Zacchaeus wasn’t a very tall man, barely standing five feet tall with his shoes off and he was probably one of the least popular men in Jericho, because he was the head tax-collector in that district for the Roman occupying forces and he’d made a huge profit out of it.
He was the richest man in town, as well as being the shortest.
 
Last week, I used the lectionary reading from Luke 18 - the passage about the Pharisee and the tax collector praying in the temple.
We certainly got the idea from that reading, that tax collectors were pretty despicable characters and not at all popular with the Jewish people.
 
Still, when word got around that Jesus would soon be passing through his town, Zacchaeus climbed up a sycamore tree so that he could see something more than just the backs of other people's heads.
And that's precisely where he was when Jesus spotted him.
 
And in the words of that recent TV game show, Jesus called out, “Zacchaeus, come on down!”, adding “I'm going to eat at your house tonight.”
 
Well, the reaction from the people was not exactly the thunderous applause that the game show audience respond with.
The people nearby were actually amazed and, I think, a little horrified.
It was beyond belief to think that Jesus would have had better sense than to invite himself into the house of a man whom nobody else would touch with a ten-foot barge pole.
 
But Jesus knew exactly what he was doing.
He’d spent his life perfecting the art of mixing with the marginalised people of the land.
Zacchaeus, meanwhile, was so taken aback by the honour of hosting Jesus for dinner, that before he had a chance to change his mind, he blurted out a promise to not only turn over 50% of his holdings to the poor, but to also pay back four times the cash he'd extorted from anyone else.
 
Why this sudden change of heart?
What had turned this money-grabbing shylock into a philanthropist?

It all came down to the fact that when he came into a relationship with Jesus, something remarkable happened.
Jesus set him free from the stunted, distorted self-image that had corrupted his life.
Jesus set Zacchaeus free to be his true self - as one made in the likeness of God - a creature made for loving, for giving, for sharing.
 
Jesus could easily have seen in Zacchaeus what everyone else did:  a greedy, ruthless, despicable traitor who collected taxes for the Roman occupation forces. 
But Jesus saw a lot more in him.
 
He knew that there was a child of Abraham locked away in Zacchaeus and Jesus wanted to release it.
In other words, Jesus acknowledged him as a Jew and gave him the benefit of the doubt, so that he could turn his current life around.  We’ll never know the details of what went on between Jesus and the tax collector over that meal, but we do know the result.
Zacchaeus started to recover his lost inner beauty and bearing fruits to prove it. He said:
“Half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor, and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much”.
 
To which Jesus replied:  “Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham.”
 
Zacchaeus was looking for God, but God had already found him.
Knowledge had happened - and revelation had taken place. 
It’s common today for people to tell us that “knowledge is power”, but this was a personal kind of knowledge that Zacchaeus now embraced - it was the ultimate power. 
It’s a power which Christ still has: to reveal God to us and to show us our own true nature.
 
So, what is it that you see in the bathroom mirror, first thing in the morning? 
Do you just see a human life form with a complex plumbing system? 
A pile of beige or brown coloured cells? 
A mass that consists mostly of water? 
Maybe the aftermath of your last 500 takeaway meals? 
A chance fragment of consciousness in an unconscious universe?
These are all terms that have been variously used to describe us - people.
 
Or do you see something which God has revealed and redeemed through Christ Jesus: a child of Abraham, or better still: a child of God and a sister, or brother, of Christ.
 
There’s something truly divine about you; something infinitely precious and glorious.
That’s a part of the revelation of which we are stewards.
The other part of that revelation is that God, the Awesome First Person, far more glorious than all the billions of suns and stars in the universe, is tirelessly seeking your self-rehabilitation.
To God, you are so priceless, that no trouble is too much for him in trying to achieve your reclamation!
 
Out in the community, there may well be someone who’s thinking: “In my case, you’ve got it all wrong.
There’s nothing precious about me.  If you knew my ugly thoughts and feelings; if you knew about my broken promises and sullied ideals; if you knew my lack of prayer and lack of faith; if you knew about my simmering resentments and lusts; if you only knew the real me, you wouldn’t stand up there and say that I’m precious.”
 
