Luke 13.18-21 11 October 2009
“WHEN LITTLE IS ENOUGH”
I wasn’t much more than a toddler the day I sat in the sunshine, bouncing on the knee of my great-grandfather Keller. But I recall that day and remember his face. His deep-set German eyes had a coal-like intensity undiminished by the years. He spent his life walking behind a team of horses, plowing open the earth’s crust.
I guess we can’t blame him if he was a little crusty himself. He seldom spoke, but I am told when he did, people moved quickly and quietly. When things were less than they should have been, his eyes flashed. He was a no-nonsense guy.
For me, however, sunshine and not storms is what I recall radiating from grandpa Keller’s face. There is a reason for this. For the family figured out the best way to soften up grandpa was to put a drooling, cow-eyed grandchild on his lap. We babies helped grandpa accept and enjoy life as it was, imperfect and incomplete. When adults couldn’t sweeten his mood, we little ones were more than enough.
I begin here today not to share my long German family-farming tree. I begin here because his is the face of our Christian faith. Or rather, both of these faces, the stern and the sweet, become apparent as we grasp what Jesus expects from us.
In Hebrews chapter 4, we glimpse God’s serious, demanding face. It’s unnerving. Verse 12, “The word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow.” Wow! This God is serious about taking us apart and putting us back together according to God’s idea of what it means to be human. That is scary…and exciting. Verse 13: “And before God no creature is hidden, but all are naked and laid bare.” Sounds like Grandpa Keller’s piercing gaze. Verse 14, Jesus is our “great high priest”. He is our confessor, not a buddy chum telling us to do whatever makes us feel good.
That stern grandfather face of our faith expects a lot. “Forgive seventy times seven …Pick up your cross and follow me…Be perfect, even as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Whoa! This God actually seeks our transformation. This God in Christ isn’t merely some absent-minded great uncle saying, ‘yeah, ok, whatever’.
Of course, the noble goals embodied in such lofty expectations are the very thing that makes our faith great. Still, we see that sober face and we backpedal a little.
So we need to hear of the soothing, reassuring face of a grandpa with little ones, right as rain and warm as sunshine, embracing and favoring us, whoever we are. We don’t have to look far to see this face either. For me, it is also Jesus’ face. “Come unto me you who are burdened, and I will give you rest…I have not come into the world to condemn, but to save the world…I do not call you servants but friends.” Here Jesus’ face beams and it warms our heart. Here Christ attracts us. “I want to know more about this man Jesus, the life he offers, the hope he gives.”
It’s this winsome, inviting face of God in Christ we see in this morning’s parables. The reign of God is like the grain of a mustard seed. By now we’ve all heard of how tiny a mustard seed is. That seed is as small as a mustard shrub is large. The smallest seed gives rise to an ample bush, sturdy enough for birds to nest.
And the second parable, the reign of God is like the yeast in the bread recipe. Yeast is the tiniest ingredient, compared with flour, salt, sugar, water, and oil. But with no yeast the small, hard dough ball won’t rise up into light, golden perfection.
What is Jesus getting at? Sometimes a little is enough. When it comes to faith, when it comes to making a difference in the God-movement Jesus inaugurated, having just a little faith is all he asks of us. If we can just summon a tiny faith, God will multiply the results. Don’t worry about big results. That’s God’s job. Just bring a little faith. Focus on the faith you have, not the doubts holding you back.
Of course, most of us worry our faith is so small it could never make a difference. “I could never invite someone to worship at DUC. What if they ask me about the Bible? I don’t know it so well. What if they ask me about Jesus? I might not miss something important.” We end up doing nothing rather than risking what faith we have. The truth is, even if you don’t know the Bible or lack the words to say who Jesus is to you, we have plenty of others here who can do that. Just invite them!
Friends, the good news today is to be useful to God, we need not have the faith of all the prophets and apostles, matriarchs and martyrs combined. All we need to have is what faith we have now. And frankly that is more than enough for God.
But rather than try to explain that, let me tell some stories of what that looks like.
Walter Wangerin tells the boyhood story of having a dreadful case of poison ivy. Angry red dots spread over him, into his hair, nostrils, on the back of his hands. He was desperate with itching. And, of course, itching only spreads this pox. So he kept still. He even had his brother tie his hands to the bedposts. But it was no good. He would only awaken on fire, lose control, and lay into it with vengeance.
