J. Douglas Dortch, Jr., Ph.D.
First Baptist Church, Tallahassee, FL
“What Difference Can I Make?”

Scripture: Matthew 17:20

August 19, 2007

Moorhead, Minnesota is a small, college community right across the state line from Fargo, North Dakota.  In the winter, life tends to get a bit bleak in that part of the country, until at least the Christmas season draws near.  At Christmas, everything around Moorhead tends to get a lot brighter.

That’s because the college that is located in Moorhead, Concordia, puts on a huge Christmas production each December, complete with choir and orchestra.  But the people in the community get in on the act also.  Every year, the citizens of Moorhead create a 100 by 30 foot mosaic that serves as a background for the concert.  They start in the summer.  In fact, for the last couple of months hundreds of people, from senior citizens to small children, paint by number little pieces of the mosaic, one piece per person.  When everyone has finished painting his little square, an artist then goes over the entire design so that it ends up looking like this enormous stained-glass window.

The weekend of the concert, the people who helped with the painting always arrive early.  And when the other members of the audience begin to arrive, you can hear the whispers running through the crowd: “See that little green spot under the camel’s foot.  See that little brown spot next to that bale of hay.  See that gold square.  See that white circle.  I did that.  I painted that.  That’s my work.  That’s my contribution.”  Six months earlier, they had painted a tiny, insignificant piece of tile.  But six months later, the result is a spectacularly beautiful masterpiece” (Mike Yaconelli, Messy Spirituality, pp. 118-19).

I think that story is a parable of how all of us would like for our lives to go.  I don’t know that it’s so much the case that we want to have spots in life that are necessarily big and noticeable.  I don’t know that so many of us want to be up front and center stage.  I think it’s more the case that the vast majority of us would be content simply to know that our little lives and our small and tiny efforts somehow serve a purpose that matters and is meaningful, is grand and glorious.

Even if you’re not a football fan, chances are that you know the name, Tom Brady.  Quarterback of the New England Patriots, Brady is not only one of the top NFL quarterbacks, he is also one of the NFL’s best stories (and right now, the NFL is certainly looking for some good quarterback stories).  By age 28, Brady had already won three Super Bowls, an accomplishment that ranks him with some of the best ever to play the game. 

But with all of his fame and accomplishments, two years ago in a CBS 60 Minutes interview, he told the person interviewing him, “In spite of the rings and the honors, I still can’t help but think that there’s something out there greater for me.  I know a lot of people would say, ‘Hey, this is what it’s about!’”  But I can’t help but think, ‘God, it’s got to be more than this.  This can’t be what it’s all cracked up to be.’”  And when the interviewer delved deeper, asking, “So, what’s the answer?” Brady only could say, “I wish I knew.  I really wish I knew” (60 Minutes, www.cbsnews.com, 11/6/05).

If somebody like Tom Brady, who’s attained all manner of success and accomplishment hasn’t been able to find significance in all he’s been about, what hope is there for the rest of us?  What chance do we have to carve out a niche that really counts?

Those are questions that are addressed by this text in Matthew’s gospel.  It’s an honest story, one of those stories that make you realize that the Bible has to be true, because no one putting the Bible together would have ever allowed this story to get in there otherwise.

It shows the disciples as hapless failures, who cannot for the life of them understand what has gone wrong.  Just a week earlier, Jesus had promised them the “keys to the Kingdom.”  “Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven” (Matthew 16:19).  But now, they get approached by a man whose son is suffering from seizures, and they can’t do him a bit of good.  Try as they might, they are unable to effect a healing in his life.

So, when the father goes above them and takes the matter directly to Jesus, they are confused and embarrassed.  And Jesus doesn’t help their feelings.  “O unbelieving and perverse generation,” he says to them, “how long am I going to have to put up with you?”  That’s not exactly a statement that boosts confidence, especially when it comes from Jesus.  I don’t know about you, but I’d be wondering, “So, what’s my future in this deal?  What role do you expect me to play, if any?  What difference can I possibly make?”

