Introit: Holy, Holy, Holy - 4
Call to Worship
Good morning! I’m Pastor Ashley. To those here in the sanctuary and those joining us online: we are so glad you’re here!
Nicole is on vacation this week, so many thanks to Anne for leading us in worship through song this morning.
This morning, we will sing songs of worship, pray together, hear from scripture and one another, as we move toward the pinnacle of our service: the table of our Lord, where we will take the bread and drink the cup in remembrance of our most Gracious Host, Jesus. The purpose of our time together each Sunday is to bring our hearts closer to the heart of God, so I invite you to participate in as much or as little in our prepared liturgy as your spirit is willing.
We welcome all sounds and smells from the youngest to the oldest among us. The Kids Corner is in the back for anyone who needs to move around and play to worship God this morning. There is also a nursery available. We know that the energy and spirit of children can be different than adults and we consider that reality a gift.
There are information cards in the pew in front of you—if you are a guest, or if you have moved and have not updated your info with the church, please fill it out and drop it in the offering plate when it goes by later in worship.
For those watching online or for those who would like to follow along, our liturgy for every service is posted on our website before the service begins.
We invite you to Sunday School at 10 AM every week. There’s classes that meet in the Seekers room and the Parlor. There is also a combined children and youth class that meets in the MUB. Godly Play meets behind the sanctuary for our younger elementary students.
If you’re looking for a way to connect with God throughout the week, we invite you to subscribe to our podcast, wherever you find your podcasts. Each month, we will be offering a lectio divina episode. It’s less than 10 minutes—you’ll hear from multiple voices in the congregation. It’s a guided scripture and prayer practice that is accessible even to the novice podcast listener.
Thanks to everyone who came to Gospels and Groceries and filled our shelves for our Little Free Pantry!
Also, don’t forget the golf tournament is just a few weeks away—October 15. If you have not yet signed up to volunteer, make sure you check with Rick Seeds this week.
I want to draw your attention to something in your bulletin. We have put a survey for how you receive your news about Azle stuff. Please take moment at some point during the service and check all the ways that you use to keep up with life at Azle. And then you can put it in the offering plate as it goes by later in the service.
We also will be collecting a special offering for our denomination’s reconciliation ministry. That information is also inside your bulletin. The Reconciliation Ministry in the Disciples of Christ seeks to practice faithfulness with regard to the elimination of racism, which exists in all manifestations of the church, to discern the presence and nature of racism as sin, to develop strategies to eradicate it, and to work toward racial reconciliation.
And now a word from our Pandemic Response Committee.
We begin a new series today called Let Me Tell You a Story: Jesus Stories from Luke.
Let’s pray to turn our hearts toward God for this hour.
Spirit of truth, open to us the scriptures, speaking your holy word through song, through the bread and cup, and through offering ourselves, and meet us here today in the living Christ. Amen.
Call to Worship: Christians, We Have Met to Worship - 277
Litany of Faith
One: Do not fret yourself because of evildoers; do not be jealous of those who do wrong.
All: For they shall soon wither like the grass, and like the green grass fade away.
One: Put your trust in the LORD and do good; dwell in the land and feed on its riches.
All: Take delight in the LORD, who shall give you your heart’s desire.
One: Commit your way to the LORD, put your trust in the LORD, who will bring it to pass.
All: The LORD will make your righteousness as clear as the light and your just dealing as the noonday.
(From Psalm 37)
Pastoral Prayer
The Lord be with you.
We continue to pray for Paul Reed, who is moving Azle Manor and will be put on hospice.
Today is World Communion Sunday. It’s a day that is observed by denominations all over the world to celebrate our oneness in Christ. We’ll take communion later today and remember our siblings in Christ all around the globe, but right now, we will pray with the remembrance.
Since it’s the first Sunday of the month, we will conclude our prayer by singing the Lord’s Prayer, which is #310 in your hymnal. It will also be on the screen.
Join me in prayer.
Most Holy One, we come in prayer seeking your promise for a peace that surpasses our understanding.
