As I have said before, I lived in a monastic community for two years during ordination training and it had a profound effect on me. I was amazed by the commitment these brothers had to one another and to God; how they signed over their own rights, gave up so much, and committed to living, working and worshipping together for the rest of their days. Their commitment was akin to marriage, despite them not knowing who would come after them, nor whether they would be loved down the line. So inspired was I that I knew my Christian journey, going forwards, needed a religious community to fully sustain it. So I began my search for that community.
A year ago this month, after much exploration, study and discernment, I became a member of the Order of the Mustard Seed. I knew I’d found my tribe when I discovered that some members mark their vows with a tattoo — a sign carved into their skin that faith is embodied, not abstract, permanent, not transient. The vows are simple: be true to Christ, be kind to people, and take the gospel to the nations. Nothing spectacular. Just mustard-seed commitments, planted in ordinary life. As a member of the Order of the Mustard Seed, I have been waiting for this gospel passage to come up, but now it has, I feel like I’ve never read it in my life, even though I clearly have.
The disciples come to Jesus with a very reasonable request: “Increase our faith!” They want more. I recognise that request. Increase my faith Lord – it seems like a good thing to ask. I’m sure they thought if they had more faith, bigger faith, they could really follow him, really make a difference. But Jesus shows them they’ve missed the point. Faith isn’t about size. It isn’t something you can measure or accumulate, like coins in a jar. You don’t need more faith. You need to plant the faith you already have. Ground it in action, love, compassion, and let God bring it to its fullness. We don’t need to do anything other than plant the seed. And then it grows. Seeds are like that.
And then Jesus sharpens the lesson with the parable of the servant. And this is the bit I’m sure I’ve never read… A servant comes in from the fields and is expected to prepare the meal. No thanks. No reward. Just more service. Faith is about simple, humble obedience: doing what is ours to do, doing it fully and to the best of our abilities – humbly and without fanfare – and leaving the rest to God.
And St Francis of Assisi, who the church remembers today, knew this in his bones and embodied this so deeply that his life reads like a commentary on today’s gospel. Francis didn’t wait until he felt like a saint. He planted the small seeds of compassion he had. Early in his faith journey, way before he was Saint Francis, he met a man with leprosy. Instead of running away, he embraced him — and in that moment he discovered Christ. That one act changed everything. The leper changed Francis. And Francis, in turn, became a seed of change for countless others. One simple act, one tiny seed of faith, and the growth and spread and fruit from it resulted in a worldwide movement that inspires and sustains the faith of many. Seeds are like that.
Early on in my discernment process to join the Order of the Mustard Seed I remember really battling with one of the principals of the order. We had to commit to radical hospitality. I recall sharing with my cohort how challenging I found that. That week a few of our unhoused neighbours were causing some mischief and testing my patience and I told my group that hospitality was the area I struggled with the most. We made ourselves feel better by justifying that we didn’t all need to do all things well, we just had to be willing to be used by God, maybe to have the seed of hospitality sown and grown in us, for the benefit of others. Within a month of swearing my oaths with my fellow OMS group we had opened our home to Kennie, and hospitality became something that had taken root and taken over rectory living. Seeds are like that.
Then, on Friday, the 106th Archbishop of Canterbury was announced and the current Bishop of London, Bishop Sarah Mullally became archbishop elect. I am amazed and delighted that there will be a woman leading the more than 85 million members of the worldwide Anglican communion and I can’t imagine the weight of that calling. But I keep considering the simple seeds she planted; when she was ordained priest there was zero chance that women could be bishops, let alone Archbishop. She was a nurse who heard the call to extend her care for others into ordained ministry and she simply said yes. With faith the size of a mustard seed – that the holy God was inviting her into this plan – she stepped across that threshold and had no idea which way the road would lead. She said yes, planted that seed, and God grew God’s next archbishop from it.
From her mustard-seed faith she is doing what is hers to do, and God is doing the rest.
From Francis’ mustard-seed faith he rebuilt the church, encouraged others to come alongside him and help him; he recognised the kinship of all things – preaching to birds and taming wild wolves and crossing battle lines in the crusades to offer peace to the other side. Always simply, always humbly, always just a tiny seed, but planted under the care of the divine gardener, and huge, holy, lifegiving things would grow and spread. Seeds are like that.
And tonight, when we gather in the chapel for our peace vigil, we are also planting mustard seeds. Our prayers may feel small and insignificant against the violence of the world. But so did each of Francis’ actions, I expect. Each step we take feels small; as small as a seed, but small steps, born of love, can change everything, because they grow into so much more.
So, what about us? Like the disciples, we might wish for “more faith.” But Jesus says we don’t need more. We just need to plant what we already have. To ground it in love and compassion. To take the next faithful step — blessing, serving, peace-making, caring for creation. And then let God bring it to fullness. That’s what Francis did. That’s what soon-to-be Archbishop Sarah is doing. That’s what the Order of the Mustard Seed is about. And that is our calling too. Do what is yours. Allow others to do what is theirs. Work together, interconnectedly – us, the world, the created order and the One who creates. All together, in harmony. Each doing our own small acts, planting our own seeds, in love, and together we might just change the world. and while we try, while we join the line of saints who planted their seeds of faith in their own generation, for the benefit of the next, may St Francis pray for us. Amen.
Holy Adventures 