Small things. Atomic power.

I mean, if you think about it, it’s a weird response. ‘Increase our faith,’ is a straightforward request. The response is anything but straightforward: if your faith morphed like an AI graphic into a single mustard seed, it could command trees to uproot themselves and go for a paddle in the sea. And the trees would do it.

Weird. Not natural. And maybe that’s the point, Jesus is talking about faith’s supernatural power; even in its smallest expression, faith’s atomic power to disrupt the natural order of things so that we can see ourselves and the world in a new, more complete light.

But let’s consider the request. The apostles approach Jesus and ask him to increase their faith. There can be a tendency to imagine the apostles as plaster cast saints with plaster cast faiths. But that’s not the case. At times, their faith was strong and robust, at other times, weak and riddled with uncertainties. In other words, like your faith, like mine. But they show us that we, too, can come to Jesus and ask him to ‘increase our faith’. There is consolation in that.

It’s one thing to know something notionally, in your head. Of course, the work of the intellect, of reason, is of immense value. For example, consider the smallest article of faith that we find in the scriptures: Jesus – is – Lord.

Now, you can dissect those three words, put them under the microscope of your mind and study them. That is important work. But it is our interior attitude to those three words, to take that knowledge to your heart, that allows them to live, to sing. It’s there, that ‘Jesus is Lord’ becomes the heartbeat of your lives. There, we contemplate their beauty and significance. There, they take flesh, calm fears, nurture hope, give strength and courage.

Someone once noted that masterpieces come from the smallest beginnings. From just twelve notes come every song, hymn and symphony ever composed. From just four primary colours comes every painting lining the walls of every art gallery throughout the world. From twelve apostles who believed that ‘Jesus is Lord’ came the Church, Christ’s continuing presence in every age and culture.

Small things. Atomic power.

On August 21, 2005, I was in Cologne, Germany. I wasn’t alone. I was there with a million young people from 193 countries, gathered for the 20th World Youth Day. In his final homily, Pope Benedict, reminded us that believing that Jesus is Lord is ‘like inducing nuclear fission in the very heart of being — the victory of love over hatred, the victory of love over death. Only this intimate explosion of good conquering evil can then trigger off the series of transformations that little by little will change the world.’

When we accept the gift of faith, we are uprooted from the dominant idolatries of the culture around us: the addictive worship of the fittest and the slickest as we scroll through feeds and reels. We are planted in the life-giving waters of the Spirit, the waters of our baptism. When we declare ‘Jesus is Lord’ we become open to the demands of justice and peace, to those transformations of love that make us witnesses to hope for those who live in the shadows of despair.

True story. There was a religious sister who worked as a midwife in a local hospital. One day, a teenage woman came into the hospital. She was very ill and many months pregnant, although she was not even aware of the fact.

‘You know, you’re pregnant,’ the sister told her. The young woman was shocked. She had no family, no support, no promise of a future. The sister made a promise to be with the young woman throughout the pregnancy and beyond. Each week, they would meet and the sister would explain how the young woman was to nourish her pregnant body, how to prepare for the birth, how to live her promise.

The baby was born. A boy. With the midwife’s guidance, the teenage mum learned to feed the baby, to nurse and wash him, to care and love him. Then one week, she didn’t show up. Without a word, the teenager and her baby vanished into the indifferent, cold city.

Six years later, the midwife received an invitation in the post: ‘I am sorry I waited so long to thank you, but I wanted to surprise you. I wanted to be like you, since you showed me so much love.’

The invitation was to a graduation ceremony. A Bachelor of Science degree in nursing. First class honours.

Small things. Atomic power. Jesus is Lord. Accept the gift.