The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith.” The Lord replied, “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you would say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you. Who among you would say to your servant who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here immediately and take your place at table?’ Would he not rather say to him, ‘Prepare something for me to eat. Put on your apron and wait on me while I eat and drink. You may eat and drink when I am finished?’ Is he grateful to that servant because he did what was commanded? So should it be with you. When you have done all you have been commanded, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.’” (Luke 17.5-10)
In September 1852, four nuns who belonged to the Sisters of Loretto arrived in Santa Fe, New Mexico, having traveled for several months from Kentucky, first by steamboat and then by covered wagon, arriving at their destination after many struggles and setbacks, including the death of their superior from cholera. Invited by Archbishop Lamy of Santa Fe to come to his province to help teach the Native Americans and Mexicans who made up the sparse population of the area at the time, the nuns began with a small school, built by local Mexican carpenters.
Two decades later, they began work on a chapel designed by the same architect who had planned the cathedral in Santa Fe. It was to have a Gothic design measuring 25 feet by 75 feet with a height of 85 feet. French and Italian masons went to work on the structure which progressed in spite of financial woes, the faith of the sisters remaining strong throughout the process.
However, as construction neared its end, everyone realized a mistake had been made. While the chapel proved itself to be beautiful and the choir loft impressive, the drawings had failed to connect the nave with the choir loft by way of a stairway. Given the height of the choir loft, there was no space left for an ordinary staircase.
The nuns consulted with various carpenters, none of whom could come up with an answer, all of whom agreed that it could not be done, leaving two options–either use a ladder to access the loft or tear down the whole structure and start over. Neither answer was a good one. So, the Sisters did what they always did best. They prayed, beginning a nine-day novena to Saint Joseph the Worker, hopeful that the humble carpenter of Nazareth would bring them a solution.
On the last day of the novena, a gray-haired man knocked on the convent door, bringing with him a donkey and a small tool chest. He asked if he might help the Sisters by building a stairway in the new chapel. The nuns readily agreed, although the man only had a hammer, a saw, and a T-square. Working tirelessly and quietly, the old man finished the job some six months later.
When the nuns went to pay the carpenter, he had disappeared. Likewise, when they went to the lumber yard to pay for the wood he had used, the people there knew nothing of it. No one knew where the wood had come from and even years later experts have had a difficult time identifying the type of wood that the man had used, much less guess its origins.
The staircase, circular in form, was a masterpiece, having two complete 360 degree turns. There was no supporting pole up the center that typically would be needed for a circular stairway. In other words, it hangs in the air without any support. The entire weight is on the base. Furthermore, there are no nails in the staircase, only wooden pegs.
Over the years, the mysterious staircase has attracted thousands of visitors, including architects who to a man say they cannot understand how the staircase was constructed nor can they explain why it has remained sturdy after a century-and-a-half. The most baffling feature is the construction of the stringers that support the stairs, each piece perfectly carved even though the old man had only the most primitive tools with which to work.
To this day, there are no good answers. The Sisters have held on to a firm belief that Saint Joseph answered their prayers. Some of them even believed that Saint Joseph himself was the man who had showed up at the convent doors. Their answer is as good as any because no one seems able to explain how the staircase was built or how it stays in place, resulting in it often being called “the Inexplicable stairs.”
That story is a good one to recall as we listen to Jesus say to his disciples today, “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you would say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” We find those words from Rabbi Jesus in Chapter 17 of Saint Luke’s gospel, a part of a greater whole in the text wherein Jesus offers instructions on the demands of discipleship.
In this section, we find four such instructions, two of which are provided in the selection for this Twenty-Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time. The first instruction or saying calls the disciples’ attention towards the avoidance of temptations or “things that cause sin.” Jesus cautions that it would be better for that man “if a millstone were put around his neck and he be thrown into the sea than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin.”
The second saying concerns forgiveness, Jesus insisting to his disciples that “if your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him. And if he wrongs you seven times in one day and returns to you seven times saying, ‘I am sorry,’ you should forgive him.’” We have the third saying in front of us today, with Jesus using the example of a mustard seed as a symbol of faith and its power.
Finally, the fourth teaching is a call to humility on the part of his disciples, reminding them that whatever they do in service to his words and works should not result in a big head for them, but instead they should remind themselves that when all is said and done their response should simply be, “We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.”
