arameans on one of their raids had taken a young girl captive from the land of Israel, and she served Naaman's wife. She said to her mistress, "If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy."...
When the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, "Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me." But when Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, he sent a message to the king, "Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel." So Naaman came with his horses and chariots, and halted at the entrance of Elisha's house. Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, "Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean." But Naaman became angry and went away, saying, "I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy! Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them, and be clean?" He turned and went away in a rage. But his servants approached and said to him, "Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, 'Wash, and be clean'?" So he went down and immersed himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean. Then he returned to the man of God, he and all his company; he came and stood before him and said, "Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel…." (NRSV)

Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

In our first reading for today we hear about Naaman. He is commander of the army of Aram, which, in case you haven't brushed up on your ancient history lately, was an enemy of Israel. Naaman has probably killed many of God's promised people in his illustrious military career. For all practical purposes, he's one of the bad guys. If this story were made into a major motion picture cartoon, Naaman would probably be really scary-looking with a long chin and crooked nose, with ghostly white skin and dark, wild hair—and I’m sure his leprosy spots would look really gross.

But now this bad guy, this villain, is in trouble. We read that Naaman is "a great man and in high favor with his master," but though he is a mighty warrior, he is suffering from leprosy (I Kings 5:1). To have leprosy meant not only to be dangerously ill, but it meant that you were ostracized from all of society. If you had leprosy in biblical times, you would have to live outside the city, wear ripped clothing, wear your hear long and unkempt. And whenever you approached someone, you would have to cover your upper lip and shout, "Unclean, Unclean!" Leprosy was a social death sentence. So Naaman has all kinds of political power, yet he cannot fix his own ailment. This powerful man finds himself in a position of great need.

And then emerges a "little person" who offers a word of help: a young servant girl working for Naaman's wife. She is a Hebrew girl who had been taken from Israel during a military raid. Yet instead of being bitter to her captors, this girl willingly offers valuable information. She tells Naaman's wife that there is a prophet in Israel who can cure Naaman of his leprosy.

Now Naaman is just needy enough at this point to believe the little servant girl. So he pursues this alleged prophet of Israel. He asks his King for permission to go and be healed. What I find ironic, is that the King of Aram automatically assumes that this powerful prophet must be the King of Israel, which isn’t the case—Elisha is just an ordinary man. And he also assumes that the prophet can be bought. So he writes a letter, packs up a bunch of money and expensive garments for Naaman to use as payment for the healing and sends him on his way. Both Naaman and the King of Aram think that God is going to work on their terms, that they can continue in their arrogance and simply buy favors from God whenever they are in need—a common misconception about the way God works in the world.

But Naaman is about to have a rude awakening. When he presents the letter and the payment to the King of Israel, he finds that this man does not have the power to heal him. The King is so upset he rips his clothes and accuses Naaman of trying to pick a fight with him. Naaman is shocked and dismayed. He has come all this way, only to find there is no cure for him. It appears his only hope of wholeness is dashed.

And then, the prophet Elisha comes to the rescue. Remember Naaman is the bad guy, the enemy. But the prophet seeks to help him anyway, as a witness to God's power over all people. Elisha writes a message to the king saying, "Why have you torn your clothes? Let Naaman come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel."

Naaman's hope is restored! He goes straight-away to the prophet's home. But when he gets there, Elisha doesn't even come out to see him. He sends another "little person" to do God's mighty work—a lowly messenger. This servant brings the message to Naaman: "Go, wash in the Jordan River seven times and your flesh will be clean." This is the point at which Naaman's pride takes over. His anger erupts and he storms away, saying, "I thought that for me—an important commander—he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy!" Naaman wants an Oscar award-winning drama. He wants all the bells and whistles because he thinks he is important. And all he gets is an instruction to wash in the river. How could healing of such a terrible disease as leprosy be accomplished by such a simple act? "No, this is ridiculous!" Naaman thinks. And his pride almost has the final say. He would rather go home a leper than humble himself and obey the seemingly silly command of this so-called prophet.