The real you isn’t all about the sins and follies of your life.
God already knows all about them, and yet he loves and treasures you, all the same.  
Our faith in each person’s preciousness isn’t based on observation, or investigation; it’s based on revelation. 
 
That is, your true identity flows from God; from that immense, beautiful, throbbing Spirit who is within, and behind, all creation, and whom Christ Jesus revealed in his life and death and resurrection.
 
There may come a time when you might want to seek me out and tell me a sad story about your failings.
As your Pastor, I’ll listen carefully and compassionately and recognise the pain in your heart.
I’ll attempt to assist you. 
But I will draw the line at one thing: I’ll never accept that you are just a ‘waste of space’.
You may have failed your Lord a million times, but that doesn’t alter God’s belief in you and his eternal love for you.
 
As we read in our bibles and ask for help, God is willing to wipe the slate clean and let us start all over again.
 
Even the Apostle Paul, when writing to the fledgling church in Thessaloniki, reminded the congregation that they weren’t judged by the way other people viewed them, but by their steadfastness and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.
 
So, I encourage you to look inside yourself!
Affirm what you are in God’s eyes and lift up your head.
Reach forwards towards that day when Christ will complete his work of grace in you, and you shall recognise that you have actually become the glorious being that you are in God’s eyes!
 
This day salvation has come to this house; for we also are children of Abraham - that’s us.
So let’s go out and live our lives - just for God - from this time on!  
 
Blessings…………..Pastor Rick

​Evidently, going to church can be a tricky business.
One person might enter this sanctuary thinking: “I feel good here. I’m doing okay, God.  Thank you that I have not fallen in temptation like some others I know. Bless me that I may keep up the good work.”
 
Another person might slip into this place thinking: “I’ve got no right to be here, God. I’ve really screwed up and made a mess of my life. If you can, God, have pity on me.”
 
According to Jesus, the first person would probably leave this church at odds with God, while the second one could well leave very much okay with God.
 
Here’s another bit of sharp discomforting word from the Parable Man! Jesus just could not help himself, could he?   He keeps upsetting our ideas of what is appropriate or inappropriate, fair or unfair, but he continually throws us back into the arms of God’s free gift of grace.
  
Among the four Gospel compilers, I find Luke especially enthusiastic about this aspect of Christ.
The familiar benediction which commences: “the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ” may not have originated with Luke, but the theme is certainly dear to his heart.
 
His Gospel is about some great news for the world – “Grace”.
Providing the unbuyable, unpredictable, uncalculated, seemingly indiscriminate, generosity of God - to even the most despicable of characters.
 
But don’t gloss over this fact; I did just say: “despicable characters.”  
In this parable, the tax collector is not painted as a really nice guy, in spite of his profession.
 
By the way, our son-in-law, Tim, used to work for the ATO until just recently, so I suppose he could have been called a modern day “tax collector”, but it’s actually considered an honest profession these days.
 
In those days, such people were rogues, despicable people.
Our common use of the word “tax collectors” as those whom Jesus welcomed, must not blunt the fact that they were usually traitors; “low lifes”, who collected taxes for the occupying army. 
These men were hated for good reason, as they were the “bag men” for Rome.
With the broad swords of the Roman military behind them, they enforced the payment of tolls, even from the poorest of the poor.
And they also made an extortionate profit from the business, on the side.
 
So, the tax man at the back of the Temple was probably one of these low-life’s – a real blood sucking creep.
I imagine him as very plump, well dressed and wearing lots of expensive jewellery.
 
On the other hand, the Pharisee was probably a truly good man. 
I imagine him as being lean - from living with moderation and fasting often. 
He’s trying desperately hard to do the right thing.
The only obligatory fast for a good Jew was once a year on the Day of Atonement, but this chap is voluntarily doing it twice a week.
What’s more, he doesn’t merely give a tenth of his income to the temple, he gives a tenth of the cost of anything he buys; just in case the shop keeper doesn’t tithe with his income.
 
