There’s a story about a woman who goes into a coffee shop for a little afternoon break. She goes to the counter and gets her coffee and a package of cookies, then looks for a place to sit. The shop is crowded, so she is forced to take a chair at a small table already occupied by a man reading a newspaper. She’s not looking for company, but she sits down with her coffee and package of cookies, gives him a quick smile and nod, then buries herself in her book.
She notices out of the corner of her eye that the man reaches out and takes a cookie from the package on the table. Rude, she thinks, but tries to ignore it. She reaches out and takes a cookie for herself. Pretty soon she sees his hand sliding across the table and taking another cookie out of the package. This time she looks up at him, really giving him a look. He just smiles at her. She takes another cookie out of the package and goes back to her book, but by now she is quite distracted by this man’s behavior.
This goes on, he takes a cookie, she takes a cookie. She is beside herself with rage, but too polite to say anything to him. Finally, with two cookies left, he takes one and pushes the package toward her, inviting her to take the last one. She gives him a hard glare and takes the last cookie.
When she leaves the shop, she opens her purse – there lies the package of cookies she bought, unopened.
Occasions for stumbling are bound to come, and sometimes we bring them upon ourselves, don’t we? I often find myself praying that God will make me a better person; or, increase my faith.
I don’t know what to think about this “faith the size of a mustard seed” comment. A mustard seed is very tiny. And so the contrast between something so very small having the power to uproot and replant trees, in the sea, no less – this is huge. And if faith that small can do things that are virtually impossible, then what does my faith look like? Too small to even be visible.
And then I begin to wonder what faith the size of a pumpkin seed could do. That’s a lot larger than a mustard seed, so it would seem that it could do even more astounding things. But I have no idea what those things could be, because he has already taken me beyond the realm of comprehension with the mustard seed analogy.
Clearly, I am in way above my head. How does one measure faith?
Before I went into ministry I had a career in educational testing, and I know how to measure all kinds of things, but I still wonder how to measure faith. Can we measure it by outputs, as Jesus’ words here suggest? So maybe I can’t move mountains or mulberry trees, but can my faith move something smaller, like dandelions, perhaps?
It’s easier to measure material things, but it might be more realistic to consider the impact of our faith on nonmaterial things, like whether my faith can move someone to be more loving. But still, I don’t know.
Perhaps our faith, all together, can move something. Maybe our combined faith can move our community toward greater peace or wellness. Do you think our faith could do that? Still, it’s a tricky thing to measure.
Honestly, I don’t know if faith is something that can be measured. I am not sure that was really the point Jesus wanted to make. Because when we start measuring our faith it becomes all about us. And when we start measuring our faith, we begin comparing ourselves to others to see if we are greater or lesser than they are.
He follows that strange comment about faith with a strange parable about masters and servants. And again, he uses the old “which one of you” technique. Which one of you would say to your servant coming in from working in the field, “Come and sit at the table with me”? which one of you would thank the servant for merely doing what he was told to do?
It seems cold, doesn’t it? It strikes us as entirely undemocratic – which, of course, it is. Jesus did not live in a democracy. But there is another aspect of the story that you might not notice right away: the disciples, or apostles as they are called here, were not wealthy men. They did not have servants to order about – especially now, that they have walked away from everything to follow him. How strange to ask them to think this way. They might more readily identify with the servant than the master.
And at the next moment he has switched perspectives, and he does ask them to see themselves as the servant. “So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.’” And, of course, they know that this is the way things work. Servants do their duty and their reward is a job well done.
I imagine this parable is a lot harder for us to deal with than it was for the disciples at his side, because it reflected the world in which they lived. And while we might still protest that such an oppressive and hierarchical social system is not a good system, that democracy is far superior, it may help us to take a step back – remembering that it is a parable – and reflect on what he is trying to teach. We might reflect on what it says about our relationship with God. Because, sure, equality among all people is good – even godly. But when we begin to assume we are in any way on an equal footing with God, we are in trouble.
Well, hold that thought for a moment. Let’s get back to the question of faith. How do you measure faith? Or, do you measure faith?
Perhaps you don’t measure faith after all. Perhaps faith is something you either have or don’t have – the size of it is immaterial, hence, faith the size of a mustard seed is plenty. And the way you have faith is by being open to receiving it. Faith begins with God’s actions toward us, and then our openness to receiving it.
We can only receive what is offered. Any attempts to demand something different will only get in the way. Our master offers us good gifts – indeed, all that we have is a gift from the master! Opening our hearts and our hands to God, there is no need that cannot be answered.
When we assume God owes us something, this will keep us impoverished. We will be as pitiful as the woman who mistakenly assumed those were her cookies sitting on the table. The blessings are more than abundant when we are simply open to receiving what is so graciously offered.
Getting our relationship with God ordered rightly is the key to the riches of faith.
____________________________________
Photo by Nana Lapushkina: https://www.pexels.com/photo/food-wood-coffee-dark-10479058/
