October 2, 2022 – World Communion Sunday

When I was in middle school, my church offered a backpacking trip to anyone who was interested in going. My parents knew this trip would be more physically rigorous than the kind of thing we were used to, so they set to work helping us get into shape as a family. They would take bike rides and hikes and walks around our neighborhood. My brother was always eager to go. As a committed Boy Scout, he loved preparing for the adventure we were about to take. I, on the other hand, had no desire to prepare. I wasn’t a particularly athletic child. I walked almost the whole mile when our PE teacher sent the class out for a run. I struggled to take deep breaths, and for a number of years, the doctor wondered if I might have asthma. If anyone needed this training, it was me. And, if anyone was going to avoid it like the plague, it was also me.

Looking back, I’m pretty sure my parents undertook this training and preparation because they knew I needed it more than anyone else in our family. But, whenever they would organize a bike ride or a hike, I would opt out. I might have taken them up on the offer once or twice (and promptly regretted it), but mostly I just waved at them from the front door when they set out on their bikes. They even practiced carrying filled packs on their backs so they could get used to hiking while carrying so much weight. 

Every time they would return from their training exercises, my parents would tell me, “You’re going to regret not training for this.” Or, “It’s going to be very hard for you to complete this backpacking trip if you don’t practice before we go there.” I would shrug my shoulders and tell everyone I would be just fine, thank you very much.

When the time came and our ragtag group of backpackers from church arrived at the trailhead, I hoisted my loaded, heavy backpack onto my back. My parents said, “April, this is going to be so much harder than you expect it to be.” I told them I would be fine. I struggled and limped and trudged over the rocky miles of our hike. I refused to complain, mostly because I’m stubborn and didn’t want anyone to know I regretted not preparing. I ate the campfire spaghetti—complete with the mosquitos (extra protein) that got too close to the sauce–without any griping. I made it through the trip and I had a wonderful experience, but every muscle in my body would scream at me at the end of our hikes each day. I would get into my sleeping bag at the end of the day convinced that I wouldn’t be able to sleep because of the muscle pain, only to fall asleep because I was exhausted.

Years later, my parents were talking about the trip to someone else and my mom remarked that she thought I did the best job hiking out of anyone in our family. She said, “And I couldn’t even believe it because she was the one who did the least to get in shape ahead of time.” I smiled and didn’t say much, but on the inside I knew I hadn’t handled it nearly as well as I had let on. I made it through, but I struggled harder and felt the pain more than I would have if I had committed myself to the daily practice of getting ready.

This morning we are beginning a new sermon series we are calling “Falling in Step with Jesus.” This series is all about the practical stuff, the daily preparation, of our life in Christ. It’s about walking our talk, or practicing what we preach. Or, to put it another way, it’s about how the rubber meets the road. This fall, we are embarking on this series and asking the question, “What would it look like for me to fall in step with Jesus in my daily life?” Each week we will explore Scripture and we will listen for the Holy Spirit urging us to commit ourselves to the work of being disciples of Jesus, people who are becoming–one step at a time–people who look more like Jesus in their daily lives.

As we begin this series, maybe you are eager to dive in. Maybe you are impatiently awaiting the practical steps, the trip itinerary, the training program for living as the hands and feet of Jesus in this world. Or, maybe you are like me before the backpacking trip. You know taking the steps ahead of time is a good idea, but you’re a little stubborn. Or, a lot. We may be able to complete the hike without the training, but–speaking from experience–I think we will enjoy the views and the moments a little bit more if we’re accustomed to the work it’s going to take.

This morning, we have before us two passages of Scripture, one from the Gospel of Luke and one from Paul’s first letter to the church in Corinth. The passage from Luke is part of a series of teachings of Jesus. The teachings might seem strange, or like they don’t go together very well. But, upon closer inspection, it seems that Jesus is urging his listeners to reconsider what faith is really all about. In a short teaching on forgiveness, Jesus uses the example of someone who sins against you. If another disciple of Jesus sins against you, you are supposed to rebuke them, or tell them that they have sinned against you. If they repent, you are supposed to forgive them. Seems pretty self-explanatory, right?

But, what if the person does this to you seven times a day? Seven times a day, they sin against you personally, and you tell them they’ve done it. If they repent every time, Jesus says you are to forgive them. Does that even seem possible to you? The first time or two, forgiveness might come easily. Especially if it seems like the other person is doing it unintentionally. But what about 4, 5, 6, or even 7 times? It would make me want to say, “Sorry doesn’t cut it. If you’re really sorry, show it to me by not doing it to me again.”

The disciples heard Jesus’ words, and they knew it was impossible for them. How could they keep forgiving someone who wronged them over and over? So, they asked Jesus, “Increase our faith!” Lord, we aren’t strong enough. We don’t have enough faith. We aren’t righteous enough to do what you are asking of us. I love the way Audrey West, professor of New Testament reacted to this teaching. She wrote, “Despite 2000+ years separating their experience from ours, their appeal would be right at home in the up-sizing, bigger-better-more culture of today. It is all too easy to notice what one lacks rather than to recognize gifts already received.”

Jesus tells them they don’t need more faith. That’s not the problem. Jesus said to them, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” Does this mean the disciples didn’t even have a mustard seed size faith? Perhaps. But, I don’t think that’s really the issue. Jesus gives a strange example about not thanking a servant for doing the work the servant is supposed to do. The example feels…uncomfortable. I suspect Jesus used this example because the people would relate to it, and not because expressing gratitude to people is wrong. Basically, Jesus is saying that faith isn’t something we accumulate. It’s something that is who we are. It is something that we do.    

Even the smallest amount of faith, when it is put into action, can change the world. It can change the landscape–maybe not in the form of a tree getting uprooted, but in the form of love that changes a situation, forgiveness that makes a new relationship possible, grace that lifts someone up out of a situation of despair. 

For those of us who are in Christ Jesus, faith is that thing we do. 

But, what does that look like?

Paul tackled this question when he wrote to the church in Corinth. They were struggling with what to do about meat sacrificed to idols, which was a common practice in their time. What should they do if they are invited to a meal at someone’s house? Should they ask the host if the meat had been offered to idols? Or, should they just eat what is offered to them? 

Paul gives a frustrating answer, but it’s the right one. His answer is: it depends. When food is offered to idols, it doesn’t really change the food. It doesn’t harm us to eat it. But, the way we choose to live out our faith can either make it easier for people to see Jesus, or harder. In situations where it might cause someone else trouble in their faith, Paul says it is best to abstain, not because the food would harm us, but because not harming our sisters and brothers in the faith is a higher priority. 

As we enter into this season of fall, and as we seek to fall into step with Jesus, we are being challenged to live out our faith, no matter how small our faith might seem. We are challenged to do the work. To forgive, even when it’s hard. To make sacrifices for the well-being of our neighbors. To feed those who are hungry and help those who are hurting. We don’t need more faith in order to do this. We just need to use the little bit of faith that God has already given us. After all, faith is a gift from God. We didn’t earn it. We didn’t receive faith because of something we did. God gave us what we need for this time, in this space, in this season.

So, let us gather around the table with each other. Let’s be fed and nurtured by Jesus, who spared nothing to bring us into relationship with him. And then let’s do the work–step by step, little by little.

If each one of us puts our little mustard seeds of faith to work, we will see lives transformed, relationships changed, community formed. To God be the glory! Amen.