'Root systems and the power of faith' - Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity, 11.00am Sung Eucharist, 5 October 2025

Earlier this year a tree in the Cathedral’s memorial garden had to be cut down, leaving a large stump.   What happened next was unexpected, in that dozens of saplings appeared all over the garden, growing up from the extensive underground root system.  I was reminded of a line from the film, Jurassic Park: ‘life will find a way’; the extent and persistence of the roots below ground and the saplings above ground being simultaneously impressive and annoying.    I won’t go into the details of how this is being sorted out; simply to say it is difficult and time consuming.

In today’s Gospel, we hear the command, ‘Be uprooted!’   This in relation to the only mulberry tree mentioned in the New Testament.   Why a mulberry?   Hard to say for sure, but I did discover that this tree was known for being longlived, and its deep and extensive roots.  

Jesus names the tree in responding to a heartfelt request from his disciples: ‘Increase our faith!’   They have just heard him on the necessity of forgiveness, even to multiple offenders, and a whole variety of other challenging teaching.  How can they live up to this, they wonder? They know they are insufficient for all that Christ calls them to, and so ask for greater resources.  Who can blame them?   I feel like this myself; I am guessing the our Archbishop designate Sarah does too, and perhaps most or all of you.  

I mean this not only in relation to really difficult jobs, and the most costly and difficult aspects of following Jesus, but also because of the nature of the world we live in.  The appalling attack on Heaton Park synagogue in Manchester is a reminder of the deep rootedness of anti-semitism, while the undercover investigation into the Metropolitan Police reveals how hard it is to uproot racism and misogyny.  As we enjoy our Fairtrade breakfast or brunch today, we are reminded of the millions of farmers and workers facing unfair prices, unsafe conditions and exploitative business practices.  Amongst the serious issues here are child labour and (especially worth noticing as the Creationtide season draws to a close) deforestation.

So yes, Lord, please increase our faith that we might do something about these things, and the many other difficulties we face: personal, political; local, national and international.

Jesus’s reply to the disciples is intended to be reassuring.   They have asked for an increase.  He gives an example of something extremely small.  A mustard seed, which is round, more or less, and between one and three millimetres in diameter.  It is not the smallest of all seeds, but the point should be clear: it’s not the quantitive size of one’s faith that matters, but in what it consists.  We’re not talking about having more or less self-confidence, or more or less fitness for the Great South Run. Faith is something different:  In Luke’s Gospel, it is always related to God, and the way God acts in and through our Lord Jesus Christ.   In Chapter 7, for example, Jesus commends a centurion for his faith, for saying this: ‘Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof… But only speak the word, and let my servant be healed.’

So then, faith is openness to, and trust in, what God is doing in Jesus Christ, and living in the light of that.  In faith, we can dare take on the deep rooted problems of the world, knowing that we are on the right side of history, that God is with us, that God’s Kingdom will come in its fullness.   Yes, like the prophet Habakkuk there will be times we want to cry out, ‘O Lord, how long?’   But we are likewise called to keep the faith like Habakkuk does, even when, despite his and our prayers, destruction and violence continues.  For he does not give up, but stays at his watch post on the ramparts, expectantly waiting upon what God will next say to him.  Forin his own words he knows ‘there is still a vision for the appointed time’; like Paul in our second reading, he knows the One in whom he has put his trust.

God, writes Paul, ‘did not give us a spirit of cowardice’, that we might succumb to despair, but ‘rather a spirit of power and of love and of self discipline’.  As an exemplar of this, I offer you perhaps my favourite news story of the year – the story of the three Austrian nuns in their eighties, who ran away from their retirement home and went back to their former convent.  In September, nine months after, against their wills, they had been forced out of, literally uprooted from, Schloss Goldenstein convent, they returned, helped by a group of former students from the school in which they had all taught. 

For the nuns, the convent was the place of their spiritual grounding, a place of peace, communion with God, and of religious discipline.  It was a place of mutual encouragement, of longing for God’s Kingdom.   They felt drawn to return, even if their physical needs would be harder to meet than in their care home.   It would have been easy for them to feel that going back was about as likely as a mulberry tree being uprooted and planted in the sea, but they had the kind of faith of which Jesus spoke.  Faith the size of a mustard seed, but capable of growing into something substantial, drawing others into its orbit.  Jesus’s other reference to a mustard seedhas it becoming a large tree, with all kinds of birds sheltering in its branches.  

This tree also has an extensive root system, but one that is nourished by the love of God.  It speaks of being rooted and grounded in God, in a way that can sustain us in grappling with all those difficult things I mentioned at the start of this sermon. 

One thing I didn’t mention was modern slavery; human trafficking and the exploitation of others.   The second part of our Gospel reading today refers to slaves, in what at first sight may seem a rather disturbing way.  This is because the hearersof the parable are invited to put themselves in the place of a slave owner, and to reflect on how they would treat a slave coming in from the fields.   But by the end, the real point is clear: we are being invited to consider how we understand our calling to be servants of God.   How do we expect God to treat us, when we have done our best to follow in the footsteps of Jesus?

Jesus’s disciples ask him for more faith.   In today’s world, we might be tempted to ask him for more praise.   Most of us, I suspect, feel unappreciated for what we do, and that is understandable.  But the point here is that the God we know in Jesus Christ is not indebted to us; we are indebted to Him.  In Him is found the abundance of God, the gifts we encounter in creation, the unmerited grace we are granted in following him.  

Abiding in Him, being rooted in Him, is the key to uprooting all that is destructive and harmful in our world.  Those first disciples knew that.  So did the octogenarian nuns returning to their spiritual home.  They also all knew their own frailties and vulnerabilities.  Being called to follow Christ is a joyful and wonderful thing, and His way of mercy and forgiveness is the only way to the healing of our hurts and our hearts, but it is also true that Christ is a challenging Master in a challenging world.

So this morning, now and as we eat our Fairtrade breakfast, let us ask of our Lord, with those first disciples and countless others since; please, Lord, ‘Increase our faith.’  AMEN.