And then, for the third time in this story, a "little person" plays an extremely important role. This time, it is Naaman's servant, who is bold enough to approach Naaman while he is still in a storm of rage. The little servant begs him, "Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more when all he said to you was, 'Wash and be clean'?"

In this moment, Naaman is confronted with the truth that he is blocking God's grace because of his own preconceived notions about the way God is supposed to act. He only wants healing from God in the way the he envisions it. But now God is willing to heal him through the instructions of Elisha, but Naaman’s not willing. Naaman wants to be in control. After all, he's the commanding officer with lots of money and status. But wisdom has come from the servant and Naaman realizes that he is not in control—God is. And now, the moment of truth: does Naaman want healing badly enough to submit to God?

The answer is yes. In humbleness, Naaman goes down to the Jordan and does exactly what the prophet tells him, immersing himself seven times. And as a result, his flesh is restored. Naaman, “the villain,” is transformed, he is healed and his country of Aram must concede that there is a prophet of God in Israel. For God is a God over all the nations—not just Israel, but Aram too.

Indeed, this is a complex story. Yet, what sticks out to me as I examine this narrative, is that the catalysts of this story, the people who really bring about Naaman's healing are all "insignificant people". They are the ones with no power in the eyes of the world: the captive slave girl from Israel, Elisha's messenger, and Naaman's anonymous servant. They were just doing their duty, serving God in their own little ways, and yet God powerfully uses them to bring about Naaman's healing. This story shows us how God often uses little people and little acts of service to do mighty things.

It reminds me of the Little Way of Thérèse of Lisieux, the French nun known as “the Little Flower.” Thérèse realized that her power did not come from herself, but from God alone. In one of her writings she said, "O Jesus! I feel that if You found a soul weaker and littler than mine, which is impossible, You would be pleased to grant it still greater favors...I beg You to cast Your Divine Glance upon a great number of little souls." Saint Thérèse realized that God was at work in all of the little things she did in her daily life, whether it was in treating others with unnecessary kindness, or in rendering little services without recognition—for in Christ, these are powerful works. She called her theory "the Little Way". The Little Way is deceptively simple—all it requires us do is to seek out the menial job, to welcome unjust criticisms, to befriend those who annoy us, to help those who are ungrateful, to do the little thankless jobs that need doing. Thérèse was convinced that these little deeds please Jesus more than great holy deeds. And the exciting thing is that anyone can do them. Thus, the path of Jesus is open to all—young and old, powerful and weak alike. The Little Way, she explained, "is based on a theology of grace that sees a God of infinite mercy suffusing and permeating every aspect of my personal existence. Every aspect. This God interacts with me at every second, immanent in all that happens to me, undergirding all the choices I make: everything is grace."

So you see, this God of grace whom we worship, uses the little people: like the servants, and messengers in the Naaman story—and God even uses you and me. But what we can also learn from this story, is that we must be willing to receive this grace. Naaman's pride almost prevented him from being healed. Even though he was a foreigner and an enemy of Israel, he wanted the royal treatment. Instead, he was simply told to go rinse off the muddy river. It took a lot of energy to turn from his prideful ways and do as the prophet’s messenger commanded. He had to be really willing to receive God’s grace.

But at least Naaman’s servant got him to come to his senses and stop blocking God’s grace. What blocks God's grace in our lives? What keeps us from receiving the divine glance God longs to lavish upon us? Are we like Naaman, too prideful, that we think we can take care of our own lives and we don’t actually need God in any significant way? Or is it the opposite extreme: that we cannot accept God's free grace because we feel we're not worthy? Or is it that we just don’t take the time to enter into a meaningful relationship with God on a daily basis because it’s not enough of a priority for us? Whatever the roadblocks may be, I invite you to dwell upon them and think about what you are willing to do to remove them. God urgently desires us to get rid of them and open ourselves so that God can heal us, make us whole and give us peace. For in Christ, our lives have grand significance as we serve our God in the little ways. Amen.

Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

© 2007 Laura E. Gentry

SERVANTS ENTRANCE

A Sermon for The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost
October 7, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry

Luke 17:5-10
The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” 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. “Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table’? Would you not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink’? Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’”(NRSV)

Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Rabbi Harold Kushner tells a wonderful story about a bright young man, who was a sophomore Stanford pre-med student. To reward him for having done so well in school, his parents gave him a trip to the Far East for the summer vacation before the start of his junior year. While there, he met a guru who said to him, “Don't you see how you are poisoning your soul with this success oriented way of life? Your idea of happiness is to stay up all night studying for an exam so you can get a better grade than your best friend. Your idea of a good marriage is not to find the woman who will make you whole, but to win the girl that everyone else wants. That's not how people are supposed to live. Give it up; come join us in an atmosphere where we all share and love each other.” The young man worked so hard to get into Stanford, but had become so competitive and had lost his integrity in the process. He was ripe for this sort of approach. He called his parents from Tokyo and told them he would not be coming home. He was dropping out of school to live in a monastery, called an ashram.

Six months later, his parents got a letter from him: “Dear Mom and Dad, I know you weren't happy with the decision I made last summer, but I want to tell you how happy it has made me. For the first time in my life, I am at peace. Here there is no competing, no hustling, no trying to get ahead of anyone else. Here we are all equal, and we all share. This way of life is so much in harmony with the inner essence of my soul that in only six months I've become the number two disciple in the entire ashram, and I think I can be number one by June!”

They say that all good humor must have one crucial element: Truth. Indeed, this story rings true. The young man's intentions were noble but he was not able to follow through. Before long he was competing in the monastery to be the star pupil!

This is the same mistake Jesus’ disciples make in today’s Gospel lesson. They say to him, “Increase our Faith!” as if they think a person can have more or less faith. Why didn’t they think they had enough faith? A few verses early, Jesus sent them out with power over demons and diseases. They preached with boldness. They went around without any supplies of their own. They had the faith to trust God for all their necessities. They had the faith to heal the sick and cast out demons. They had the faith to proclaim the coming Kingdom of God. Yet, now, like the young man in the ashram, they think they need more faith.

And yet their plea demonstrates that they recognize that faith is not just a matter of their own strength. They cannot increase their own faith without God’s help. We Lutherans affirm what Saint Paul wrote, that we are saved by grace through faith and that it is not our own doing (Eph 2:8). But even the faith through which we receive God’s gift of grace is a gift. I think that our growth in faith is usually a movement from faith to faith (rather than from unbelief to faith). While the faith you have today is similar to the faith given at baptism, it is also different—as God’s word has watered it, it has grown firm and steadfast.

Still, faith is not a commodity, like wealth, that a person can accumulate. So Jesus sets out to explain more about faith to his disciples. He 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.” Scholars interpret the tense used in the original Greek here to mean that they already have the faith of a mustard seed—it is not an “if only you had the faith of a mustard seed,” but more of an affirmation that they presently do have the kind of faith that can move mulberry trees! All they need to do is believe and act on their existing faith and they can do as they’ve been called: to rebuke, repent and forgive within the community, and it will happen. In essence, Jesus seems to be saying that God doesn’t need to give them any more faith—all they must do is make use of the faith that they already have. A mustard seed is all it takes

But I haven’t moved any mulberry trees or mountains lately, have you? Does that mean that we don’t even the faith that’s as tiny as a mustard seed? No, but what this passage makes us recognize, then, is that we need to lean on our faith more, to trust it more. The gift of faith is already ours, the question is, will we use it? I remember a little prayer I read years ago, related to this text. It goes something like: “O God, I don't pray for enough faith to move mountains. I can get enough dynamite and bulldozers to do that. What I need and ask for is enough faith to move me.” Perhaps simply trusting God is more miraculous than supernatural acts like flying trees and moving mountains. “What I need and ask for is enough faith to move me.”