This is not one of those religious guys who gets legalistic and meticulously pays attention to legal requirement, but doesn’t do a thing more.
This man is generous, and we would probably love to have him as a member of any church, wouldn’t we?
 
Well, where does the Pharisee go wrong, and where does the tax collector get it right?
 
To start with, notice the Pharisee prayed about himself – no mention of God.
He’s airing his goodness before God, rather than communing with God.
He’s flaunting his virtues, instead of falling down in awe before such pure beauty and holy love.
 
Then things get worse.
Where the Pharisee goes totally wrong is when he attempts to justify himself by making comparisons with others.
“I thank you God that I am not like everyone else,” he says, in an attempt to find his soul’s security by establishing his credentials as compared with the poor credentials of extortionists, the unjust, and adulterers.
 
You may have heard a similar comment from someone watching the news or reading a paper.
They comment on an item about some respectable person who has been caught breaking the law:
“I may not be a saint, but at least I’m not like that fellow!”
 
Or the worldly person, who plays the self-justification game this way:
“I know I don’t go to church very often, but at least I’m not a hypocrite like some of them!”
 
In the presence of God, we’re not like siblings, jealous of each other and hoping to buy more parental love by being better than our sisters and brothers. 
We don’t earn good points that way, nor do we earn extra vouchers by bad-mouthing others.
 
Our only justification for being in the presence of God comes down to this: God’s unconditional love for us.
We’re here because God wants us here.
 
The tax collector was a despicable man, but he knew he was and looked for nothing but the mercy of God.
He knew he had no right to be in the Temple and he was aware that any comparison with others would leave him in more debt. 
The only way he was going to feel okay was if God granted it to him.
And God did – as a free gift - gratis! 
 
Grace is what this Gospel message is fundamentally about.
 
Self-vindication can lead to a terrible poverty, but God’s love can restore us.
 
It’s a tragedy that those who try to justify themselves leave no room to receive grace.
Morally, they may be living exemplary lives; yet their well-stocked, neatly packed, self-justifications leave no hole into which the grace of God can take hold.
 
They go home unpardoned - not because God withholds grace, but because they’re not ready to receive it.
If you’re full of yourself, there’s not much room for God.
 
On the other hand, all kinds of sinners who’ve given up hopes of self-vindication, are able to find grace, mercy and peace, as they have a hunger, a gnawing emptiness in their souls, a room for grace to enter in and work its miracle.
 
I have one final comment - a sting in the tail - if you like.
 
There is a little, demonic trap lurking close by after we’ve heard this parable.
It’s the temptation for each of us to think: “Thank God I’m not like that Pharisee.”      Oops.
 
Don’t be like him – so full of yourself that you can’t come openly to God and gratefully accept his gift of grace.
Be thankful for all the gifts God has provided for you and tell it to him regularly – in your prayers.
 
Blessings…………..Pastor Rick

​Many of us might have had an experience like the persistent widow in the Gospel reading from Luke.
If you have ever had to deal with an insurance company or a government agency, or in some cases even hospitals, or the justice system, you might know how it feels to wonder if anyone is listening or responding to your needs.
 
We’ve probably all experienced the frustrations of dealing with bureaucracy, but sometimes, when our needs are most serious, we can experience these feelings of being unheard in the middle of an emotional or desperate situation – and that can be devastating.
 
We can even feel like Sisyphus in the famous myth: struggling to lift a heavy weight up a tall mountain.
But just when we think we’ve reached the top, it rolls all the way back down and we’re forced to start at the beginning again.
 
More often than not, it is our persistence, our unwillingness to let things slide, or our unwillingness to lose hope, that eventually leads to success.
 
Jesus told his disciples to always pray and to never give up.
The teaching in this parable on prayer follows directly on Jesus' teaching on the coming of the Son of Man in Ch 17.
Indeed, verse 8 of this parable ends with exactly that theme.
In verse 1 we read a reminder to the disciples who may be undergoing a struggle, just prior to the return of the Son of Man, not to give up hope, but to keep praying.
 
