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A Sermon for Dayspring

By Eric Howell

“Increase My Faith!”

Luke 17:5

October 2, 2016

“Increase our faith,”asked the apostles of Jesus. They were people who believed in Jesus. They weren’t without faith in him, but the more time they spent with him, the more theyfelt like they were going to need more faith if they were going to live the life Jesus was calling them to.

Reminds of the little boat out in the ocean hunting the big shark in the movie Jaws. When the big shark actually appears beneath the surface of the water, one of the crew whispers, “We’re gonna need a bigger boat.” I can hear that same realization dawning on the apostles when Jesus talks about forgiveness, and sacrifice, and the costly way of the cross. Can’t you see them turn to one another wide-eyed and say, “We’re gonna need a bigger faith.”

So then they ask for it, but it’s not really a question. It’s not a polite request; it’s a demand. They wanted more faith so maybe they wouldn’t worry so much, or doubt, or fear. Worry, doubt, and fear are what faith is supposed to eliminate, and they probably had plenty of each. Well, we’d all like to have our faith increased. We’d all like to ask Jesus to increase our faith. Right?

It’s been said (Thomas Merton, The Ascent to Truth) that there are three kinds of unbelief. The first kind is that of an atheist, a person who perhaps once believed in God but now rejects God, and “having rejected God, strives to stamp out the idea of God.” (Merton, The Ascent to Truth, 38). We might recognize in extreme atheism a form of religion gone haywire, a kind of anti-faith because it’s impossible to live without some kind of faith in something. This is a person who, at least outwardly, is not saying to Jesus “increase my faith,” but would very much like to diminish the faith of everyone else. That’s the atheist, one of three kinds of unbelief.

On the other end of the spectrum is another kind of unbelief exhibited by those who are nominally members of churches, who go through the motions, but have almost entirely no real interest in God. They retain a certain loyalty to church traditions, but as far as they are concerned, God and the will of God might as well not exist.

Recently in The Washington Post was an article about this kind of unbelief; actually it spans both of these two kinds of people. A pastor of a church in the suburbs of Toronto, Canada has decided she is an atheist and doesn’t believe in God. She’s neither shy nor apologetic about it. “We don’t talk about God,” she said in an interview. The congregation is said to be just fine with all of this, but as you might expect, her rejection of God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit has prompted some hand wringing from her denomination. They are generally nice, inclusive people who have a hard time saying that someone shouldn’t belong for any reason, but they’re thinking, “This is going a little far for a pastor.” Here’s a pastor, indeed a whole congregation, who, by their own account, do church with no God.

To that we might be willing to say, “Well, at least they’re honest.” There are people in lots of churches for whom God may as well not exist except as a mascot for their other interests.

So the atheist is not praying, ‘”Increase my faith,” because he or she has rejected God and the possibility of faith. The other kind of person, clinging to the outward symbols of faith, doesn’t really think much of God either. On one hand are atheists, some of whom actively battle against faith. On the other hand are those with dead faith. For different reasons neither are on their knees at night asking Jesus “Increase my faith.” Both more or less go onsatisfied with their lack of it.

There is a third group, and this is the one that the disciples most speak for in their prayer. This is the person who intellectually accepts the existence of God, often practices the forms of church life, and still finds themself paralyzed, unable to believe. This is the real problem of unbelief: those who know God but cannot believe. Thomas Merton’s description of this kind of experience of unwilling unbelief is so tender:

“They are often involved in the most acute spiritual anguish because of this ambivalence. They recognize the existence and value of faith. They often wish they had some of it. They sincerely envy those who can believe, who can accept the teaching authority of the church and enter fully into [the Christian] life . . .They are able to appreciate the happiness of truly religious [people]. They find the claims of [Christianity] entirely reasonable. They are not in the least perplexed at the thought that God speaks to [people] through Christ and that Christ has handed on his ruling, teaching and sanctifying power to His Mystical Body, [the Church], which prolongs His incarnation and keeps him visibly present in the world of humanity. And yet they cannot believe.”

I wonder how many such people there are in the world today! People who want peace with God but are paralyzed. They feel utterly and hopelessly stuck. And so they pray:

Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.

Give me a sign.

If you are real, show me.

Where are you God?

Jesus, do something. Erase my doubt, help me not worry, take away my fear, make this work for me. Do something.

Increase my faith.

So the disciples implore him, “Increase our faith!” And he responds with: “If you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you could say to this tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the ocean,’ and it would obey you.” So what kind of answer is this? Is Jesus rebutting the apostle’s demand or fulfilling it? Is this connection between faith and the mustard seed chiding them for having so very little faith? Or is it an encouragement, a way of making the point: you have no idea what you’re asking. You don’t need me to give you a bigger faith. You have from me all you need. Now it’s yours to realize the true power of that which is already within you.

I think we can take it as an encouragement. We may not know anything about commanding trees to uproot and plant in the ocean, but we know something about being insecure that we don’t have as much faith as we should have, or, as much as God wants us to have. I think many of us could say:

I know something about swallowing my tongue in fear instead of sharing my faith.

I know a lot about not doing something because I worry that I can’t see the path in front of me beyond the next step.

I know something about feeling like anxiety is a more powerful force than faith.

