Actual mustard seeds, as seen at children’s Sunday school on Sunday at Our Savior’s.
When I was in college, for the first two years, my coach was a very Bill Belichick type character: highly successful, wicked smart about strategy and the game in general, all with the cuddliness of a Brillo pad. He wasn’t the kind of guy you wanted to trifle with, and if you played for him, you’d better do your best.
When someone hit a home run, we weren’t to lose our minds. We were to come out of the dugout calmly and deliver our fist bumps and high fives. Why?
Because we weren’t supposed to act like home runs were rare, or in any way a surprise.
No, we do this all the time. If success is routine, you don’t lose your mind when all you did was your job.
Makes sense now why I, someone with no previous NFL loyalties, so quickly became a Patriots fan, don’t it?
This morning, Jesus essentially says a similar thing at the end of the passage. Those who do what they’re supposed to don’t expect congratulations. So yeah, you guessed it: Jesus’ message is, essentially, Do your job.
There’s also this thing about mustard seeds.
You may be familiar with the parable of the mustard seed. Starts as a little seed, grows into big tree, birds come and nest in its branches, etc. This isn’t that, but it’s close. Jesus really loved mustard seeds for some reason. I think it’s this: there’s a truth about mustard seeds that we miss because, well, we’re not first century Middle Eastern farmers.
Mustard seeds were tiny, which also means that they can hide in a bag of other seeds. Mustard bushes aren’t the kind that farmers planted in nice rows. They’re the kind of seeds that spring up in the middle of a field, tossed out by some unsuspecting sower. It’s not the nice story of a planting that we might imagine — it’s one of a sudden tree that provides shelter — and food, since nearly the entire plant is edible. It’s a sudden tree that gives itself for the life of the world around it.
We often think that it’s our job to have faith. We think that what Jesus is telling us here is that if we could muster even a little faith, we could do great things. DO YOUR JOB – have faith.
But everything gets in the way, and faith becomes hard to muster. More than anything, I wish I could take you all to my seminary for just a day, to go undercover and listen to what pastors sound like when no one else is around. What you would encounter is probably not what you’d expect, unless you’re friends with a lot of pastors. What you’d encounter is a bunch of people just like you: punchy, funny, just a little bit irreverent, and really, no more faithful than you are. What you’d encounter is just a bunch of people who are doing the best they can, and sometimes that’s not enough.
The world feels like it’s in chaos, but then again, it often does, doesn’t it?
I can hardly think of a time when I looked around and thought, “Wow, everything in the world is really peaceful and going really well.” I mean, maybe when I was a child, but then again, I was a child. It’s easy to think the world is a great place when your parents make your food and pay the bills and keep you from doing dumb things.
Once, when I was a teenager, I asked a pastor how to keep faith. You see, I was having a hard time maintaining my faith and my emotions around it. I would get stressed or sad and just not feel the passionate faith that I thought Christians were supposed to feel. To me, faith was something that I was supposed to maintain. This pastor replied, “Are you asking how do you keep the fire from going out? You just don’t let it.”
For him, faith was an act of will. Do your job.
Little did he know, I would grow up and become a pastor and realize that that was terrible advice.
For Lutherans, faith is a gift. It’s not something you feel and it’s not something you earn. It’s something you have even when you really feel like you don’t. It’s a mustard seed that pops up when you least expect it, giving shade and food and new life. When you’re just going about life, like any other sower, doing your job, scattering seed, faith is a little thing you throw out by accident that can start growing unexpectedly.
Faith like a mustard seed: small, sneaky, and prone to start growing just about anywhere.
So what Jesus is saying here, I think, is don’t act like it’s a big deal when you manage to do the right thing or have faith. Faith and good works are acts of God, popping up everywhere, sometimes when we least expect it.
Today we’re celebrating our work on September 8, when we served our neighbors via distributing batteries and cleaning the food pantry. Though it took a lot of planning, in the end, it did feel to me a little like a mustard tree springing up out of nowhere. Though we knew what was going to happen, I think we were also plenty surprised along the way: by the reactions of our neighbors, and by how good we all felt at the end despite a day of hard work.
So let’s continue to get out there and do our jobs. But remember: faith is a gift, and a surprising one at that. So if you’re feeling like you just can’t keep that fire going, let go and let faith surprise you, like a mustard tree that pops up out of nowhere. I think you’ll be glad you did, because God, for one, always gets the job done.
Get it? Amen.