Luke reveals the point of the parable in advance: "that they should always pray and not give up".
"Always" in Greek means "at all times" and Jesus is teaching us to continually pray, again and again.
 
Some might say that once you've asked God for something, it displays lack of faith to ask for it again, but
Jesus teaches clearly that we are to continue to pray until we receive the answer.
The act of continuing to pray is not a sign of little faith, but of persistent faith.
 
We know that widows had a difficult time in early Palestine.
Normally, the wife of a deceased man had no legal right to inherit her husband's estate, so that when he died, she couldn't take for granted that she could continue living in his house.
 
If they had no children, the estate reverted to her husband's male relatives on his father's side -- his brothers, his father's brothers, and then the nearest family kinsman.
If she had grown-up children, things would be easier; they would be able to take care of her.
But a widow with small children had a particularly difficult time.
 
In our story this week, we don't know how the widow was being cheated, but her judge certainly appeared to be on her opponent's side.
She didn't have money for lawyers, as she was probably only holding on by a thread.
But there is one thing we know about her -- she didn't take "no" for an answer.
She was a squeaky door demanding oil, and the judge decided to grant her what she was due just to get rid of her.
 
Perhaps there wasn't a real widow, nor a real judge, but the listeners to the story Jesus told would have met widows like her and had experience with judges like him.
In the audience you would have seen people nodding their heads, because they'd met people like that, so the story was true-to-life for them.
 
The judge was only concerned with himself - his own opinions, his own comfort, his own income.
In verse 6, Jesus calls him "unjust" and though it isn't explicit, there was probably a reason that the judge wouldn't give the widow justice – most likely it had to do with money.
It is possible that the judge was either taking bribes to fatten his purse, or he had an "arrangement" with a wealthy citizen who stood to lose if the widow won her case.
The judge was arrogant, self-absorbed, and unjust, a powerful man facing down one of the weakest members of society - a widow.
 
Then, in his parable, Jesus substitutes God and his chosen ones, in the place of the unjust judge and the widow.
Note that he wasn’t saying that God is unjust - no, and that's just the point.
Jesus points out that if an unjust, selfish judge will see that justice is done in response to persistent requests, how much more will the God of Israel bring justice to his own beloved people, who pray constantly for relief.
 
It's easy for people in situations like these to get discouraged, even disappointed.
When the church was young, the new followers of Christ were sure that they would see his return in their lifetime. However, with 2,000 years of hindsight, we now know better.
If you carefully read the words Jesus spoke to his disciples, you’ll see that his message is consistent:
Stay spiritually awake and be ready, for I come in an hour that you do not expect.
When we try to put his Second Coming on a calendar, we only get disappointed - and we're not the only ones.
 
In the latter part of the First Century, Peter wrote:
"First of all, you must understand that in the last days scoffers will come, following their own evil desires.
They will say, "Where is this 'coming' he promised? Ever since our fathers died, everything goes on as it has since the beginning of creation....”
"But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything in it will be laid bare." (2 Peter 3:3-4, 8-10)
 
When Jesus comes again, it will be at the right time, not at our time or our preference, but God's.
 
Jesus told a parable of persistence, of a widow - weak in the world's estimation - who won a victory because she didn't give up hope, she didn't give up her plea - and finally she won the day.
But what about you and me?
Do we sometimes become so worn down and discouraged by our lives that we stop praying, stop hoping, stop expecting God to intervene.
Will we become like religious, church-going unbelievers, who have given up expecting an answer, whose prayers are just going through the motions?
 
Jesus told this story to his disciples, and to us, so that we might be encouraged and not become discouraged.
 
None of us are weaker than the widow and none of us are facing longer odds than she was.
But because of her persistence and faith, even the unjust judge gave her what she requested.
 
How much more we can expect God to intervene on our behalf?
How much more will God bring justice to us, since we are his beloved, chosen children?
 
