An open letter to Jesus

you've got some explaining to do

The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” 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.

“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’? 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’? Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? 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!’ ”

-Luke 17:5–10 (NRSV)

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Jesus, what the hell are you talking about?

Faith the size of a mustard seed can reshape landscapes. And then, once I do what’s been asked of me, I’m to act like I’m unworthy of commendation, instead taking the identity of a slave.

What. The. Actual. Fuck?

I just don’t get it. Where is the hope? Where is the good news? Where are you in this text?

You’re calling me to impossible tasks of uprooting trees with a command. This isn’t some Yoda/Luke Skywalker relationship. I’m not out here, following the crucified God, in order to learn some amazing feats of miraculous power. So what does the size of my faith have to do with it?

And you’re comparing me to a slave!? Really? I escaped the evangelical framework in part because they kept telling me I was worthless; I didn’t matter, that I was only as good as the righteousness you give. Inherently, I was nothing, sinful, deserving of death and hell. All of this was the reason I was told to be slaves to God, doing what was asked of me without complaint or hesitation. Then, no acclamation or praise was needed. I was just doing what it meant to be a slave.

Do you have any idea how this line of theological thinking has been used to abuse and oppress people? Preachers and teachers claim they have a word from God, and that word turns out to give them mansions and private jets in the name of their constituents giving as faithful servants. And let’s not even get into the sexual abuse that is justified by this thinking.

So, explain yourself.

Explain to me why I need to test the amount of my faith against miracles.

Explain to me how being a slave brings about liberation for the marginalized and oppressed.

I don’t know how to talk about this passage. About how to display the kenotic love you give in solidarity with our hurts and wounds and suffering. I don’t know how to shine a light on the power of the cross and the cruciform life. And I certainly don’t know how to talk about resurrection in this context.

I am at a loss with your cryptic words.

Where is hope?

Where is love?

Where are you?

Look, the truth is I don’t want to be a servant that refuses commendation. I spent much of my life dodging any good statements about myself because of verses like these. I’ve felt for years that there’s nothing really good about me, and that I have to strive to find any sort of faith half the size of a mustard seed. I internalized the message that I wasn’t good enough, that I wasn’t strong enough, that I wasn’t enough to be anything of importance.

That is a hard lens to watch a life with.

Why did you ever say things like this that lend themselves to religious trauma?

See, my evangelical neural pathways light up when I hear this passage, and they tell me that I need more faith and at the same time I am not worth any sort of good word, any blessing. Maybe I could be worth something if I had more faith. But I don’t. So I’m not.

How is this loving me, Jesus?

I need to know that I matter, that I am valuable. I need to know that my faithfulness is enough for you. I need to believe that you love me more than just a servant.

I need to hear you say I am your child, your brother, your beloved.

But I don’t hear that here. I don’t find any comfort. I don’t see anything but old voices and old messaging.

So, what do we do?

We seem to be at an impasse, Jesus. These are words written and preserved by the hand of the Spirit, and they are words that bring nothing but confusion and degradation.

I’d love to just skip over this passage and pretend it’s not there. But here it is, given through the lectionary as something important to think about. I am confronted with it, and I can’t get away from it if I’m going to be faithful in following you.

Maybe that faithfulness is part of this whole fucking mess.

Jesus, did you mean if I have faithfulness the size of a mustard seed?

Faith has come to mean some sort of magical belief, a blend of intellectual agreement with a set of statements and a blind trust of spiritual things. I don’t like that.

I don’t think faith is about understanding or about blindly stumbling forward, believing you’ll provide everything I need without concern or care.

Faith, to me, is about what I do.

You seem to imply this in the vs before this passage. You talk about not being a stumbling block for the little ones, the vulnerable, the delicate, the fragile. What I hear—tell me if I’m wrong—is a warning about the way I act towards the disinherited, the oppressed, the suffering. I hear a call to be someone who cares for people, not discarding them or treating them as if they don’t matter.

I hear talk about forgiveness. Again, about action. If someone repents seven times a day—implying they wrong me seven times a day—I am called to lean into a posture of forgiveness toward them.

So, you have these words that center around praxis, around the way we act out our beliefs.

The disciples then come to you asking for that which will enable them to live this way: faith.

Are you suggesting they don’t have faith even as small as a mustard seed… or are you telling them—and by extension me—that the faithfulness I have is enough?

Maybe you’re suggesting that I’m not a slave, that I am more than just the expectation of a role to fill. Maybe you’re not suggesting that the kingdom of God is built upon the backs of your holy servants.

Maybe the faithfulness I have is enough because even a small amount of a faithful life can accomplish things that are unimaginable.

Maybe a faithful life can un-colonize from whiteness.

Maybe a faithful life can live open-handed in the grip of capitalism, uprooting Mammon from the heart.

Maybe a faithful life is enough to help those crushed under the weight of oppressive systems of government and power not to stumble, but rather to be supported.

Maybe my small, faithful life is enough.

And maybe you see it as something beautiful, while I see it as my small way of entering kenosis with you. Maybe it’s ordinary to me, so I might, like a slave would, say I was just being a decent human, nothing great like uprooting the mulberry trees of oppression.

But you see greatness. You see me uprooting sin. You see me in solidarity with the hurting. And maybe you’re proud.

Maybe you’re acknowledging my desire and attempts at a kenotic life, at a life that is poured out for others, self-emptied of ego and dominance.

Maybe you’re telling me that I am one of the little ones, and that the small faithfulness I have to the beauty of the kingdom of liberation is enough to do great things.

Maybe these words aren’t about what you said. Maybe they’re about what is underneath what you said.

Maybe you said you love me.

Maybe you said you adore me.

Maybe you’re whispering words of liberation and freedom that I can be a part of.

I still don’t know, Jesus.

I don’t know what you mean by these words, these parables.

What I do know is the power of the cross and the promise of resurrection.

Maybe that’s enough.

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I am in the process of becoming a community chaplin with The Order of St. Hildegard. This program is designed to help form people into spiritual leaders that lead from the margins and serve the margins. It’s for the people who don’t quite fit with the traditional church because of trauma, disability, or identity. If you, as my community, would like to help me fulfill the financial obligation this chaplaincy program has, you can give at the link below. Thank you for the myriad ways you support me.

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