Then Jesus goes on to tell his disciples what they ought to do with this gift of mustard seed faith: there is much work to be done. And regardless of how much the disciples do, they cannot do more than what is expected of them. That’s a tall order, but then again, they’ve been given the miracle of faith. So Jesus tells a parable about a slave. It is interesting that this parable presents an opposite picture of the master and slaves given early in Luke (12:37) when the master returns home to find the slaves waiting for him so he has them sit down to eat and he serves them. In today’s parable, he says that the master would not say to the slave “Come here at once and take your place at the table,” but would instead have the slave get to work—for that is his job.

Jesus asks the disciples if they, as masters, would thank a slave for doing his job. The word “thank” here, can also be translated as “credit,” implying that the slave cannot earn special credits for doing only what was required of him. Do we expect to earn credits with God or gain God's favor simply by doing what God has asked us to do? The point is that we cannot. We cannot win God’s favor by doing good things any more than a slave could earn the master’s favor by obeying his orders.

You see, if the apostles get the increased faith they want so that they can do what is expected of them: stand up to temptations and not be the cause of temptations, rebuke and forgive those who have sinned against them, and repent of their own sins—they still haven’t done anything extraordinary, only what is expected of them. Therefore, they should not expect any special favors from God for being such a great Christian.

Have you ever given a nice gift to someone and then not received a thank you note? Perhaps you mailed the gift and without a thank you note, you don’t even know if the person received it or not. It can be very upsetting. In our culture, we kind of expect thank yous. But we cannot treat God the same way. Do we somehow think God owes us a thank you because we go to church and perhaps we even read the bible on our own time and pray and try to behave like a Christian most of the time? Do we think we’ve done something above and beyond the call of duty that deserves special recognition? Well, this parable puts a damper on that kind of thinking.

What this story reminds us, is that doesn’t God owe us anything for living good, Christian, lives. God’s favor and blessing are matters of grace—they are gifts and cannot be earned. God loves us because he chooses to love us, not because we are lovable. Therefore, when we assume that we can deal with God on the basis of what God owes us, we have made a basic mistake. If that’s the case, we have rejected grace as the basis of our relationship to God and based that relationship on our own worth and merit. We must be humble enough to remember that we are saved by grace, not by works.

Nevertheless, there is a lot of work to be done. I remember that in the church where I was youth director in Montana, there were signs over the exits that said in big, bold letters, “Servant’s Entrance.” People would comment from time to time about the signs, asking, “These are the exits, so why does it say ‘servant’s entrance’?” The pastor would explain, “Because when you leave the house of worship, you are entering the world where you are called to be servants.” Passing through those servant’s entrance doors often helped me put things into perspective as I left worship. We are not here to get puffed up and think about how wonderful and religious we are and how much God owes us for that. We are here to have our faith increased, so that we can be more equipped to do the duties to which we have been called, for example: coming to worship regularly, sharing our time and talents with this congregation and with our community, sacrificing our own pleasures for the sake of those in need, proclaiming the gospel of God’s love in all that we do, seeking to follow in Christ’s footsteps. Now these duties may sound like a lot, but truly, it is the least we can do considering how much God has freely given us.

You may be saying that you are not equipped to do such difficult things for God. That’s just what the disciples were saying when they asked Jesus to increase their faith. Author Madeleine L’Engle put it beautifully when she wrote, “I don't have to have some special qualification to do what I have to do. All I have to do is have the courage to go on and do it.” God has already given you the faith to do these amazing things, that’s all the qualification you need. You just have to have the courage to walk through the servant’s entrance when you leave here today, and take up your duty of service. God will do the rest. You’ll be amazed.

Now may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and our minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.


© 2007 Laura E. Gentry