Yes, we will become discouraged at times - even Paul did.
But we must not quit and not give up praying – continually.
 
“Remember that God has been with us from the beginning and is always with us.
Today, in this moment, we are living miracles of the Creator God.
Let us go out into our day knowing that we have tasted the essence of God!
Talk to God constantly and remember to thank him for all that he does for us, in us and through us.”
 
Blessings…………..Pastor Rick

​Throughout his Gospel, Luke presents the Good News about Jesus, with the telling of parables, or stories.
He illustrates a series of personal encounters between Jesus and others – sometimes with the followers of Jesus, sometimes with his opponents, sometimes with strangers.
 
There were crowds of the curious and hopeful - and various other individuals – a tax collector, a centurion, a grieving mother, a sinful woman, a man inflicted with demons.
As Luke relates these stories, he shows how Jesus responds with love and grace and uses the occasions to teach the values of God, whilst all the time challenging the contrasting and distorted ways of the world.
 
Now, having reached Chapter 17, we find Luke recalling an episode in which Jesus was engaged by 10 lepers who were begging for mercy.
These unfortunates suffered from what we now call Hansen’s Disease, a chronic bacterial infection which affects the nerve endings, meaning that the afflicted cannot “feel”.
This malady, known among humans for thousands of years, went untreated in biblical times and caused permanent damage to skin, nerves, limbs and eyes, compromised the immune system, and hastened death.
 
Contrary to popular belief, it did not cause limbs to “drop off”, although secondary infections may have hastened their decay.
Though it’s now known to be only mildly infectious, the ancients considered it highly contagious and forced lepers to stay away from others, identifying their condition by calling out “unclean, unclean” when approaching others.
 
As a result, they were excluded from the general society and forced to make their own communities.
They became like dead men walking – at the mercy of others, ostracized, alienated from the richness of family life and the comfort of communal religious practices.
 
Like others, the lepers in today’s gospel reading were outcasts who bound themselves to one another out of necessity and because no one else would touch them.
All that mattered was their disease, as evidenced by the inclusion among them of a Samaritan, who would have been a hated and shunned foreigner in mainline Jewish society.
 
This band of 10 had nothing to offer others; nothing to offer Jesus.
When they saw him coming, they recognized him, perhaps by his reputation as a holy man, and approached within shouting distance, calling out: “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”
 
Possessing enough inspiration, or maybe just a sense of desperation, they reached out to Jesus with an appeal for healing that went beyond all conventional expectations.
And Jesus didn’t hesitate in his response.
He didn’t back off - or require the lepers to confess a faith in God.
He didn’t inquire about whether they were worthy – in fact, he didn’t ask anything of them.
Jesus just saw them for what they were, desperate men, in need of God’s grace and he said simply, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.”
 
According to Jewish law, a cured leper had to appear before the priests, who would conduct a series of elaborate ritual actions, in order to declare them cleansed.
The lepers, who had put their hope in Jesus, now displayed enough faith to obey him.
They immediately left his presence to go to the priests and then begin their new lives, made possible by Jesus.
 
What Jesus did for them, of course, bore remarkable significance.
Not only were they cured of a horrendous, disabling disease, but the cleansing also enabled them to overcome what was perhaps the greater affliction, separation from society.
Now, having been cured, they could return to their families, to become a part of the community that had cast them out. Now they could participate in life fully - restored physically and socially and surely experiencing the beginnings of emotional healing.
 
Yet, we might ask, did the lepers gain everything Jesus hoped they would?    
Did they achieve spiritual healing, as well as the physical healing?
We’ll never know about all of them, but we have assurance that one did – the Samaritan who returned to give thanks to Jesus.
What led to his distinguishing himself by praising God and falling at Jesus’ feet in gratitude? 
It was easier for him – as a double outcast – to see clearly the remarkable nature of what had happened.
 