When we look at our world, we see war and heartache and hopelessness. We see violence and vitriol and terror. We lament with the world’s suffering, knowing that you weep with us. We pray that you transform our tears into signs of hope. We ask that this gift of water pour forth peace into a dry and weary world.
We pray for those who are lost and lonely; for those who are suffering, sick and scared; for the fragile and forgotten; for war-torn countries and divided lands; for children and the aged caught in conflict; for those on the margins seeking to meet you. Help us to trust that your mercies are new every morning, somehow. And from the smallest mustard seed of faith, stir in us the will to be part of your transformation in the world.
Creator God, we come in prayer seeking your vision for a more just and merciful world filled with joy. Grant us an imagination for new possibilities for relationship and restoration. Embolden us to act. Empower us to help write your story of a world where systems and structures are built to serve the smallest and most fragile among us, of a world where racism is replaced with reconciliation and repair; of a world where poverty is transformed into plenty; of a world where justice and joy reign. In our actions and our prayers, help us to be your people of justice and peace.
As the rain pours down from heaven and waters the earth, so may your Word spring forth as our source of justice and our joy. As the mountains and hills burst into song, so may we return to praise and glory to you. As all Creation bears witness to your goodness, so may we bear witness to the image of God in one another that you called very good. As the trees of the field clap their hands at your mighty acts, so may our hands clap for joy when your justice and peace reign.
For all these things we pray in the name of our brother and redeemer Jesus, who taught us to pray…
The Lord’s Prayer - 310
I Come With Joy - 420
Sermon
Luke 17:5-10
5 The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” 6 The Lord replied, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.
7 “Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table’? 8 Would you not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me; put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink’? 9 Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? 10 So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’ ”
This is the word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God.
This is the sermon where I compare our holy, Christian faith to a cockroach. This story is not for the faint of heart.
Picture this. JD and I are about to make a big move from Austin, Texas to Fort Worth. I have just quit teaching. JD just got a big promotion. School’s out for the summer. I have just had a huge group of graduated students over to my house for a goodbye party.
The morning after the shindig, I blearily walk out of my room to our pantry, grab a bag of instant oatmeal and lazily stir it into some milk. I open the microwave and right as I’m about to put the bowl in, a bug skitters out. I yelp and drop the bowl. JD runs out of the room ready to fight, but alas, the bug is gone. We shrug it off.
The next day, a similar thing happens. I don’t know how it’s possible, but little bugs keep running out of my microwave, even though the door remains shut. I move the microwave off the counter and try to peer inside as we try to figure out if it’s all the same bug. They’re not your classic cockroach but neither are they ants or little beetles. I’ve never seen this bug before. We shrug it off.
A week goes by of this cat and mouse, or rather human and bug game, and dread fills my heart with each encounter that this is becoming an infestation. But this dread is not a sudden a-ha moment. It’s like when you wake up in the middle of the night, caught between dream and reality, unsure if the sound you heard was part of the dream or was in the house. It’s like a gradual realization.
I contemplate this bug and start to avoid the kitchen subconsciously as I pack boxes for our big move.
And then two weeks after the first bug made its grand appearance I go to my coffee maker on a Saturday morning. Do you know how much I love Saturday mornings? They are times of blessed peace. I sip my coffee slowly and read a book and imagine that I’m in an English cottage working on a sleepy detective novel. It is a sacred time. It is holy.
And as I go to pull the coffee filter compartment off my coffeemaker, my life unknowingly inches closer to becoming the scene of a horror film. Before I can even pull the compartment all the way out, tiny white bugs pour out, roll out all over the kitchen counter and onto the floor. I am screaming bloody murder. Hell’s gates have opened. Death is at my doorstep. This is the end.
JD barrels out of the bedroom thinking, rightfully so, that I am in danger. He grabs the coffeemaker and runs out into the garage and throws it in the trash. He does the same with the microwave. We pull out the vacuum and start vacuuming up these little baby horrors that have filled our home. We open our kitchen cabinets to find more mature bugs lurking behind our dishes. JD is calling every pest company he knows to see who can be at our house 20 minutes ago.