Returning to the third teaching, the one having to do with faith, we’ll put our attention on it because it is one of the major building blocks of discipleship. To follow in the footsteps of Jesus requires great faith, obstacles and obstructions always being placed before us, causing even the best of us to stumble to our feet as we attempt to conform our lives to the ways of Jesus. Without faith in the future, we easily find ourselves filled with doubts and dreads about what lay ahead for us, wanting to bury our heads in the sand rather than face the tomorrow, much less the day ahead.
I think it is important for us to see that the words about faith that Jesus spoke were in response to a request from his followers who say to him, “Increase our faith,” the literal translation being “add faith to us,” the phrase implying that they also were weak in faith. If their faith was stout and strong, they would not need it increased. Instead, it apparently falters, as does our own, resulting in them asking Jesus to increase their supply so that they might weather the storms ahead.
In some ways, it is reminiscent of their request to Jesus that he teach them to pray. As we have already seen in Chapter 11 of Luke’s gospel, one of Jesus’ disciples, having watched Jesus in prayer, says to him, “Lord, teach us to pray just as John taught his disciples.” In both instances, we must credit the disciples with knowing what they needed if they were to be faithful followers of the Teacher.
Interestingly, in this instance, Jesus does not offer any particular instruction as he did to their request to him to pray, providing them with the so-called “Lord’s Prayer” in response. Instead, here he simply tells them if their faith was the size of a mustard seed they could do wondrous things. Rather than concrete measures, he gives them a challenge.
So, I’ll be bold enough to fill in the blanks, offering some hard-earned insights I have gained along the way, each of them learned in the school of hard-knocks where all the serious learning in life takes place. First, I would say that faith does not suddenly appear when the circumstances call for it. It’s not like an egg that we crack when we want an omelet.
In fact, it is quite the opposite. Faith is something that has to be grown like a potted plant, nurtured and cared for over time. If we want it to be there when we need it, vibrant and strong, then we will have to tend to it over time. Faith must be exercised regularly in order to be strong. We don’t powerlift heavy weights without having first gone to the gym many times before. So it is with faith. We have to practice having faith regularly, even in small things, so that when big things come along, we’re prepared.
Another thing. Faith does not grow best in an incubator, enclosed and contained. Rather, it grows best when surrounded by other faith-filled people. Faith, like a good many other things, requires cross-pollination if it is going to become something strong and sturdy. Like a small child that needs assistance with the first steps it takes, clutching the hands of a parent, so our faith also needs help from others who have mastered the feat, their encouragement and example providing us with the necessary will to imitate and to increase our fledging faith.
There is a third principle about faith that is often overlooked. Faith is made or broken in bad times, not in good times. Too often, people are quick to say that their faith is strong, the claim made when everything is going well in life. Then a storm comes along, ripping away much of what they took for granted, and suddenly their faith is put to the test, the moment before them the test of its true strength.
So, we should be slow to make quick claims about the quality of our faith, especially if they are made when the sun is shining and all is right in the heavens. The true quality test of faith comes in the godawful times when little is right and we’re not sure where God is. Like the stars that only show themselves in the night sky, so the brightness of our faith only shows itself in the darkest times.
Last, it is always sound advice to ask for more faith as the disciples did. Praying that our faith might increase is surely a worthwhile practice. However, I am duty bound to also provide a caveat. When we pray for greater faith, God tends to provide us with opportunities for our faith to grow, meaning we find ourselves on a battlefield where our faith either stands or falls.
The Most High God knows well that our faith requires trials and tests if it is to become strong. So if we ask him to increase our faith, then he will provide us the opportunity for it to grow, putting before us challenges and contests the likes of which we may never have imagined. So, this directive comes with a warning label. If we ask that our faith be increased, then we also must be prepared for some bouts in the boxing ring of life. If we stand for twelve rounds, we can be sure that our faith has become stronger, even if our bodies feel beaten up and bruised.
The Sisters of Loretto ended up with a magnificent staircase for their chapel. It came to them when there were no good answers. However, by that point, their faith had been tried and tested in terrible ways and it had shown itself strong and resilient. Like the mustard seed that grew into a mulberry tree, their faith had increased through steady exercise.
So, when the problem of the missing staircase presented itself, they put their faith in Divine Providence and, as we have seen, on the ninth day of their praying, there was a knock on the door, an old man with a small bag of tools resting on his shoulders stood on the other side, ready to build them a stairway, constructed and carved from the wood of the mulberry tree of their faith.
–Jeremy Myers
Sunday Brunch 