Later, after Jesus heals the boy, he speaks with their disciples about the root cause of their failure.  According to Jesus, it all goes back to a lack of faith.  “It’s because you have ‘little faith,’” he says, which seems to be a word that Jesus made up on the spot.  It’s the only time in the New Testament that Jesus ever uses the expression.  Then he goes on to tell them, “If you only had faith as tiny as a mustard seed (the tiniest of seeds in Jesus’ day), you could say to this mountain, ‘Move over there’ and it would.  Nothing would be impossible for you!”

I think most of us here this morning would love to be able to move some “mountains” in our lives.  I think so many of us are so frustrated with how no matter how much we try to put our shoulders to those responsibilities and expectations that have fallen to us, it seems that even on our best days we can’t make them budge, not even an inch.  One of the reasons I still love to cut my own grass is that it’s one of the few things in my life that yield instant results.  But if I could start moving those “mountains” that are in my life – the mountains of meeting expectations, the mountains of moving this church in an even more Christ-honoring direction, the mountains of reaching unchurched people with the good news of the gospel – if I could start moving those “mountains,” I would wake up each day energized and enthusiastic.  I would wake up each day empowered and ecstatic.  And I would imagine that you feel the same way about the “mountains” that are in your life.

But what confuses me about Jesus’ teaching is the difference between what he calls “little faith” and what he calls “mustard-seed faith.”  On one hand, Jesus chides us for having faith that is not big enough, but on the other hand, he promises that if we had faith as small as a mustard seed, we would be able to move mountains; nothing would be impossible.  Is there a contradiction in Jesus’ teaching?

No, there isn’t, because Jesus isn’t talking so much about the size of our faith as he is about the focus of our faith.  In other words, the reason the disciples’ faith was deemed small was because it was focused on self.  Notice their question to Jesus: “Why couldn’t we drive it out?”  “Where did we go wrong?”  “What’s the matter with us?”  Too much of the time we rely on our own power, our own talent, our own ingenuity, and, like the disciples, we only bring Jesus into the equation when nothing else we know to do works.

But what Jesus is talking about here is a willingness on our part to begin with his help and to begin with his power so that whatever measure of faith we possess, when we start out with Jesus, mountains move and victories are won.

In his book, A Cup of Coffee at the Soul Café, Leonard Sweet tells the story of the making of a film by two British filmmakers.  The film was about street people, and in particular their daily routines.  Some were alcoholics, and others were mentally disturbed.  Others were articulate, and some were unintelligible. 

One of England’s leading composers, Gavin Bryars, had agreed to help with the audio background of the film.  During his work, he became aware of a constant undercurrent of sound whenever one certain man was being filmed.  At first, it sounded like mere gibberish.  But after removing the background noise, Bryars made the discovery that the old man was simply singing.

Bryars learned that what distinguished this man was his singing.  He would sing for hours, singing the same song over and over.  His voice was untrained, but it never wavered from pitch.  Day after day, he would repeat the same simple phrase over and over.

One day at his office, Bryars looped together the first 13 bars of homeless man’s song, preparing to add some orchestration to the piece.  He left the loop running while he went downstairs for a cup of coffee.  And when he returned, he found his fellow workers listening in subdued silence, and a few even weeping.  The homeless man’s quiet, trembling voice had leaked from the recording room and had transformed the adjacent offices.  Here is what he sang:

Jesus’ blood never failed me yet,
Never failed me yet.
Jesus blood never failed me yet.
There’s one thing I know
For he loves me so,
Jesus’ blood never failed me yet.

On the surface it may seem that the man’s little faith hasn’t done him much good, though I would imagine that he would most likely beg to differ.  But when that little, mustard-sized piece of faith is joined with that of others, something beautiful always comes from it.  And when enough of us begin to do it, mountains move and miracles happen.

Someone has said that the definition of a Christian is, “someone who loves the impossible.” 

Do you?  If so, it’s because you’ve come to trust in Jesus instead of self, and you’ve come to discover what everyone longs to know – my life can really matter.  It can matter because of Jesus, who’s never failed anyone who trusts him yet, and for that matter, never will.