Proper 22 Year C 2025: Luke 17:5-10

On Friday, the new Archbishop of Canterbury was announced. The Rt. Rev. Sarah Mullally, the current Bishop of London, will be the first woman to hold the seat since its establishment in 597. I wonder how Bishop Mullally feels. Does she feel completely equal to her new situation? Does she feel a weight in being the first woman to hold the position when there are many within the Anglican Communion who vocally believe that her gender should be disqualifying? Although she was the first woman to serve as  Bishop of London, it would be naive to think there aren’t massive differences between being Bishop of London and Archbishop of Canterbury. Does she feel anxious about what former Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams called the expectation that the archbishop have an opinion on everything?

We all know there’s a difference between theoretically knowing how to do something and being in the driver’s seat. The first time I had to change a flat tire on my car, I knew how to do it: jack the car up, take the hubcap off, take the lugnuts off, take the tire off, put the new tire on, put the lugnuts on, put the car down, tighten the lugnuts, good to go. Sounds so easy. And then I was in the parking lot of my apartment complex. It was cold. I needed to fix that tire. And all of a sudden my theoretical knowledge felt woefully inadequate. But I changed that tire. It wasn’t graceful. It took me much longer than it might have taken someone with more practical experience, but I did it.

In verse 5 of today’s gospel reading, the apostles are feeling the heavy burden of leadership. They have been with Jesus for 12 chapters now - Jesus called the first of his disciples in chapter 5. Since chapter 9, he has been on his way to Jerusalem - this is the last exchange before the final stages of that journey. Even though the apostles never seem to quite understand what is coming in Jerusalem, no matter how many times or how plainly Jesus says it to them, they at least know that they are expected to be in a leadership position at some point in the future.

The way I have usually heard Jesus’ response to the apostles’ plea to “increase our faith” interpreted is as a criticism. As an “oh ye of little faith”. That if only they had this tiny amount of faith, the size of a mustard seed, then they could do it. But they’re lacking.

However, the Greek language has basically two types of “if” clauses: those which express a condition contrary to the fact and those which express a condition according to fact. That is, for me to say “if I were you…”, it implies that I am not, but if I say, “if I was a priest…”, it implies that I am indeed a priest. In the Greek, you don’t need the context or cultural understanding to know which kind it is that you need in English. The conditional clause in verse 6 is of the second type; one could translate it “If you had faith (and you do)”. The same wording is used back in chapter 4 when Jesus is being tempted by the devil. “The devil said to him, ‘If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.’” But it is that second kind of “if” clause that assumes it is true - it could perhaps be translated better as “since”. So the devil isn’t questioning Jesus’ identity, but rather tempting him regarding how he is going to execute the authority he has by nature of his identity.

Jesus’ response to the apostles, then, as that same kind of “if” clause”, is not a reprimand for an absence of faith but an affirmation of the faith they have and an invitation to live out the full possibilities of that faith. From this understanding, we now know that he’s actually saying, “if you had faith the size of a mustard seed, which you do,” or rather, “since you have faith the size of a mustard seed…” Jesus is giving the apostles confidence that even the small faith they already have cancels out words such as “impossible” (a tree being uprooted) and “absurd” (planting a tree in the sea) and puts them in touch with the power of God. In Matthew, faith the size of a mustard seed can cause a mountain to move from one place to another. That Luke has “mulberry tree” instead of “mountain” in no way changes the message. Both are equally ridiculous, to physically move a mountain or to plant a tree in the ocean. But the message in both accounts maintains that faith holds tight to God with whom nothing is impossible, and it is God who empowers the life of discipleship.

What it says to us, when we read this and assume that we aren’t enough, is that we are enough, just as Jesus affirms it with the twelve. We are beautifully and wonderfully made as image bearers of God. And what’s more, we are not alone. We have one another, and we have God. That even when it doesn’t feel like we are enough, faith the size of one of the smallest seeds - a mustard seed whose diameter is a mere 1-2mm- can grow in the way in which only that seed can grow - a mustard tree can reach between 6 and 30 feet tall, and sometimes 20 feet wide.

Back in Luke chapter 13 the Kingdom of God is likened to a mustard seed, where Jesus says, “What is the kingdom of God like? And to what should I compare it? It is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in the garden; it grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air made nests in its branches.” When we look at these two stories from Jesus in Luke, we see how our own faith and the Kingdom of God are inseparable from one another. Our faith, and our work inspired by that faith, are vital for the health and growth of the Kingdom.

When we are thrust into a new position, no matter how much we might have prepared for it, how many interviews we sat through where we told various people how much we know how to do the job, how well prepared our previous positions have made us for this new one, once we’re in the seat, or the cathedra - the official name for a bishop’s chair, as it is with Bishop Mullally, we can feel paralyzed. It can be hard to believe that we are enough. That we have even the faith the size of a mustard seed. I find inspiration from what Bishop Mullally did on Friday afternoon: in her first official visit as archbishop delegate, she visited the food bank at All Saints Church in Canterbury, spending time helping the team and meeting volunteers. Her ministry doesn’t begin with the huge, probably overwhelming, job of working with primates from the entire Anglican Communion. It begins with the people whom Jesus holds closest to his heart. Bishop Mullally, who spent 35 years as a nurse before her ordination in 2001, said, “At every stage of (my) journey, through my nursing career and Christian ministry, I have learned to listen deeply - to people and to God’s genuine prompting - to seek to bring people together to find hope and healing.”

We are invited to do the same - to listen. To people and to God. Because I have never started a new anything where there wasn’t at least one person either offering help or waiting for me to ask them for help. And to remember that we are enough. Whatever we have to give. And if we are out of things to give and need to rest, we can let others give to us. Either way, we are enough. And we are loved. Amen.