Increase Our Faith!
The disciples, following Jesus, voice just that request in our lesson from the gospel of Luke this morning. We know however that that same request might just as well have come from our own mouths today. "Increase our faith!" Perhaps we have said, "Lord I've been reading the newspapers and I have heard the speculation about other terrorist attacks, I've been worried by the prospects of war and I am afraid. "Lord, Increase my faith!"
Or perhaps at those times we might call the "dark night of the soul" we have had to admit, I doubt, I wonder, I question; Is there really a God or is this just a crutch we construct for ourselves to try to make sense of this world? Lord, Increase my faith! Or maybe we get that pledge card from the church for another year and we think I just can't increase my commitment, the economy is bad, my expenses are up. Lord, increase my faith!
I had a seminary professor whose favorite mantra for his students was "Faith is a verb." Faith is not something we have or possess, a noun, faith is an action word, a verb. I think that's what Jesus was getting at in our lesson today. For Jesus faith is not adhering to doctrine or a particular set of beliefs it is a reality that makes thing happen. Our beliefs are outside of us until they make us do something. The question we need to ask in not just "do you believe?" but do you believe in such a way that it works and shapes your life?
Jesus is clearly saying faith is not quantifiable. It can't be packed into a box, or a shopping cart or piled up in a bank account. Faith is not measured. Perfect for a children's sermon and no more complex, faith as small as a mustard seed is enough to do all that needs doing. Simple enough for a children's sermon. And perhaps it's children we need to help us understand.
Robert Coles, the famous psychoanalyst who has written five volumes about children in crisis, and additional works on the political life of children, was moved to explore and then write the book The Spiritual Life of Children when he finally came to realize that children had very definite questions and answers about God. He came to deeply respect the faith of children. He tells the true story of Ruby Bridges, an African American child whose trust in God's love for her and confidence in the power of God's love allowed her at age six to desegregate an all-white elementary school in New Orleans single-handedly. Her faith was sufficient to allow her to walk through a gauntlet of angry, loud, white women and men every morning and afternoon accompanied by an armed guard and pray for those who shouted hateful things at her. Her confidence in God's love and power operating to transform the world allowed her to control her fear so that she could bear her witness to the freedom for love. Ruby's story illustrates well the relationship between faith and the life of faith. Because Ruby experienced herself and the world in light of God's gracious love, she practiced that love at her church, her home and at school. Ruby did not need to be older, bigger or more mature in her thinking than she already was to participate in uprooting a vast system of racial injustice.
Sometimes it seems children see things more clearly than we adults do because they look at the world with the eyes of faith unblinded by the obstacles and excuses and realities that we adults need to import to every situation. For many years running, at the epiphany retreat with the confirmands we would play a simulation game. One year, I remember in particular. We played a game having to do with getting food to poor people in a South American country. The game had the confirmands portraying small farmers and transporters. It had marketers and politicians and even buyers from the U.S. The point of the game was of course to show the kids how many parties are involved and how complicated that involvement can be. The kids played beginning with various levels of enthusiasm and gradually increasing in fervor. Afterwards they debriefed as a whole group. I still remember one little blonde girl from another church getting up to say something, obviously out of a deep sense of frustration almost to the point of tears. "I just don't understand why this doesn't work, why we all can't get together on this," she said. "Here's what we have to do." And she outlined a very clear plan. She saw clearly and was absolutely right. It's just her plan didn't allow for the profit motives of some of the players. Her plan assumed everyone would do what they were supposed to do.
Jesus, as our lesson this morning continues,
goes on to talk about servants doing what they're supposed to
do. In our much more egalitarian, democratic society this part
of the lesson is a little harder to comprehend than in Jesus time
when society was so much more clearly stratified into slaves and
owners but I think it's not totally irretrievable. Consider this:
A patient in a hospital knocks over a cup of water spilling it
on the floor next to the patient's bed. The patient was afraid
he might slip on the water if he got out of bed, so he asked a
nurse's aid to mop it up. The patient didn't know it but it was
the policy of the hospital that small spills were the responsibility
of the nurse's aides and large spills were the responsibility
of the housekeeping staff.
The nurse's aid decided that the spill was a large one and called
the housekeeping department. The housekeeper arrived and declared
the spill a small one. An argument followed. "It's not my
responsibility," said the nurses aide, "because it's
a large puddle." The housekeeper didn't agree. "It's
not mine," she said, "the puddle's too small."
The patient listened for a time, then took the pitcher of water
from the night stand and poured the whole thing on the floor.
"Is that a big enough puddle now for you two to decide?"
Jesus addresses his disciples on the question of responsibility. He's not talking about over and above here, he's not talking extraordinary, outlandish unselfish efforts. Jesus is talking about the basics, about doing the job, about getting it done. The punch line is "only doing what we ought to have done!" If we are understanding disciples, we'll not only agree with Jesus description, we'll also be bothered by his point. He's offered us another one of those irritating truths. Oftentimes we're the ones quibbling about the size of puddles.
It's been over two decades since the killing of Kitty Genovese in New York City. For those of you too young to remember this, She was attacked and screamed for more than 90 minutes. 38 of her neighbors were aware of the attack and did nothing, not even call the police. Two young psychologists, Darly and Latane, decided to study the conditions under which people are or are not willing to take responsibility. In an experiment, Daryl and Latane found that when one bystander was present 85% offered help. When two were present, 62% offered help. When five were present only 31% offered help. They called this the bystander effect. The more people there are available to take responsibility the more each one can turn from responsibility.
Conversely, in New York City this past month
we have heard countless tales of what we would call heroism. Firefighters,
emergency technicians, police risking and giving their lives in
untold acts of courage. And yet I have noticed again and again
when firefighters, EMTs and police have talked about what their
comrades did and what they were about, they say " we were
just doing our job."
A lot of commentators on our text form this morning don't see
how the two parts of this lesson are related. Many of them imagine
that Luke just arbitrarily took these two diverse teachings of
Jesus and stuck them together. I don't know, I think they march
hand in hand. Lord increase our faith? How much faith do we
need? Just enough to see what needs doing and then maybe only
enough to do what it is our responsibility to do.
Amen.