2 Timothy 1.1-14
Luke 17.1-10
Sunday 5 October 2025
©Suzanne Grimmett
“Increase our faith!”
This is a heartfelt appeal in the middle of a Gospel which seems to be, on first hearing, a jumble of difficult sayings about millstones around necks, repeated sinning and multiplied forgiveness, uprooting mulberry trees and becoming worthless slaves.
Where to begin, and which bits to leave out? There is potential in these metaphors to do great harm if we do not attend to dynamics of power. These texts have been abused; such as when the metaphor of worthless slaves is invoked as a tool to promote meek acquiescence in the face of oppression…or when those in abusive relationships are told to forgive over and again in the face of repeated violence. Jesus’ admonition not to cause little ones to stumble might be recalled here before we leap to any interpretations that serve the powerful.
Perhaps if the starting point was the disciples feeling a need for more faith in the light of their struggles and the struggles of their people, we will at least be beginning at a point we understand. In the face of the enormity of the world’s problems and community needs as well as our private struggles, we too may ask of God, “Increase our faith!”
But what is faith, and what is it for? I think we may look to the epistle for a hint before we begin exploring the rest of those Gospel metaphors. The writer tells Timothy, “I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you.” So from the outset, we have a sense of there being a communal and familial aspect to this thing called faith- it is not an isolated or individualistic experience. The writer then goes on to exhort Timothy to rekindle this gift, “For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but of power and of love and self-discipline.”
So we have this paradox that faith is both a free gift that we do nothing to create and yet something we strive to rekindle through courage, love and self-discipline. Jesus’ response to the appeal of the disciples seems to suggest something more miraculous- faith that can uproot trees and be planted in the sea! Yet if we had that kind of supernatural power, then there surely would not be a need for qualities like courage and self-discipline. Faith is needed as we look at the calamities of the world around us; international conflicts, violent oppression of peoples, poverty, the inequitable distribution of resources, the devastation of ecosystems and climate change. Despite such a despairing catalogue, people of faith are called to not be blindly optimistic but to courageously continue to forge a counter story that affirms we can make a difference for good. Perhaps that this counter narrative of love and dignity continues to be lived and proclaimed in so many ways across the world is indeed a miracle in the order of a tree being uprooted and planted into the sea. Perhaps we might take a moment to step back and see the everyday miracles that are all around us – such as the appointment of a woman to be the new Archbishop of Canterbury! These are moments that have emerged from faith- faith in God and the power of love, faith in humanity’s ability to do good, and faith in the ongoing work of the Spirit to transform the world into the likeness of God’s dream of peace and justice for all creation.
When apartheid ended in South Africa in the early 1990s and groups formed around planning for the future, there was a joke told that went something like this;
Faced with our country’s overwhelming problems, we have only two options; a practical option and a miraculous option. The practical option would be for all of us to get down on our knees and pray for a band of angels to come down from heaven and solve our problems for us. The miraculous option would be for us to talk and work together and to find a way forward together. [1]
The true miracles are not about overcoming natural laws but about the victory of the human spirit motivated by God’s Spirit of love and justice. In South Africa there have been both magnificent triumphs and struggles that continue, but there remains the witness to the world of the truly miraculous within the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. This commission, authorised by Nelson Mandela and chaired by Archbishop Desmond Tutu, invited victims to tell their stories, sharing accounts of gross human rights violations, but intentionally choosing to pursue forgiveness over prosecution, and reparation over retaliation.
Perhaps the greatest miracle of all is a love that can forgive.
Jesus wants to make it clear just how important forgiveness is by giving the challenging example of forgiving seven times a day- seven being the number of wholeness and of rest, pointing to the importance of forgiveness to human flourishing. Forgiveness is too important to lose its central place in Christian understanding- but it is also too important to allow it to be abused or misused. Desmond Tutu, as one who had the life experience to be allowed to speak with moral authority in this area, makes some important clarifications;
Forgiveness does not relieve someone of responsibility for what they have done. Forgiveness does not erase accountability. It is not about turning a blind eye or even turning the other cheek. It is not about letting someone off the hook or saying it is okay to do something monstrous. Forgiveness is simply about understanding that every one of us is both inherently good and inherently flawed. Within every hopeless situation and every seemingly hopeless person lies the possibility of transformation.[2]
Of course, the great hope of faith is that within each of us lies the possibility of transformation- that God’s grace is big enough for anything we have thought, said or done or not done, and that there is nothing that could make God love us less and no superhuman feat of piety that could make God love us more. And so, when we hear Jesus talk about not expecting thanks for simply doing what we ought to have done, we need to hear it against this backdrop of grace. The language of slavery is justifiably offensive to our modern ears, but we need to remember that the point of this story is not the slavery. When Jesus says, “Who among you would say to your slave…come here at once and take your place at the table?” he is using an example from the context of the times. It does not completely take away its offense, but it is important to see that the point of the story is about doing something that is not extraordinary but rather is a normal response. We do not draw attention to ourselves, expecting great praise for our acts of forgiveness because they flow naturally from the forgiveness which has already been given us. This is the point of the line in the prayer our Lord taught us, “Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.” They are two sides of the one coin, and the one causes or even necessitates the other.
To say it is natural, however, does not mean it is easy. To forgive still requires every bit of that power, and love and self-discipline of which the letter to Timothy speaks. We should not forget that Jesus came amongst us choosing the role of a servant, a living witness to a life which laid down all claim to power over so that divine love could be witnessed all the way to the cross.
I think we sometimes forget just how difficult Christianity really is. I know I find I can forget to commit myself daily to the extreme challenge of it, and neglect to seek God in all of the every day moments of my every days. It is oh, so easy to let judgemental thoughts run away with us, or unkind habits of speech become commonplace. It is even easier to neglect the great gift of our own forgiveness and instead nurse simmering resentments so that they blossom into hatred or contempt toward others. Having people we can cheerfully despise and can enjoy complaining about with our friends is so much easier than attempting that incredibly inconvenient command of the rabbi from Nazareth to love our enemies.
To have the kind of courage instead that would acknowledge our weakness and surrender it all to God is to receive the gift of faith. Such faith can willingly lay down the need to be right, the need to be in control, the need to dominate. Such faith believes that ultimately love will win and the powers that would deface humanity and degrade the earth will not have the last word. Such faith is the gift that will set us free, carrying within it the tiny mustard seed of hope for a fragile planet and a broken humanity. May we rekindle the gift of God within us.
+Amen
[1] Adam Kahane, Transformative Scenario Planning: Working Together to Change the Future, Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 2012
[2] Desmond Tutu, The Book of Forgiving: The Fourfold Path for Healing Ourselves and Our World