Jesus was saddened that the outsider, the Samaritan, was the only one who came back, and he used the examples of the one and the nine, to teach his disciples another lesson about the grace of God.
He was clearly disappointed by the behaviour of the nine, and in earshot of his followers, he said to the now-cleansed Samaritan leper, “Your faith has made you well.”
 
In place of the word “well,” some bible translations use the words “made whole” or “saved.”
There is ambiguity about the Greek meaning, but its use by Jesus implies more than just being cured from a disease.
“Your faith has made you whole,” seems closer to the way Jesus used this episode to provide a new teaching.
The Samaritan was not simply physically cured of Hansen’s Disease, like the others, but experienced something more important – God’s saving grace.
 
His response to being cleansed, demonstrated that his view of God was closer to what Jesus came to earth to reveal. As he wasn’t of the Jewish faith, there was no reason for him to gain certification of his cure by rushing to the priests.
Instead, before anything else, he saw God as the centre of the personal miracle he was experiencing.
And so, the Samaritan returned and gave thanks for the chance to renew his life.
This was the beginning of his personal transformation, and it provided a fitting model for Jesus to honour.
The man was not only cured physically, but he also gained spiritual wholeness.
 
For the worshiper, there are several things to glean from today’s gospel reading – community, inclusivity and wholeness - in the life of the world and in Christianity.
We can think about it whenever we come to the communion table.
What we experience among our fellow worshipers, in prayer and in the common meal, is unity in its purest form. Receiving the sacrament of the bread and the cup, the body and blood of Christ, all else is shut out but the holy context.
We are at one with God and one another, in a sublime moment of grace - in this moment we’re made whole.
Even if we lose this reality as we depart from the church, we know it as a deep truth on which to draw on our journeys of faith.
In that moment, we know that everyone is like the Samaritan, freed from alienation and separation from others - in a realm of inclusion with God.
 
Luke’s story of this encounter between Jesus and the lepers allows him to teach us about the disappointment Jesus must have felt because the other nine failed to return and give thanks, but also the joy he must have experienced in discovering that the Samaritan recognized the deeper truths of God.
When Jesus reflects on the difference, he’s speaking to us, today, as well as the disciples of old.
Today we’re reminded of the sadness of our Lord when we, like the nine, fail to thank him.
 
More importantly, we are led to emulate the Samaritan by recognising the source of our healing – and that is God.
We can take joy in the act of committing ourselves anew to respond in love and gratitude to the grace, forgiveness and wholeness of God that we can all have - simply by accepting this freely offered gift.
 
So often we forget to give God the thanks that he deserves.
So don’t be like the nine, but instead, return back to God and give thanks to him for all his goodness towards you.
 
Pastor Rick

The disciples pleaded with the Lord: "Increase our faith."
They were concerned that there was so much to do and yet there were so many problems.
 
In interpreting scripture, we can look at what comes before and after the passage we are thinking about.
Last week we reflected on the story of the rich man and Lazarus the beggar.
In the first few verses of Luke 17, there are three teachings related to our concerns for the little ones in this world, the ways we injure and sin against each other, and the call to forgive.
 
These issues remain challenges today, because there are so many needs in the world and there’s so much conflict.
Therefore, we can understand the disciples' request to: "Increase our faith."
 
We live in a world of ever decreasing Christian faith and the problems on all fronts seem to be escalating.
People are scared and scarred, there is massive financial debt hovering over our nation and a greater use of violence to achieve political and personal ends.
Our systems - educational, economic, military, political, ecclesiastical - are all in some sort of crisis.
We might be tempted to say, along with the disciples, "Increase our faith."  
What else could we say?
What else could we do?
 
We might want to borrow the metaphor from Psalm 137 and sit down by cool waters, remembering Zion.
Another option is to fondly remember the past – we call it nostalgia - which is wonderful, but in truth, we don’t always remember the past as accurately as it happened.
Unfortunately, life was never as easy in the past, as we now think it was.
In reality, there were more diseases, warfare, discrimination and the list goes on.
And yet, we sometimes like to think that we’re also living in some kind of Babylon, where everything is great.
 