I know a lot about wondering if I’ll ever have enough . . .more time for prayer, more freedom from sin, more generosity with my time and money, more understanding of the mysteries, more patience with other people, more Bible study, more faith.

And I know deep down about not wanting to have more faith because it might mean I might have to suffer more. One of the main reasons why we keep our faith sterile is we fear to pay the price of faith. Because it’s always a dying to our old self and being born to new life. It’s often fear of the inner revolution that paralyzes us from submission to God.

I have no condemnation for a person who finds themselves in this situation. Often it is this person who really gets the extraordinary costliness of the gospel’s demands and trembles, who stands in awe of resurrection and wonders, who has contemplated the mystery of an unseen creator God, and kneels in humility.

We don’t know all that was going on with Timothy there in the Bible, but when we read about him, we see that there is pain, and anguish. There are tears, and timidity. There’s fear, and shame. It’s all the vocabulary of a person who feels like they have lost their faith in God and they don’t know how to get it back.

In 2 Timothy there is no condemnation and no judgment, only encouragement to remember, recall, and rekindle faith that has diminished. The tender encouragement is highlighted by five direct instructions given to him, and to any person struggling with their faith. We would do well to remember these:

1. Rekindle the gift of God that is within you. This is the matter of your will. Rekindling a fire that has almost died requires attention and patience. The flames will not burn without your effort. So whatever little spark of a flame that is still in you, no matter how cool the coal may be, work with that. Feed it, fan it, give it room to breathe. You’d be surprised how a fire can start from just a spark. You’d be surprised what can grow with faith as small as a mustard seed.

2. Do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord. This is the matter of how you feel about the mysterious and miraculous claims of Christian faith. One of the most encouraging times in my life was when I met a professor who was one of the smartest people I’d ever met, who believed in the Trinity, in the resurrection, in the Holy Spirit. I’d begun to wonder if maybe really smart people could see through the ancient doctrines, but he, among others, restored my confidence. Do not be ashamed of the gospel. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. And I would add here: do not let shame in yourself keep you from the gospel. The gospel of Jesus Christ is just exactly for people who have failed and need a savior. There is no need for shame here.

3. Join me in suffering for the gospel. This is the matter of the character of the Christian life. Sometimes people who want to increase their faith look for a sign or for a break in life. I wish everyone could have a sign. I wish that hurting people would catch a break. But we have to be careful not to confuse the two. In fact, the way the Bible talks, to live on your faith is to expect some suffering to come your way because of it. If you have guilt because of sin in your life, that’s a holy suffering meant to draw you home to the grace of God. If other people criticize you or mock you for your faith, that’s to be expected. You’re in a long line of people who’ve endured with perseverance for their faith. In any case, in every case, you’re not alone. Join in the suffering that faith in Christ may bring to your life.

4. Hold to the standard of sound teaching that you have heard. Faith is not without substance. One of the challenges I think many people have is that their understanding of the complexities of the world grows as they grow up, but their understanding of faith is still what it was when they were in Sunday School as a kid. Many adult humans are still baby Christians who have yet to eat solid food. Others have grown up eating spiritual food with little nutritional value.

It’s like the difference between eating cheese puffs and real food. Cheese puffs are intentionally designed in the lab to dissolve when they hit your tongue. That way, you don’t have to chew them or really swallow them much so you keep eating them. They require nothing of you. It’s not real food. And that’s like a lot of so-called Christian thought out there being served: it tastes good at first, but dissolves on contact. There’s no substance to it.

But there is a world of sound Christian teaching about the mysteries of God that can bless your life and strengthen your faith. I never want to say, “Christianity makes sense,” because the resurrection should never make sense. It should never be reduced to something that makes sense to our limited minds. But I can say: “Christianity is not fool’s gold. It’s not empty calories.” Christianity is full of riches for the soul and the mind. Sometimes the best thing you can do for your faith is read a new book. Sometimes the best thing you can do is commit yourself to memorize the Apostle’s Creed. Hold to the sound teaching of the faith. It will encourage you.

5. Guard the good treasure entrusted to you with the help of the Holy Spirit. The good treasure is the gospel. If we are fortunate enough to be among those who have heard the good news of Christ, this is a great gift. It is a treasure. We don’t treat it casually or carelessly or take it for granted. We don’t wipe our feet on it, or leave it out in the rain to rust and spoil. We nurture it like a prize, like a gift.

Here we are told to guard it. I think that means we protect its life in us likeour chest protects our beating heart. Those who know they have a treasure care for it and tend to it; they value it and take pleasure that they have it. We have the greatest treasure and it is not to be taken for granted, but we are to be thankful daily for this good gift of the gospel God has entrusted to us: the gospel gift of salvation, the pleasure of a community of faith, the calling to bless the lives of others, hope in despair, love for all people, faith in God in this life and the next, and the promise of forgiveness of sins and redemption.

Rekindle the flame, don’t be ashamed. Join in suffering, hold the teaching, guard the treasure. These are good gifts of encouragement to any of us who want to know and love God and could use a little help.

May we all be set free from paralysisby worry, doubt, or fear to the beginning of renewed faith in Jesus Christ, wherever he leads.

Copyright by Eric Howell, 2016