We now come to some of the most provocative passages dealing with faith: Matthew 17:14-21 in which Jesus casts out a demon his disciples are unable to cast out; Matthew 21:18-22 and Mark 11:12-14, 20-26 in which Jesus curses the fig tree; and Luke 17:5-6 in which the disciples ask for increased faith. In these passages, Jesus describes the sheer power available to those with the smallest amount of faith:
… if you have faith as a mustard seed, you shall say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it shall move; and nothing shall be impossible to you. (Matthew 17:20)
… if you have faith, and do not doubt, you shall not only do what was done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and cast into the sea,’ it shall happen. And all things you ask in prayer, believing, you shall receive. (Matthew 21:21b,22)
Have faith in God. Truly I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and cast into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says is going to happen, it shall be granted him. Therefore I say to you, all things for which you pray and ask, believe that you have received them, and they shall be granted you. (Mark 11:22b-24)
If you had faith like a mustard seed, you would say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and be planted in the sea’; and it would obey you. (Luke 17:6)
One of the most interesting aspects of these accounts is the fact that Jesus does not qualify his statements. In two of the accounts all that is necessary is faith like (or as) a mustard seed. In the other two accounts one only need to believe (or have faith) and not doubt. Now, to many, these statements must necessarily be hyperbolic and most will add de facto constraints on Jesus’ statements. For example, the Ryrie Study Bible includes a footnote for the Matthew 17 passage stating, “The will of God, of course, governs all things, including this promise,” and for the Mark 11 passage: “This principle is qualified by Christ in other teaching (Matt. 6:10) and in His own life (Mark 14:36).” In the latter footnote the first reference is the Lord’s Prayer in which we are to pray for God’s will to be done and the second is Christ’s prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane prior to his crucifixion in which he asks God to “remove this cup” but then defers to God’s will over his own.
But, in fact, Jesus does not qualify his statements to the disciples. If, as Ryrie’s footnote maintains, “the will of God, of course, governs all things,” then we have a few potential problems. The first is, of course, that God is responsible for evil since all things are governed by his will; but that is outside the scope of this article. The second is why tell us to pray that God’s will be done if God’s will governs all things? I shall return to this later. Lastly, Jesus is, to put it mildly, not being very fair. Imagine telling your daughter that she can have whatever she wants to eat but then deny her ice cream, cake, a lollipop, and a chocolate bar because you want her to have Brussels sprouts. If you already have in mind what she is going to eat, why give her the choice? If what happens is subjugated to God’s will then why tell us we can do whatever we want?
One way out of the last dilemma is simply to have your daughter ask for Brussels sprouts when that’s what you want her to have. In other words, have her desires coincide with your desires. It is precisely because there is no qualification that the desires of those having faith align with God’s desires that the desires of those having faith will, by definition, align with God’s desires. What Jesus is really telling us is what it takes to be like God: faith like a mustard seed, belief without doubt. Ram Dass takes this idea even further. In The Only Dance There Is, which is a transcription of two of his lectures, he says:
When Christ says “Had ye but faith, ye could move mountains,” he’s not putting you on. This is not some lovely metaphor saying it’s hard just to lead a good clean life. That isn’t what it’s about at all. He’s just telling you how it is: that were you at a certain level of consciousness you could move a mountain, literally. But the way it happens is very far out. It only happens when you have transcended that in you which is separate from the mountain, so that you are, in fact, the mountain, and then you move. … To the extent that you are the mountain that moves, you are also the being that put the mountain there in the first place. He neglected to say that could you move mountains, you probably wouldn’t because you put it there in the first place. (page 76, 77)
Not only are we like God, we are God. Faith puts us in a state where we realize that we are the one who put the mountain there in the first place. Either way, whether we have the same desires as God or we are God, this is a very powerful statement yet deceptively simple. “Have faith in God” and your desires will be those of God. “If you have faith like a mustard seed” you will realize that you are one with God. What could be more simple? Yet nothing could be harder for us to comprehend or achieve.
[ Parts I, II, III ]
Our Father
I’ve been motivated to look at The Lord’s Prayer in some depth. We never (or rarely) recited this prayer in the church I grew up in and, for the most part, these were just verses that I memorized at one point. There was not a lot of significance attached to them. But, as I approach Christianity anew, after several decades of separation from it, and under the influence of Jungian Depth Psychology, something is drawing me to rethink this model prayer which Jesus has given us.
I want to start with the first two words: “Our Father.”
This signifies a change in the human psyche and how we approach and relate to God. The Old Testament was the story of our infant years where God was a (seemingly) capricious, loving/hating being out there somewhere, up there in the sky somewhere. Starting with Jesus, we now relate to God as child and, sometimes, like a teenager. We have a more conscious relationship with him and he treats us less arbitrarily (at least it seems like that to us).
Consider an infant who is crying because she is hungry and her father is offering a bottle but she really wants her mother’s breast. The infant is confused and hurt that she’s not getting what she wants and her father must seem so cruel. At other times, the father puts her in her mother’s arms and she gets exactly what she wants. There is no rhyme nor reason to this. Why does her father not always give her to her mother when she cries out of hunger? Why does he sometimes (seemingly) punish her by only offering that wretched bottle? The issue is that she has no other way of relating because she does not have enough consciousness.
Now, skip ahead to a 4 or 14 year old. Now, the child can address his father as “Father” and ask for exactly what he wants. The child is capable of understanding, in some cases, why the father gives what he does. With the child’s increased consciousness, the father’s actions seem less arbitrary. And this is where Jesus was taking us. He was showing that we have an increased consciousness and, therefore, can relate to God in a different way.
What this two-word phrase also identifies is our relation to God in an essential way. That is, by calling God “Father” we are acknowledging that we are of the same essence. My daughter has my genes and is made up of the same things that I am. We have matching DNA. Our basic reality or essence is the same. In the Old Testament, or as an infant, we do not recognize this. We cannot grasp the idea that this great, powerful being who gives us what he wants to give and not what we want to receive is of the same stuff as we are. But with increased consciousness comes increased awareness of what we are and what he is. We can recognize the imago Dei, the “in our likeness” that is within us from God. “Our Father” is not only said out of respect or out of love. It is also said out of identification — we are of the same essence as God. We share the same DNA.
A local church has a quote from Hafiz on their sign: “Little by little you will turn into God.” We do turn into our fathers. How many times have I done something or said something or caught a glimpse of myself and thought, “My God! My father does that! I’m turning into my father.” And this is the case with God, our Father. But it’s also the reality that we already are our father. Our DNA tells us that from the moment of conception. What appears to be a “turning into” is really nothing more than a “realizing that we already are.”