Photo by Jaspreet Kalsi on Unsplash
Twenty-Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
Who of us can claim to have all the faith we need, that we don’t need to ask for more? A few years ago, I arrived at an insight that there was no point asking God for more faith. It wasn’t because I thought I had enough faith. To the contrary. I didn’t think I had faith enough just for myself, never mind that other people expected me to have more faith than they did, or that they should rely on my faith to hold them up. No, I concluded there was no point asking God for more faith because God can only do so much. At some point God will need my consent and cooperation. You see, God does his part when he sends the Holy Spirit to dwell in our hearts at baptism and confirmation. The rest of the story is in the hands of each believer. God lights the flame of faith and invites each person into a very personal intimate connection with him. To each of the baptized God offers the invitation, sets the wheels of faith in motion, provides the people, materials, and experiences to help keep that faith alive, then awaits from us a response. Faith is first God’s free gift. The increase of my faith is my response to God’s incessant invitation to put my trust in him even more. If my faith isn’t enough, it isn’t God who’s slacking on the job. Rather, it’s because I have been unwilling to trust.
One afternoon, when I was in the sixth grade, I was stranded at school without a ride home. I called mom to pick me up but she didn’t see the possibility of it happening soon. So, she offered me two options. I could wait a couple more hours until she or someone else could come get me, or I could venture into the strange new world of public transportation. The thought of catching the public bus alone terrified me. But it was a different time and a different place. I knew I preferred not to wait at school much longer. The place was almost deserted. It would soon be dark. And the trip home would take an hour at least. So, I told mom I would take the bus. She asked if I had enough for bus fare since I had to change busses three times. I did. And without any hesitation, she said, “I’ll see you when you get home,” and hung up. I was petrified. I said I would take the bus, but I knew I was not mentally ready for the challenge. I had to remember which buses to take, where to get off, and where to pick up the next one. I was both excited and terrified, and probably hungry too. I did arrive home safely that day. But from then on, both my mom and I knew I would no longer have to call home for a ride ever again. I was now capable of getting home on my own. It would be a terrifying experience every single time, but my confidence only grew. And I was 12 then.
Faith is a gift given freely by God, an invitation to put our trust in him. God offers the gift of faith to the baptized, but not the faith we put in God, rather the faith God puts in us. God trusts us, believes in us, puts faith in us. My mom had to push me gently into the world by putting faith in me, by trusting me. It must have been a huge risk on her part. I can’t imagine the terror that grips a parent’s heart who sends their own child out into the world to accomplish what would otherwise be a mature task on their own, especially if it included a period of total disconnectedness, of gut-wrenching helplessness, with only the hope of reunion somewhere down the road. And God trusts each of us to let go, after providing us with good advice in scripture, examples from the lives of the saints, support from the people we love, and personal intimate encounters with himself. God believes in our ability to respond to that trust. God knows we can only begin to have faith in him when we actually do it willingly and confidently.
Yet now and again, that trust is shaken and challenged, and we find ourselves stepping back in grief, surprise, or terror, raising our hearts to God, asking like the prophet in the first reading, “How long, O Lord? I cry for help but you do not listen! I cry out to you, ‘Violence!’ but you do not intervene. Why do you let me see ruin; why must I look at misery?” It is the cry of beleaguered federal workers after months of job cuts and now working without pay or on furlough. It is the cry of the children of Gaza and Ukraine. “How long, O Lord! I cry for help but you do not listen!” The questions we ask are not new, “Where are you, God? Why this misfortune? Why us?” We want it all to make sense, although no explanation will settle our troubled hearts. Like the apostles in the gospel after realizing the smallness of their faith in the face of challenging teachings, we beg Jesus, “Increase our faith.”
And Jesus responds with a striking image. “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed …” A mustard seed is smaller than a pebble. I’m sure we would prefer instead faith the size of a watermelon. Yet that is precisely the point. It is either there or it isn’t. But if it’s there, whether the size of a mustard seed or a watermelon, it’s going to be the right amount of faith. If it is sincere, honest, total, and true, it will be enough. True and total dependence on God, sincere trust, honest reliance can only happen when we are willing to surrender our need for control or understanding or absolute certainty. If I can trust another totally and deeply, I surrender my fears and my plans into their embrace. I can live with frustration, ambiguity, and mystery because my total surrender in trust is what keeps me secure. Sometimes, my grounding of faith in God is shaken and I need the support of a friend to prop me up. But that is a temporary setback. My faith can recover when I regain focus, because I alone can surrender my fears. I alone can answer God’s invitation to step forward with confidence into the darkness and the unknown.
The community of believers that surrounds me provides strength when I am helpless, acceptance when I am disconnected, comfort when I am shattered. It is precisely that blend of strength, acceptance, and comfort that break my fall until I am able to rise on my own. That is why we need one another, why coming to church, why brushing elbows with other imperfect disciples is so important. It is in the community of believers that the strong hold up the weak, the mature support the faltering, and the confident comfort the shaken. There will not be enough answers for all my questions. But the courageous presence of others will give me confidence to fear no more, to believe God has my back. When I can surrender my fears, I am willing to trust, willing to put faith in God, who first put faith in me. All I need is even just a little faith as long as it is sincere, honest, total, and true. It will be more than enough. And I need no longer be concerned about getting answers. Some questions only God can answer to my satisfaction. But when I can put total trust in God, I can go about my day without fear; I can serve my God and God’s people with joy; I can walk alongside my neighbor with compassion, confident that God knows the truth of what is going on, that he cares deeply about me, and that he will bring his loving plan to completion, never mind what some people carelessly and maliciously post on social media. The rest is just details.
Rolo B Castillo © 2025