Something to live by: this is the faith that God gives us. It is the sure truth—the sacred deposit—handed to us by the apostles. It is that which strengthens us and encourages us. It is the object of our longing and desire, that which we cling to as the substance of our hope of things to come.
No wonder the disciples requested of Jesus, "Increase our faith." They knew well the rich tradition of faith being the substance of salvation. It was nothing hidden from them since scripture clearly proclaimed it. Perhaps what they really were saying was "Jesus, make us more like you."
When we look deeply into our own hearts we may find that we are not all that different from those disciples who requested an increase in faith. We too would like a little more faith, especially to get us through some of the more difficult times we face—times perhaps when there are doubts. Everyone has them, and we'd all enjoy being a little more like Jesus in those times.
However, first we should take a closer look at what Jesus was, in fact, like. Specifically, we should ask, "What was Jesus' faith like?" Unquestionably, we should strive to be like Jesus: he is the model of right relationship with God—the God whom he called Abba Father—the God whom he called, in a very human way, Daddy.
It does us good to bear in mind that in his humanity Jesus was like us: certainly he had times of doubt like us. The portrayal of Jesus in Gethsemane leading up to his passion shows him wrestling with tremendous doubt.
In all things except sin he was like us. He was tempted like us. He got tired, he ate, he drank—indeed Jesus was fully human. When we consider the faith that Jesus had we must first consider how his humanity shaped his faith. In his divinity he chose to become one of us fully, completely, in order to save us: he poured out the divine to be like one of us, to show us the path of faith. Jesus totally understood human faith. It was God's will and desire to look like one of us and in every way to be like one of us.
Here, perhaps, we see why the disciples get a little bit of a scolding when they ask for more faith. It's like Jesus is telling them to use what they have already. Could it be that each one of us is endowed with the same ability to have faith as everyone else? Could the increase of faith be up to us alone? In our human capacity to have faith are we any different from Jesus? It appears to me that in the gospel Jesus is telling the disciples "Hey, as human beings you've got the same potential and ability that I have—use it."
What we are to have—what we are to be given—in terms of spirituality, that is, in terms of the quantity and quality of our spiritual lives, has to do with how we go about using the potential we have already.
In the second reading today St. Paul reminds his beloved son in the faith of the gift, the sacred deposit, that was given to him. "Put to work what you have already," he tells him. The key to understanding for Timothy, and for us, is in the words "bear your share of hardship for the gospel with the strength that comes from God."
Faith is about being able to take the mundane, ordinary, and often difficult tasks at hand, and to do something extraordinary with them: to bear everyday hardships as a gift from God, and as a sacred opportunity—to put faith into action regardless of how mundane our everyday jobs may seem.
Though I would never take what I do lightly, sometimes I jokingly refer to my daily work of being a special education teacher as penance, but it's really no joke at all—I see it as an opportunity for my faith to mature in an everyday setting, and for me to grow in holiness. As a convert I learned that Catholics traditionally offered up their hardships for the poor souls in purgatory.
Interestingly, I've learned there's a great deal of value in that. At least I can tell you that my soul on most days is in state of being purified, so it makes sense at least that I can offer my hardships as penance for my own shortcomings. Faith also teaches us to offer our everyday experiences, our difficult times, for others as well. It's true that all we do is connected. Christ has no body now but yours. My salvation is intimately connected to your salvation.
As followers of Jesus we can come to accept our daily tasks and responsibilities as opportunities to put faith to work, whether it be the burden of paperwork or house work, changing tires or changing diapers—or perhaps meeting an impending production deadline, or solving a seemingly impossible engineering problem. In the eyes of faith the everyday world is the greatest gift.
The Psalmist tells us "Harden not your heats as at Meribah, as in the day of Massah in the desert." Rather, take you have been given—as much as it so richly is—and put it to work. Spiritually speaking, the increase of faith comes about, simply said, from using what you have already.
Much food for thought here, dd. I always think of faith as an infused virtue, and pray for more. You've got me pondering, again. :)
Posted by: Gabrielle | October 09, 2007 at 01:35 PM
I hope it's not necessary for salvation, but I could never ever believe that Jesus ever suffered doubt. I think His Gethsemane pain was built of much, not least of all the height of tiredness of being alone on the planet, especially after 3 years of a life without Mary present every day.. but also, a seeing or an intuition of all of whom and what He would be dying and atoning for. Can we imagine taking on the cost of a Jeffrey Dahmer, a Charles Manson, a Fr. Shanley or Fr. Geoghan, a JonBenet Ramsey killer, a Jim Jones, a Michael Schiavo and his band of legal thugs, and the cost of gays completely adulterating the table of His final and now fulfilled Passover seder? Not to even mention all the rest who ever were, and ever shall be.
But amen, an increase of faith comes about from truly using what you have already been given. And that is what those 3 beads ask Mary in her most holy Rosary to help obtain, an increase in Faith, Hope and Love.
Posted by: Songbird | October 10, 2007 at 03:52 PM
Yes, Gabrielle, you've got it right on both accounts--faith is the gift of God to us; it is infused in us by him. I think that it's how we go about getting more of it, or being open to receiving an increase, that involves our using what we have already.
Part of being human is having a natural capacity to know God. Because we know God, and because we have the gift of faith, we do indeed, rightly, pray for more.
Undoubtedly, faith is a great gift. By it we see God more clearly, but in honesty as human beings we often struggle with believing. However, what stands in our way more? Our inability to receive faith, or our unwillingness to exercise that which we possess already?
Posted by: Deacon DW | October 10, 2007 at 08:56 PM
Songbird, I'd say that Jesus, in being like us--as a human being--had thoughts, or perhaps, stated better, temptations of doubt.
However, this doesn't mean that he gave in to them. It would have been more accurate for me to have said that Jesus agonized at Gethsemane. I think that as a human he wrestled with doubt because we wrestle with doubt, and he was indeed like us. Just because we wrestle with doubt does not mean that we despair. However, we most certainly agonize at times.
However, Jesus' faith never failed him--he was like us in all things except sin.
We can all have times of doubt, or agony, without allowing doubt be the victor--without allowing agony to get the better of us.
In a way this reminds me of Mother Teresa's doubt. Was doubt able to persuade her to abandon her faith? What was the evidence of her actions in the end?
Jesus never doubted God--even crying out from Golgotha, but on more than one occasion do not his disciples elicit his doubts in their regard? Yes, Jesus did have times of doubt, but not ever in doubting God.
Posted by: Deacon DW | October 10, 2007 at 09:41 PM