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 ploughing 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
Have you ever found yourself wondering if your faith is enough? Like no matter how much you want to believe — and trust God — you still feel small, weak, or uncertain. Especially when life gets really real. That’s exactly where the apostles find themselves in today’s Gospel from Luke. They cry out to Jesus: “Increase our faith!” They long for more — more trust, more strength, more power to follow him, to live the life God is calling them into.
Because our faith, can at times, feel elusive — fragile, and yes, even inadequate. We struggle to hold onto the little faith we have when life pulls the rug out from under our feet, when grief knocks the wind out of us, when a family member betrays us, when prayers seem to to go unanswered. So we ask, like they did: How do we find faith that’s enough? How do we grow beyond this sense of smallness?
You see, this is our story too. It’s the quiet whisper we carry in our hearts, you know the one: If I just had more faith... If I just had more faith, my prayers would be answered; If I just had more faith, he would have lived. She would have been healed; If I just had more faith, I would be stronger Better. Braver. Holier; If I just had more faith, I would know what to do; If I just had more faith, Life would be different. But that persistent whisper is not faith — it’s fear — It’s fear dressed in religious longing.
Maybe, like the apostles, you’ve prayed for more faith and felt like nothing changed. Maybe you’ve doubted God’s closeness in some of your darkest moments, The death of a loved one. The loss of a job. The breakup of a marriage. The loneliness that cripples. Maybe you’ve believed that faith is something reserved for the spiritually gifted, the unwavering, the saintly few.
But let me tell you the truth: Faith doesn’t have to be big. It just has to be real. The disciples didn’t pretend. They brought their smallness to Jesus and asked for more. And in return, Jesus gave them not quantity, but clarity: “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it will obey you.” Even the tiniest seed of faith, if living and true, can move the unmovable. Faith is a relationship — an opening of the heart, a letting go, a leaning in. It is the slow, sacred act of saying “yes” to the One who already knows you, inside and out, and loves you still.
Let us not confuse faith with certainty. Or agreement on theology, or doctrines or intellectual assent to mystery. Faith is like a marriage. the binding of two hearts in love and trust. To be faithful is to say, “I am yours, and you are mine,” over and over again — in joy and in sorrow, in silence and in song, in sickness and in health in life and in death. “I am yours, and you are mine,” Faith does not always change the world around us. But it does change us. It may not prevent the storm, but gives us an anchor and sail, to weather the storm. It does not undo the past, but teaches us to walk through it with mercy and meaning. It does not guarantee the future, but opens our hands to receive it without fear.
Faith, is not how strong we feel, but how willing we are to trust God’s love in and through our smallness. And Jesus goes one step further: He tells us faith is service. Humble, everyday obedience. Like a servant who goes about doing the work simply because it needs to be done — not for reward, but out of trust and love. So the answer isn’t to become “super-faithful” overnight. It’s to start right where you are. To trust God with the seed you already carry — however small it may seem — and to serve with a quiet courage and an open heart.
Faith is how we rise each morning when grief has gutted us. It is how we feed the hungry, house the homeless, forgive the one who hurt us — again and again. Faith is how we sit in silence when there are no words. How we weep with the broken and sing with the joyful. It is the breath between our prayers — the waiting, the watching, the wondering. And when the day is done — when all we’ve done is love imperfectly, serve quietly, trust haltingly — We simply say, “We have done only what we ought to have done.” No more. No less. Because faith is not about grand achievements. It is the way we move and breathe and live. It is the eyes through which we see, the hands through which we give, the voice through which we bless.
So no — Jesus does not need to give you more faith. He has already given you enough. Even if it is only the size of a seed — a mustard seed — that is enough to move mountains, to mend hearts, to carry you through. The seed is already planted. It is Christ Himself, alive within you. You do not need more. You only need to say yes — yes to the seed, yes to the love, yes to the life already growing. The question is not, “How much faith do I have?” The question is, “How am I living the faith I already do have?”
So here’s your invitation for this week: Choose one small step of faith. Just one. Maybe it’s a prayer you’ve been afraid to speak. Maybe it’s a hard conversation you’ve been putting off. Maybe it’s a simple act of service to someone in need. It doesn’t have to be dramatic. Remember — it only takes a seed.
Then step into that moment with trust that God’s love is working with you. Don’t measure success by how “big” your faith feels, or how visible the results. Measure it by your willingness to serve humbly, trust deeply, love freely. And remind yourself — every single day — that faith is not about having it all together. It is a relationship with a loving God who receives even the tiniest “yes” and grows it into something beautiful.