Luke 17:5 – 10
This is one of those gospel passages
that make you wonder how any of the apostles stayed with Jesus. They
make a perfectly reasonable request. Jesus has been talking in
parables – the prodigal son, the rich man and Lazarus, and several
others we've heard. He just finished telling them that if they
scandalized a child, it would be better that they have a millstone
put around their necks and cast into the sea; and he told them to
forgive over and over again, without limit. And the apostles,
probably pretty confused by now, ask what you and I might ask –
increase our faith.
And Jesus seems to reply with a flat
out insult, and then a few verses in which he seems to compare the
apostles to worthless slaves.
There have been many times I've wanted
more faith. During my years taking care of cancer patients, how I
wished I had the faith that allowed some saints to work miracles of
healing. I still wish I had that kind of faith. And other times
I've wished I had the faith to really understand some of the great
mysteries of our religion – the Trinity, the Incarnation, how
Jesus' death saves us, how Mary can be Virgin and Mother; what really
happens when someone dies – what will happen when I die. And I've
wanted the faith to see how to hate the sin and love the sinner –
comes up all the time these days. And there have been other times
when I've wished I had more faith because of my worries and anxieties
– and I hear myself telling other people who are worried and
anxious, “Have faith!”
Like the word “love” which can
refer to my wife and children, to my car, to my job, to my pet, even
to my favorite food, the word “faith” can mean a lot. And I
guess you have to ask what Jesus means by faith. It seems like he
often tells those who have come to him for a miracle that they have
faith. He tells the foreign woman with the bleeding problem that her
faith has made her whole. He tells his apostles in regard to the
centurion who wanted his servant healed, “I have not found greater
faith in Israel”. He tells a blind beggar, “Your faith has made
you well.”. And what is common to all these individuals is that
they turned to Jesus, trusting that He would do for them what he had
done for others. For Jesus, faith is not working miracles, knowing
how God can be one and three at the same time, or a remedy for
anxiety and worry. For Jesus, faith is turning to him in trust.
And You all know that when I get
confused by the gospel, I try to find out what it might have sounded
like in the original Greek, and this is no exception. The words “If
you had faith the size of a mustard seed” could be better
translated as “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed – and
you do”. Jesus is saying “You have all the faith you need” or
maybe “you can't measure faith like a bunch of apples – it isn't
quantifiable.”
And Jesus compares the life of faith
to the life of a slave – and in those days slavery was taken for
granted. Some people owned other people. Some were captives of war,
some were people who had sold themselves in exchange for food and a
place to sleep; and some were working off a debt that they could not
pay in any other way. And we've met many slaves in the bible. A
slave's life was not terribly exciting; some were treated well and
some poorly, but you pretty much knew what you would be doing that
day when you woke up. And you knew that if you did a lousy job, you
might be beaten or mistreated; but if you did what was expected,
things would go along as they had before. You would do your job, you
would eat and drink and sleep and do your job again. And in those
days, in that time, being a slave was preferable to starving or
begging or other undesirable and even sinful ways of life.
And Jesus is probably telling his
apostles that faith is not something you have, it's something you do.
It's supposed to affect everything you do. It's the complement you
offer when you didn't have to say anything. It's the taking time to
listen to the person in the nursing home who doesn't make a lot of
sense. It's getting up on Saturday morning and preparing food for
shut-ins and people who are grieving. It's holding a pro-life sign
in front of the abortion clinic on a cold afternoon. It's holding
your tongue when you have the perfect words to put someone down who
just said something you don't agree with. And you live this way
because you trust Jesus, you believe that he can take little things
that you do or don't do and make them great. And that's all that is
expected of you – to do the little things and trust.
There is a current in Christianity
that sort of expects that if I do something good, something
worthwhile, something that brings the kingdom of heaven a little
closer, I should be rewarded for that. The whole story of the New
Testament is that we are given everything, free of charge, because
Jesus took our place on the cross and conquered sin and death; we can
only lose heaven if we choose that. But part of being a Christian is
that we conform ourselves to Christ. We allow Christ to work in us
and through us. And the good that comes from our actions really
comes from Christ in us, working to do the will of his father. We
just have to be open to all those moments every day that we can
choose to act like Christ, or choose to act for ourselves. And
acting like Christ is the default for someone who has been baptized
into his life and death.
Their are several gospel translations
around. When they all say slightly different things you begin to ask
what did the original say? That's not easy to answer; the original
is in Greek, and the Greek of 2000 years ago, with a totally
different context than our own. But one scholar says that the words
“unworthy servants” or “worthless slaves” really should
translate as “slaves who aren't owed anything.” And Jesus is
saying that when we do what we have been commanded to do, that is
it's own reward.
