October 5, 2025 Sermon

The Rev. Joseph Farnes

All Saints, Boise

Proper 22C

          “Increase our faith!” cry out the disciples. We might be finding ourselves saying the same thing. If only we had more faith, we think, then we’d have the power to uproot mulberry trees, move mountains, handle snakes, do monumental works! But, alas, our faith is not even as big as a teensy, tiny mustard seed.

          So what are we to do? We feel like our miniscule faith is standing in the way. We need more faith, bigger faith, we think. If we had this, then we’d be able to do all these things. We feel like we need that supply of mustard seeds to pull from in order to do what we are called to do. We need to have a big bottle faith, like we have a bottle of mustard sitting in the fridge door, and without that mustard, it is simply impossible to make a sandwich.

          That is not what faith is. Faith is not a “thing”.

          Or we think of faith as a feeling. If I felt faithful, then I’d do all these things, but as it is, I don’t feel it, so I don’t feel like doing it. If I don’t have that feeling of faith, then it can’t be real. We encounter that in our daily lives in different ways. If I don’t have that warm tingle of love, then I don’t have love. (We all know that one isn’t true, because we can love someone and at the same time feel annoyed by them). If I don’t have a contented feeling that can withstand all the difficulties of life without ever feeling upset, then maybe I don’t have faith.

          Faith isn’t a feeling, either. Notice the deep faith of the prophet Habakkuk we read today – he launches an indictment against God for all the violence and suffering of the world. He is not contented, he is not at peace, he is not shrugging his shoulders and saying with a pious voice, “Well, God must have a plan, and so I should accept this as God’s will” – Habakkuk the prophet is not quiet, he is not at peace, and yet he demonstrates the depth of his faith by throwing the suffering of the world back at God. Habakkuk’s faith says instead, “Look at this violence and evil, God! Do something!” Habakkuk has faith that he can face the suffering of the world AND he has faith that God is capable of helping AND he has faith that God can be yelled at, without God getting all smite-y.

          Faith, like hope, is not so much a thing, or a feeling – faith, like hope, is a verb. Faith is active. Faith moves. Faith is not thinking the right things or feeling the right emotions – faith is action.

          Faith is praying regardless of whether it gives us the warm fuzzies or not, because we know that prayer directs our hearts, minds, spirits, and bodies toward God, and that is important to do regardless.

          Faith is working for justice and peace, regardless if we feel overwhelmed by the immense needs and pain of the world and unsure if things will change, because we know that we cannot give up. As Rabbi Tarfon says in the Jewish Mishnah, “It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you at liberty to neglect it.”[1] You are not expected to right every wrong and bring the world to perfect healing and justice, but neither are you exempt from being part of the solution. In this way, we are commanded to live out a life of faith. If we think it’s all on us, then we are prone to despair. If we think we can’t do anything, then we forget what God can do in us and through us.

However, if we keep going, doing our part with great love, then we have faith. We have faith that God will work through us to do great things. We have faith that love, peace, and justice are the way of the Kingdom of God, and that we humans were created to be loving, to be peaceful, to be just and fair, because we are made in the image of a loving God, a God who cherishes peace, a God of justice.

We have faith that even in the darkest times, even in the midst of our own pain and fear, we have faith that God is present. We have faith that evil does not triumph – that is the message of the cross and resurrection and the return of Christ. We have faith that nothing will ever separate us from the love of God – and so we have faith that living the way of love, peace, and justice is not only a commandment from God, but also that the way of love, peace, and justice are a day-to-day walking with God.

Jesus wants us to love His way of love with our whole hearts. That confusing part at the end of today’s Gospel reading – “We are worthless slaves, we have only done what we ought to have done!” – it calls us to do the right thing, to be faithful, not because we’re going to get a reward, but to do the right thing simply because it is the right thing to do. We’re not doing the right thing for praise. We’re not doing it because if we suffer for God, then God will get revenge on our enemies. No! We don’t love our enemies because we’re better than them but because we have faith that love is what will heal us all. We want to do the right thing because it’s the right thing – it’s the way of God. We show our faith by living faithfully to the way of God, as best as we can, with as much love as we can.

This is our faith, then. God so loved the world that all was made in love, for love, by love – and we are called to walk in this love, to trust in God’s love powerfully and mightily with all that we do that maybe the love of God might be known in us, through us, and by us, and that the world may be healed and set free.           In this walk of faith, in this walk of trust in God and love in Christ, we are set free and healed – and we keep on walking to bring that trust and love to the whole world. Amen.

[1] Pirkei Avot, 2:16