Hours later, after our house has been fumigated and we have recovered from the initial shock of the invasion, we debrief with the exterminator. And he tells us that what we were dealing with was a German cockroach.
And we learned that day about this little bug. How they travel in bags. How they like warm, damp places to breed like microwaves and coffeemakers. How their eggs do not take long to hatch. And how they are impossible to get rid of once those eggs are laid without professional help.
And he tells that our horrors are not over. That over the next week as we move our furniture and pack boxes, we will find heaps of dead German cockroaches in small spaces. We will realize how quickly our house had become occupied by this tiny, seemingly unassuming bug that had traveled with one of my students just a few weeks ago. And we did. Holy Moses, we did.
Now that everyone feels sufficiently squirmy, here we arrive at our text today.
We begin a tiny series today. Tiny like a mustard seed, Tiny like a German cockroach. It’s called Let Me Tell You a Story: Jesus Stories from Luke. Over the next few weeks, we will be looking at some stories Jesus tells and one story about Jesus. We’re joining back up with the lectionary as we make our descent from Ordinary Time and prepare to land in Holy Season.
And this one begins with a familiar metaphor: the mustard seed. This time, we’re not talking about “the kingdom of God is like…” but rather, faith the size of a mustard seed.
Let me remind you a little about what’s been going in Luke concerning matters of faith. It’s been a minute. Immediately before this text, Jesus is telling his disciples things like, “Take care not to stumble—and woe to you if your stumbling causes someone else to do the same! If someone sins against you, forgive, and even if you have to do it seven times a day…”
Given these verses, we might understand why the disciples ask for more faith. That kind of living seems like it’s gonna require something more heavy duty than what they’ve got.
And in the gospel of Luke, this idea of “little faith” makes its appearance frequently. In the midst of a stormy sea, Jesus asks them, “Where is your faith?” And in the midst of everyday worries, Jesus says, “You of little faith!”
So it would make sense that they would ask for more faith.
But Jesus doesn’t seem concerned with the size or strength of faith. Actually, in classic Jesus fashion, he doesn’t respond to the disciples’ request, but rather gives them a metaphor.
He tells them that faith as small as a mustard seed can move a mulberry tree into the sea and make it grow.
It can uproot a tree and plant it somewhere else!
But not just anywhere. Somewhere completely impractical and absurd: the sea!
Which is really cool, I guess, but what use do we have for a tree in the sea?
And then he goes on to deliver what I have dubbed “The Terrible Parable.”
Look, I’m gonna be honest. When Jesus tells this story, I don’t like it. I don’t like him. The imagery he uses grates on my 21st century ears. For all the liberating talk Jesus does, and for all the liberating trajectory we see in scripture, it would have been really great if Jesus had just said plainly at some point for everyone to hear and write down, “Slavery is bad. Stop it.”
He doesn’t, and I wish he did, and lots of really terrible things have happened because of the way slavery is handled in scripture. We know this.
But that’s not even the whole reason that I called this “The Terrible Parable.”
It’s the way the parable works that makes me want to pull my hair out. That gives me the creepy crawlies. That makes me feel like I’m about to unknowingly open a little coffee pot of horrors.
Jesus begins by saying to the disciples: Imagine you have enslaved people. One person, actually. And he has been out in the fields all day working for you with no pay and no freedom. It’s really hot in the Middle East, I don’t know if you knew.
And he says like it’s normal, “Would you say come here and have some dinner? Rest your feet? Sit with me for awhile?” Jesus answers his own questions with, “Hilarious, no. You would tell him to make you dinner and serve you, and you can eat and drink later.”
And it’s worth noting that in the ancient world, these are two different sets of duties for an enslaved person, so that this theoretical master is exploiting the person he has enslaved even further by making him work double shifts. Hardly worthless, if you ask me.
But then Jesus sprinkles the parable pixie dust and things get weird.
And all of sudden, the roles have shifted. He tells the disciples, you who were just like the masters are now like the enslaved. You must do what you are ordered to do because it’s your duty. Don’t ask for thanks. Don’t ask for applause. This is what you ought to have done in the first place.