Maybe our obsession with modern day influencers – people like Paris Hilton or Kim Kardashian, can be seen as one sign that we’re living in an unreality - our own version of Babylon.
But there are others, too, like when we think that it’d be better if life were simpler, as it was in the old days.
Maybe like the times when we all went to church every Sunday, observed the Sabbath and shared meals together.
 
When the Jewish people were in exile, they knew that a certain part of their world had come to an end and the old has passed away, so they wondered what they were left with.
In fact, it was a new world that they were going to discover.  
Are WE still searching for it?
We might be asking, “What is life going to be like in this new world? What will family life be like in 20 years? What will the church look like in 20 years? What will our city look like in 20 years?”
 
If our eyes are open to the world around us, we should realise that we have many options:
We can ask for more faith, or we can return to the past, clinging to it.
There is also another option: we can give up - a course of action we call “despair”.
 
Oddly, some Christians choose this option – it’s the option where people believe that God isn’t going to fix the brokenness of this world, it's all going to come to an end, with some people simply being "left behind."
So, these are the three options before us.
We can long for the world of the past, for life the way it used to be.
We can stop worrying and be confident that we are God's chosen people.
Or, we can look at the third option again and ask: Just how are we going to live in this world?
 
·       One where over 8 million children have died since the beginning of 2004, many of them from preventable diseases
·       Where approximately 3.4 billion people have not yet been reached with the gospel
·       Where more Christians have been persecuted in the twentieth century, than in any previous century
·       Where more people have died violent deaths this century than in any prior century.
 
Our world is in peril, so should we, like the disciples ask Jesus to "Increase our faith"?
The response we get will be the same, "If you had just a little faith, you would be able to do amazing things...if you had faith the size of a mustard seed."
This could also be translated, "If you had faith as small as a mustard seed...and I assure you that you do...then you have the ability to do amazing things.
 
Are you familiar with the saying of Mother Teresa?
“Our calling is not to do great things, but to do small things with great love.”
 
The scripture might be saying something similar: we don’t need more faith; we just need to better use the faith that we already have!
 
Today, many Protestant churches observe World Communion Sunday, which falls on the first Sunday in October.
On World Communion Sunday, we reflect on the faith that we have.
Surely, this faith helps us to see a power that can overcome any obstacles.
Surely this faith helps us to know a love that can overcome any divisions.
Surely this faith helps us to discover an abundance that can overcome any scarcity.
Yes, sometimes we see mostly obstacles, divisions, scarcity.
Sometimes it’s like we’re singing the Lord's song in a strange land.
 
This teaching of Jesus presents us with a vivid image: a seed is planted in the ground and it can grow into something special if it is properly tended.
Jesus is alive wherever Christians practice the faith that they already have.
It’s not so much that we need more, but that we need to use what we already have!
 
There’s something here that relates to our human nature and goes against the grain.
We want more, don't we?
Isn't that one of the first words a child learns to say: “More!”
 
I saw a documentary some time ago in which the salesperson would ask every customer,
"Would you like to super-size that?" and most folks would respond, without thinking, "Sure!"
The spiritual logic tends to work like this:
The world is a mess, but we believe in God.
We believe that God wants us to do something, but what is the solution?
Some might just petition God to “Increase our faith!”
 
Today, our prayer might be simpler, more grounded in a reality to which Jesus points.
That we don't necessarily need more faith - we just need to better use the faith that we already have.
 
The good news, the promise of Jesus, is that even if we plant a seed in the midst of the sea, it will grow.
A small act of our faith will help.
Let the Christians across this planet pledge themselves to saving the lives of children.
Let the Christians across this planet pledge themselves to sharing the message of the gospel with all people.
Let the Christians of this world let go of divisions and judgmentalism.
Let the Christians of the world practice forgiveness.
 
We don't need to necessarily do great things...just small things with great love.
We don't need to ask for more faith... we just need to more effectively use the faith that we already have!     
 
Go in peace to love and serve the God who loves you more than you could ever imagine.
 
Pastor Rick