A couple of weeks ago I showed you the new logo for the ELCIC. One aspect of the new logo caught my attention: The bird with a tree branch in its beak.

It took me back to the story of Noah and the flood in the book of Genesis. After the ark with Noah, his family, and all creatures of the earth onboard had been sailing on the flooded earth for over a month, with no land in sight, a dove he had sent out regularly finally returned with a freshly plucked olive leaf in its beak (Genesis 8:6-12) – a sign that the waters had receded! Even though still not visible to Noah, there was land somewhere in the distance over the horizon. There was hope.

The branch in the bird’s beak takes up nearly half of the circle in the new logo for the church. Of course, the dove appears elsewhere in the bible and Christian tradition – at Jesus’ baptism (Mark 1:10), for example and as a sign of the coming Holy Spirit from the heavens.

Its prominence in the logo suggests what our faith today means, and maybe what it needs the most. I have a stained glass depicting this scene hanging on the window of my home office. It’s right above my computer screen so it’s in my line of sight when I look up.

Maybe you feel flooded, drowning, flailing about in waters too deep. Maybe you are in over your head with worries, stresses, a fragile state of mental health, hanging in the balance. Maybe your anxiety and fear are off the charts. Maybe your grief and loss go so deep you don’t believe you will ever recover. Maybe you see no hope for the future in this complicated world. Maybe you despair over all the violence, death and war in the world today.

Maybe all you long for, all you need, is for that dove to land on the railing of the boat you are sailing with a leaf in its beak.

Today’s Gospel starts with a small seed. Jesus teaches his disciples about what God is all about in this world, in this life. Because sometimes it will grow. Sometimes the smallest thing will become the largest of all (Mark 4:26-34), providing shelter for all the creatures of the air.

Elsewhere in the Gospel when Jesus teaches us not to worry, he points to the birds of the air showing how much God cares even for the littlest of sparrows. And in his sermon (Matthew 6) Jesus addresses his disciples with the words: “Ye of little faith.” Ye, of little faith.

For the longest time I had taken his address to be somewhat of a slight, a scold, a put down from Jesus, a test they had failed, coming up short again. I imagined Jesus shaking his head, disappointed at his disciples’ thick headedness. “Ye of little faith.” Dim-wits.

But taking these passages together, I have since revised my interpretation.

You see, Jesus expresses the same in the story of Jesus calming the storm on Lake Galilee. In some English translations, you find an extra word added, “oh”. As if to drive home the finger-wagging interpretation: “Oh, ye, of little faith!” (Matthew 8:26, English Standard Version).

But in Greek, that little exclamation “Oh” is not found in the text. It is, simply, “You, of little faith.” Furthermore, the preposition “of” is also not there. So, the phrase can be translated, “You have a little faith.”

“Ye of little faith” is not a critical, condescension. But a positive affirmation. “Ye of little faith!”

Because the “earth produces of itself” anyway, that’s all you need.

Because God makes the seed grow in the first place, that’s all you need.

Just a little bit of faith. That’s a good start! It’s all you need.

So quick we are to remove ourselves from consideration, even before we begin. So quick we are to dismiss ourselves, put ourselves down, and say, “Oh, I don’t have enough faith. I’m a bad person. I can’t.” Feeling this, admitedly, is completely understandable and needs to be validated – life is tough after all. We can’t bypass our initial feelings and thoughts.

But can we not at least consider that Jesus affirms what little faith we think we have, to be just what we need? Can we not imagine that Jesus is right there beside us, whispering into our hearts. “Ye, of little faith. I’ve planted a seed in your heart. It wants to grow. It will grow. Just trust me. Trust in God’s love and grace for you, ye of little faith.”

Ye of little faith is a love letter from Jesus. As we walk by faith on this earth, that’s all we got. Just a little, to be sure. But Jesus’ sermon is about the promise that a little bit goes a long way. A little bit is all you need. That small seed is going to grow!

Noah and his family were coming to a new home, after the flood waters receded. On their way, they needed a little sign of hope. That olive leaf in the beak of the dove was all they needed – at the right time and in the right place – to encourage them on the way.

We are on this journey home. Home can be a healing, a changed state of being, a transformed way of behaving and acting in relationship with one another and the world. Home can be a reaffirmation of family, of who is important in your life. Home can be a final destination of a life’s pursuit or in full union with God.

That journey is sometimes hard to make, but we carry on. How?

Staying with the flood image, I am reminded of the story of the little fish swimming up to its mother, all in a panic. “Mama, Mama, what’s water? I gotta find water or I’ll die!”

We live immersed in all that we need but we sometimes have a hard time appreciating and accepting that fact. We miss it not because it is so far away but because, paradoxically, it is so close, closer to us than our being itself (Bourgeault, 2001).

God’s gracious presence is the water in which we swim. And on this journey, we continue on, trusting that when we need it, God will give us a sign of hope to nurture the little seed of faith in our hearts. Just like that little fish swimming desperately in search of water, we, too, in the words of Psalm 103:11, “swim in mercy as in an endless sea”.

Ye, of little faith.

Amen.

Reference:

Bourgeault, C. (2001). Mystical hope: Trusting in the mercy of God. Cowley Publications.