23 OT C ~ "The Holy Mundane" ~ Rev. Richard Eslinger, PhD

Jesus and the disciples continue their journey up to Jerusalem, and up to the Cross. Along the way, the Lord responds to their questions and continues to teach them the mysteries of the kingdom of God. At this point in that conversation along the way, however, things become very difficult for the Twelve. They balk at Jesus’ teaching about forgiveness. The Lord had just instructed them to forgive repentant sinners, even forgive them seven times a day if they are contrite! If such repeating sinners come back to you seven times and say, “I repent,” Jesus continues, “You must forgive.” This instruction, though, does not sit well with the disciples. I mean, it’s acceptable to imagine forgiving such a repentant sinner once or even twice, but certainly with three strikes they should be out! To extend this forgiveness marathon to seven daily doses is really saying that there are really no limits at all. Now I don’t know about you, but this almost endless work of forgiveness is really hard, even impossible. How can Jesus expect such a thing of us?

In response, what the disciples do is to ask Jesus, “Increase our faith.” They are thinking, “We can’t make this happen with the amount of faith we have now, so give us more!” In response, Jesus does not provide them with an Ann Landers kind of solution to their challenge. In fact, it seems that Jesus intentionally befuddles them. He tells them that if they had faith the size of a mustard seed, they could say to a mulberry tree, “Be uprooted and planted in the sea,” and it would obey you.”

Two observations about Jesus’ words: First, the Greek here comes across as snarky rather than comforting. Jesus is peeved at the disciples and this not-at-all

helpful little image reflects his mood. Second, Jesus is really telling the Twelve that their entire request is misdirected. Faith is not subject to this kind of quantitative analysis. Their logic is based on a false understanding of faith, as if we could determine that some hard task requires Faith “times 3,” or an even more difficult challenge needs the faith quotient raised to “times 10.” Remember when you were in Middle School? If you came home with your report card showing one grade of 70, mother or father would reply about needing that grade to be raised to get into college. The needed work was clear—raise the grade in that subject!

But faith is not in the same category as math or science. In fact, faith is not something we can quantify. One commentator puts it this way: The point of Jesus’ metaphor…is not to quantify faith as much as to affirm its power. God works through a modicum of faith to empower us to forgive even the most

annoyingly repetitive sinners. 1 Clearly Jesus is aiming at something other than the disciples’ “quantity of faith” notion. If only a mustard seed-size faith can serve to keep us faithful in forgiveness, there must be some other way to frame the question.

Perhaps rather frustrated, Jesus offers another way to frame the matter. He shifts the focus in the conversation from quantitative speculations about faith to the on-going matter of faithfulness, of discipleship. This change in perspective is evoked as Jesus provides a metaphor about faithfulness. In a small household, a master and his servant labor together out in the field. When the sun sets, they both come into the house. Jesus asks, “Who among you would say to your servant, “Come here immediately and recline at table”? No, the servant would provide food and drink for the master instead, and only when the master has eaten would the servant then also eat and drink. The servant has only done that which was commanded.

Then the Lord turns the metaphor toward the Twelve: “So should it be with you. When you have done all that you have been commanded, say, ‘We are unworthy servants, we have done only that what we ought to have done.’” The words bore into the hearing of the Twelve: “Done what we have been commanded,” unworthy servants,” “done what we ought to have done.” Now, the issue has

shifted entirely! Instead of the disciples asking for quantitative increases in faith, they are called to live their lives as humble servants whose faithfulness abides all their days.

Of course, such self-assessment of our being unworthy servants may grate upon us at times, but it is at the heart of the gospel. We come to the Holy Meal as sinners, beloved by God, approaching the Table with humility and confession. At the Eucharist, we pray, Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof,

but only say the word and my soul shall be healed. It is, then, a “mustard seed” faith that may have brought us to the Holy Eucharist, but the next words we hear are “The Body of Christ.” We are graced with the presence of our Lord as we are

welcomed to the Feast of Joy. Unworthy servants, but with souls healed and forgiven.

Unworthy servants, but invited to come to the Table to dine as honored guests. Unworthy servants, but strengthened and equipped for our work in the world. Gathered as Christ’s body and sent as the people of God. How much faith is needed for this all? The Spirit will provide.

That is enough to be faithful.

From this point of view, discipleship involves mostly caring for others and for the

creation. The way of such servants is reflected in love of God and devotion to a calling of humility and prayer. They are “the great Catholic saints of the mundane.” 2 To be sure, there are saints whose vocations involve great and noble causes, powerful occasions of conflict, and even battle. But those saintly ones are few in comparison to the saints of the mundane. We give thanks for the vocation of St. Francis and St. Clare, and for the lesser know saints like Andre of Montreal who healed the sick while serving as a porter for his community for forty years.

But most centrally, now, just a few days after her Feast Day on October 1 st , we raise special honor to St. Theresa of Lisieux. Living only twenty-four years, by virtue of her zeal for Christ and devotion to him and the Blessed Virgin Mary, Theresa was beatified only fifty-two years after her birth. At her Carmelite monastery, she delighted in the gardens and spoke of herself as “a little flower.” In her autobiography, “Story of a Soul,” she wrote, “What matters in life is not great deeds, but great love.” In “Story of the Soul,” the word “love” far outnumbers any

other—love for God, our immersion in God’s love for us, and our abiding love for others. A further favored word for Theresa is “joy.” Even in times of the dark night of the soul or when terminal illness struck, she witnessed to God’s love in Christ and was raised to joy. Her last words were “My God, I love You!” 3 Her faith was this, "I will spend my heaven doing good on earth.”

Among the saints of the holy mundane, Theresa rises to exceptional heights as she continues to inspire faithful Christians, and her miracles continue to bless us. But what is most astonishing is that humble service can always be an icon for the unworthy but sainted followers of Christ. We can always love.

Gathered here this day to hear God’s Word and to join in the actions of the Holy Meal, we discover that it may not be an increase in faith which is most needed. Rather, knowing ourselves as humble servants, in Christ we may become fruitful souls whose love shines brightly! This day, we can do what we ought to do, and go about our life together in great love and devotion to our Triune God. As with the little flower” St. Therese, love and joy abound!

Amen.

1 Ira Brent Driggers, “Commentary on Luke 17:5-10,” Working Preacher, October 6, 2019, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-27-

3 commentary-on-luke-175-10-4.

2 Ibid.

3 Collin Williams, “The Little Flower of Jesus: The Life and Legacy of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux,” The Gordon Review, January 8, 2024, https://thegordonreview.com/2024/01/08/the-little-flower-of-jesus-the-

life-and-legacy-of-saint-therese-of-lisieux/.