Father Gary’s Sermon

Inspired from Luke 17:5-10

Proclaimed on October 3, 2004

Paul Tillich, who was a German and one of the world’s greatest theologians while he lived, told this story. It came from one of the witnesses at the Nuremberg Trial. During World War II he lived in a graveyard in Poland. It was a place where some Jews lived after escaping a concentration camp in the area. This man reported an experience of a young woman who had given birth to a baby boy in one of the graves. A gravedigger served as a midwife to the process. After the birth the man lifted the newly born child high into the air and proclaimed, “Great God, has thou finally sent the Messiah to us? For who else but the Messiah could be born in a grave?” Unfortunately, three days later the child died. His mother could not provide her child the milk he needed to survive. However, the gravedigger’s faith remained intact for his was an in spite of faith.

We are presented with the same kind of story in our Gospel reading this morning. The disciples, after observing the many mighty works that were accomplished through Jesus, asked him to increase their faith. This made their request sound as though they were empty cups that needed to be filled with something. The answer of Jesus was along the same line when he declared that they only needed a small amount of faith. Indeed, faith the size of a mustard seed was all that was needed in order to move a mighty mountain. Now the question that naturally arises out of this answer is whether Jesus was simply being absurd? After all, on no occasion is it ever reported that Jesus actually moved a mountain. However, perhaps he was speaking metaphorically in that his acts did often accomplish what appeared to be the impossible.

Perhaps the real answer appears in what he stated earlier when he spoke about slaves. Slavery is not about a quantity of something. Rather it involves a quality. It is about a relationship. When Israel was in Egypt, they were the slaves of pharaoh. When they were freed from Eygpt, they became the slaves of Yahweh. The answer of Jesus reflected this reality. However, it is questionable how many of the people surrounding Jesus at this time saw their relationship with God as one of slavery. It was evident, however, that he did view his own relationship with God in this manner. Indeed, he was not God’s slave as the result of some sort of “power” or “force,” it was a matter of “trust.” By giving himself over completely and willingly to God, God in turn did mighty things through him.

Paul Tillich more recently answered this question when he defined faith as being that which grasps us. It is always something greater than us. When God grasps us, we then find ourselves in a personal relationship that shakes us, focuses us, heals us, and takes us through a process of transformation. Ultimately, it is something we have to surrender to.

How does this work in our present lives? For one, it is not easy to be people of faith during this time. We have just survived Hurricane Ivan. Though we have literally escaped with our lives, we are now surrounded by devastation no matter where we look. Furthermore, we are also trying to live without electricity, gas, and even television. It is tough!

What has been difficult for me is to be without a phone. My duties as a priest have a great deal to do with communication. Having no phone service has deeply affected my abilities to do my job. To remedy this I went to the Cingular Phone Shop to buy a new and better phone. When I arrived, there were two long lines of people wanting to do the same thing. As I stood in that line and waited, I heard a great many complaints about Cingular. Many verbalized loudly how this company was just trying to take advantage of them by recently adding a new technology that just so happened to be the only cellular service that was operating. Therefore, in order to have working phones, they would have to buy a new phone equipped with this new technology. These same people, I secretly concluded, would be the same ones complaining if other companies upgraded their technology and Cingular didn’t. Suffice it to say there was a great deal of tension in that room that morning. I prayed that I might be a vehicle of God’s grace during this time.

After a long period of time I arrived at the front of the line. I admired the sales person serving me, as she must have heard many of these complaints. Despite all of the negativity, she remained polite and competent. I was determined to be as positive with her as I could. So when she bid me welcome, I commented that she would probably welcome a nice relaxing bath in a hot tub when she got home that night, if she could only find some hot water. She smiled, obviously relieved to be speaking to a friendly face, and said quietly, “I’d rather have a good stiff drink!” We both laughed loudly as she proceeded to assist me. Her comment, however, obviously concerned her. Indeed, I figured she must be a Baptist when she later said to me, “Please don’t get the wrong idea about me. I really don’t want a good stiff drink.” I smiled and responded in turn, “I understand. You really meant to say that you needed TWO strong drinks!” She broke into a huge smile and we both began to laugh loudly. Indeed, everybody in the room stopped what they were doing. Soon smiles began to spread over faces that were earlier carrying scowls. Suddenly everyone’s burdens seemed ligher.

This event reminded me of a story that was shared by someone in a recent Vestry meeting. It was about an abbot who was in charge of a dying monastery. His monks were reduced to despair and continual fighting. This particular abbot made it a habit to go into nearby woods to pray. Oftentimes, on these vigils into the woods, he would pass a local rabbi who also prayed among the trees. One day he stopped and talked with the rabbi. Indeed, his heart was so heavy that he began sharing his deepest concerns. He wondered what it would take to get the monastery back on its feet again. After listening to the abbot pour out his heart, the rabbi responded, “My friend, I have been praying for your monastery for a long time. The other night I received a special word. The Almighty told me that the Messiah was at your monastery.”

These words shocked the abbot. When he returned to the monastery he shared the words of the rabbi with all of his monks. They shared in his surprise. Each of them realized that they could not be the one that the rabbi spoke of, for each of them were very familiar with what was in each of their hearts. As they thought of others in the monastery, however, they remained equally perplexed. Each other person who they believed might be the Messiah had glaring faults that deemed them unworthy. However, what if the Messiah was just trying to not be obvious. Suddenly they began to treat each other differently. They behaved as though any one of them could be the Messiah. As the days went by the atmosphere of the monastery completely changed. They were more patient and loving with one another. Others on the outside also began to notice, as well. Soon the monastery began to grow not only in Spirit, but also in numbers. Why? Because they believed the Messiah was among them. Indeed, they began to look in each other for the Messiah. In so doing, the Messiah had come among them in truth.

Unlike the gravedigger’s hope for the Messiah being born in the grave, today we have a Messiah that has been born out of the grave. He grasps us with his Spirit. He moves upon us not through an overwhelming power, but rather through the most personal of relationships. Furthermore, like the monks, we discover this relationship with the Messiah in one another. We may discover the Messiah as I did in a Cingular Phone Store or any other place for that matter. Furthermore, as we seek the Messiah in one another we will find our hearts, homes, and community shaken, focused, healed, and transformed. Through these special relationships we may not literally move mountains, but we certainly will be able to remove the fallen trees, stumps, and debris that surround us. Indeed, we will find nothing impossible.