I’m sorry, what?
I’ve said before that parables are like rooms with trap doors. They don’t make sense until you fall through the trap door, most of the time by accident.
So where’s the trap door and what happens when we fall through it?
I think we should go back to the German cockroach. I know, I’m sorry.
It did not take an army of German cockroaches to infest my house. It did not take a family. It took one. Just one.
And I didn’t know it was happening until it was far too late. I didn’t realize how the power had shifted in my house before I was screaming bloody murder.
The little bug did not have to assemble hundreds of companions to move my microwave. No, he made JD do it for him. Just by being himself. Just by doing what German cockroaches do.
I didn’t have to send JD Amazon listings for a new and improved coffeepot to get one. A German cockroach and his abundant fruitfulness did that for me. Simply by living its life.
And as much as I hated it. And have nightmares about it still. And have been on a first name basis with our pest guy ever since, that experience changed my life. And I’ll never forget it. Unfortunately.
So I wonder if faith the size of a mustard seed has less to do with the size and more to do with the function. Like what is faith for? What do we mean by faith anyway?
Are we talking about a magical ability to manipulate God into getting what we want? Or is faith in intellectual booster shot? Is it the antidote to anxiety? Is faith a certainty that will make us happier, holier, stronger, braver? Will it rewire our brain and heart so that doubt is impossible? Is that what we’re talking about when we say faith?
Because I just wonder if by Jesus talking about a mustard seed faith, he’s saying, you have the size of the faith you need. The kind that can already do astonishing things like rearrange the landscape. Uprooting a tree and planting it into the sea? The whole vista has changed with your small faith.
What if more faith is not necessarily better faith? What if faith is not even quantifiable?
Perhaps the smallness is the point. You don’t need a bigger faith—you just need to lean in to your little one.
And besides, faith is not really a noun anyway, is it? I mean, yes, technically, grammatically, it is.
But faith is what you do, not what you have. It’s an orientation to the world. It’s action. It’s engagement.
And here’s the thing, then, with “The Terrible Parable.” The trap door, perhaps. When we are leaning in to our small faith, we simply do what faith does. We’re not looking for brownie points or gold stars. Because we’re simply being us.
There’s a reversal of power in “The Terrible Parable.” The disciples begin as masters and end up as slaves. They begin with all the power, and end with none. And that’s the point of mustard seed faith. That it’s not us that is moving the mulberry tree into the sea. It’s God, isn’t it.
It’s not us rearranging the landscape. It’s God.
It’s not us leveling the mountains and the valleys. It’s God.
It’s not us casting down the mighty and lifting up the lowly. It’s God.
It’s not us turning the kingdom upside down. It’s God.
But our faith is the conduit. It’s the vehicle. It’s the little hole in a flute that Christ’s breath moves through.
We don’t need big, sexy faith to do great things for God. That’s not the point of faith anyway. We just need to live our small faith because that’s what we do. It’s what we ought to do.
And in that place of humility, without us even realizing it, God is working and changing the landscape of the world.
While we are eating and sleeping and going about our small faith lives, God is changing the backdrop of our world.
And before we know it, our view will have changed.
Things that once seemed impossible and impractical will be as natural as can be.
Amen.
Let Us Break Bread Together - 425
Sharing Our Resources
There are many ways to support and resource the ministries of Azle Christian Church. You can give online on our website, on Venmo, or in the offering plate as the deacons come by during our final song. Don’t forget to drop your notification survey in the plate.
Invitation
If you’d like to become a member of this faith community, or if you’d like to become a disciple of Jesus, please talk with me after service or sometime this week.
Benediction:
Please rise in body or spirit for our benediction, the final song, and the Doxology.
Receive this blessing….
Go out in joy,
Bearing witness to the good news of the gospel,
And be led forth in peace,
Sharing the peace of Christ with all.
Amen.
Leaning on the Everlasting Arms - 560 (v 1 & 3)
Doxology