His mother made a lather of Fels Naptha and applied it liberally to him. He ended up mummified in a cast of the soap. But Wangerin’s every move was taunted by a thousand cruel dots. One afternoon his father stopped in after work. Wangerin couldn’t come to the dinner table. His father thought they might have a nice talk. But the lad was unable to look his father in the eye. He was at his breaking point.
For one poison ivy dot wouldn’t relent. It was incorrigible, constant and merciless. The itch tormented him in the worst possible way, and—how shall I say this?—in worst possible place. This was too much. Enough of being brave. Wangerin started to cry silently. The tears pooled in his ear. He felt like his life was ending.
Wangerin heard a muffled, strangled sound to his left. His father had risen and looked full of anguish. He pivoted, bolted and issued a war cry, “Calamine lotion!” Now, Wangerin knew that calamine lotion was practically useless. They’d tried it.
But when his father appeared in the doorway with a giant bottle of the stuff; when his father knelt beside him, uncovered him and gently rubbed it on him; when he saw his father’s eyes dampened with tears, the boy glimpsed with wonder the image of his own suffering in his father. It was their pain that had catapulted his dad off to the drug store for that big bottle flowing with pink. When Wangerin saw and felt that first miracle, a second one followed. The poison ivy ceased to itch.
Of course, that wasn’t about calamine lotion. That was about his father’s love. At times we reach our breaking point. We feel like our faith is gone. We have nothing left to give. We are frustrated, defeated, and even despairing. But do you know what? As we summon and give what little we do have with all of ourselves, it’s more than enough. Mother Teresa once said, most of us don’t get to do great things, only small things greatly. Most times just a little faith is more than enough.
Do yourself a favor and remember that as you feel tested and fading. Yes, God expects a lot from us in high standards and ongoing transformation. We find that forbidding, because we’re already overmatched by life. But do not fail to see also this comforting and encouraging face of God, reminding us that we have already been given everything we need to be what Paul called “more than conquerors.”
Sometimes little is more than enough. Larry Phillips tells of taking his children to a restaurant one evening. His six year old asked if he could say grace. As they bowed heads, unselfconsciously, the child loudly prayed, “God is great. God is good. Thank you for the food. I would thank you even more if we got ice cream for dessert. And liberty and justice for all! Amen.” You can imagine that drew snickers from diners in the adjacent booths. One woman remarked, “That’s what’s wrong with this country. Kids don’t even know how to pray. Asking for ice cream! Why, I never!” Hearing this, the six year old burst into tears, “Did I do it wrong? Is God mad at me?” Having our prayers belittled would shake any adult.
Of course, Philips held his son and assured him he’d done a terrific job. God was most certainly not mad at him. An elderly gentleman stopped and winked at the boy. He said he knew God thought it was a great prayer. “Really?” said the boy. Then the fellow leaned down and said in a theatrical whisper, “Too bad that lady never thought to ask God for ice cream. A little ice cream is good for the soul.’
My teacher, Fr. Henri Nouwen, said it’s not frivolity, but spiritual maturity to pray for little things that matter to us. A sore throat. The right words to say. Ice cream. Sometimes we become so full of ourselves we forget about the little things. Jesus said as we are found faithful in little things, we’ll be faithful in great things.
Anyway, Phillips naturally bought his kids ice cream for dessert that evening. The boy stared at his for a moment, then offered a small but memorable gesture. He wordlessly picked up his sundae, walked over and placed it in front of the wo-man. With a big smile, he told her, “Here, this is for you. Ice cream is good for the soul sometimes. And my soul is good already.” Such a tiny faith but so disarming!
Phillips reflects, “Of all my children, (that son) is by far my most trying. The quick-est to anger, the first one to break something, and the last one to do as he's told.” None of it matters though. Because sometimes a little faith is enough to redeem.
When we feel buried under the demands of the world, and we come here to learn God expects even more from us, this is the good news we need to hear. No, we are not going to lose sight of the Cross. But we need to be fed from this fishes-and-loaves, sometimes a little is more than enough, side of the Gospel. After all, if God can bring goodness out of evil, God can bring greatness out of littleness. Trust that friends, and you’ll have power at your disposal you never dreamed of. Amen.
