Memorial of St. Dominic, Priest
The story before us today from the Book of Matthew appears, on the face of it, to be simple enough. It goes like this: The disciples tried but were unable to cure a boy afflicted by a demon. So, the boy’s father begged Jesus to cure him, which Jesus did. When the disciples asked Jesus why they were unable to heal the boy, Jesus told them that they had too little faith. Further, he instructed them that if their faith were even as tiny as a mustard seed, then they would have been able not only to heal the boy but also to perform miracles of all sorts. Including moving mountains with just a command!
Simple, perhaps. But depressing! If I apply Jesus’ reasoning to my own life, then I have to admit that I have too little faith. I know this because I know that no matter how hard I pray about it or think about it or how often or loud I command it, no mountain is going to move so much as an inch at my behest! So, there it is. I have too little faith.
But is that simple read the best read? My Bible commentary, thankfully, says no. The problem with my interpretation is that I am too focused on myself to understand what Jesus is trying to teach me. In particular, the commentary asks readers to notice that in this passage Jesus expresses his frustrations about the lack of faith not just among the disciples but, also, among their whole generation. And that’s a crucial point.
According to my commentary, the point of this story is not that Jesus performs eye-popping miracles. The point, rather, is about what it means that Jesus entered into this deeply flawed existence of ours (so flawed that it even includes Satanic forces, like demons) to show us another Kingdom and another way.
In the Kingdom of God that Jesus invites us to inhabit, suffering is seen and acknowledged, compassion is felt, healing is given. More to the point, Jesus challenges us to live into that Kingdom even as we live in this flawed one. Thus, he calls all of his followers to see, to feel, to heal.
That all sounds good. But is it realistic? Can I bear to see the human (and other) suffering in this world? Do I have the resilience to endure how that makes me feel? And how can I, given how terribly limited I am, possibly heal any of that suffering?
How would Jesus answer me? If the commentary has it right, he’d more than likely say something like, “Sue! You are asking the wrong questions! This is not just about you. It can’t be just about you, because you’re right. You’re not up to it! Not by yourself, anyway. The problems, failures, and sufferings of this flawed world are shared in common and cannot be resolved by any single human. So, if it seems impossible, that’s because it is . . . without faith.”
To have faith is, among other things, to let the God who is with us to enable us to see, feel, and heal. But we can’t do this alone. And that’s not only because we lack the power to do it alone but also because we are so prone to getting it wrong! And, when we do, we often make things worse. We need God with us not only to make it possible for us to see, to feel, and to heal but also to correct us when we get it wrong so that we might set things right.
Lord Jesus, God with us, may we embrace, with profound humility, your presence in our world; your power to enable us to do seemingly impossible things together; and your call that we endeavor to see, to feel, and to heal even as our fallen culture tempts us to blindness, apathy, and paralysis. With your help, Oh Lord, let us bring forth the Kingdom!
—Susan Trollinger