In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

This morning, beloved, we’ve heard the shortest and least colorful of the three accounts of the man who brings his son to Jesus. We get this in the sequence of Matthew. The sequence of Mark is done during Lent, which is very short. I know it seems long when we go through Lent, but actually it’s rather short. So some of the more colorful stories in Mark, alas, we don’t hear in the Sunday readings. Matthew gets quite a bit more time, but Matthew’s stories are not nearly so colorful or so detailed. So this morning it’s quite pared down.

This sequence is twofold. First of all, this is the story that immediately follows the Transfiguration, isn’t it? When we come down from the mount of Transfiguration that we find this situation of the father with the little boy. So this follows immediately, then, on the gospel readings prescribed for this past week, the Feast of Transfiguration. In the Sunday sequence, it follows immediately on the story we had last Sunday, which is Peter’s attempt to walk on the water.

Three things are similar between last Sunday’s gospel and this Sunday’s gospel. One is the emphasis on faith, isn’t it? What does Jesus say to Peter when Peter starts to sink and he cries out? He says, “O you of little faith!” You see what faith is supposed to do in the Christian life? Enable you to walk on water—which will give you some idea of how little faith we have. In this morning’s gospel, what does it say faith should enable you to do? To move mountains. Actually, I’ve seen people do things far, far more difficult than walk on water and infinitely simpler than moving mountains.

The third thing—oh, that’s the first; second is the prayer of desperation. I call it prayer of desperation not because it despairs but because somebody is facing despair when he makes this kind of prayer; that’s what we mean by “prayer of desperation.” It’s like the expression “forlorn hope.” If you feel the “forlorn,” you don’t feel the “hope.” I think most of you know that “forlorn hope” is a battle which there is no reasonable expectation of survival; that’s why you call it “forlorn hope.” We know all about those in the South.

And third, this morning, this picture of Jesus, and Jesus able to do all things—we’ll take these in order. Faith. Now, what is faith? As a psychological experience and state, faith is the orientation of the inner being, and, understood in this way, faith is the distinguishing characteristic of how a person lives. How many of you this morning would actually be here—how many of you would be here if you had no faith? In fact, I will ask for a show of hands. I say that—this seems a little funny to you, but in fact I remember when I was first assigned a church, of the insurrection, down in Oklahoma City. It wasn’t called that at the time, but only after I was there for a while that that’s what they called it. [Laughter]

I had an eight o’clock Mass every Sunday, and just a few people came, perhaps 20, something like that. There were always three Masses at that Anglican parish: the eight o’clock, the nine o’clock, the eleven o’clock, with ten o’clock Sunday school. But the people at the eight o’clock Mass were fairly regular, and there was one couple in the front row, they were there every Sunday. I remember their name, and I suspect they’re not alive any more, because they were a little bit up in years; that is to say, they were in their 50s.

I went over to visit them after I’d been there for perhaps a month. I went over to visit, and I sat down to talk with them. And I said, “You know, Ed, I sense that you’re having some trouble with me. I just have that feeling you have some trouble; you’re having some trouble with me. I’ve been here a month now, and I just… The language coming from your body suggests that you’re dissatisfied.”

He says, “Yes.” He says, “You read me correctly. I am dissatisfied. I am having a lot of trouble with you.”

I said, “Would you kind of spell that out? because I have lots of things I need to correct in my life, and I’m far from perfection, so if there’s something I can do… Just be comfortable…”

He says, “My problem with you is you believe all this stuff!”

I said, “What stuff, Ed?”

“God! You actually believe there is a God! And not only that, you believe Jesus suffered and died for your sins and rose again from the dead. You believe everything in that creed!” He says, “And that is obvious!”

And I said, “Well…” [Laughter] I said, “Ed, you are here at church. You are at church every Sunday morning at eight o’clock, and you and your wife always come forward. You’re the first ones to receive holy communion, at eight o’clock every Sunday.” I said, “Tell me what you believe.”

He said, “I believe that there probably is a God, and he perhaps made us—perhaps. But he certainly hasn’t had anything to do with us since he did it.” Well, I recognized classical Deism there! In other words, he believed a great deal less than the Founding Fathers of the country, all of whom partly were at least theists; they all believed in divine providence, at least.

And I said, “Well, Ed, what about Jesus?”

He said, “There may have been a Jesus as a moral teacher, but that’s it.”

And I said, “And the afterlife?”

He says, “There is no afterlife. When you die, it’s all over. And you’re rewarded in your children. If you live a good, moral life, you’re rewarded in your children.”

I raised some faint suggestion about a good moral life depends on certain other things, and I said, “You know, Ed, I see why you’re having trouble with me.” Well, the next thing I knew, he had complained to me about the bishop—or complained to the bishop about me, rather. So I spoke to the bishop about this and watch the bishop’s jaw drop when I told him what was really at work.

See, none of you put up your hands this morning. You all see there’s a certain logic. You’re here because your inner being is oriented in a certain direction. I have no idea why Ed was there. I do know that he was on the standing committee of the diocese, which means he was one of the ones who approved whether someone went to seminary or not, or got ordained or not. He had been chairman of the parish council, what they called vestry. That was all clear to me, but it’s obvious to us that there’s a great divide, a great breakdown inside.

We pray in the psalms, “Bless the Lord, O my soul, let all that is within me bless his holy name.” All that is within me. In other words, there’s no division. Faith means a completely radical act and a total radical orientation of being. Faith is a new way of being in the universe. Hebrews 11 defines faith as “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” We make decisions inside, in our hearts, on the basis of things we do not see, but the evidence of which is receptible.

The model of this kind of faith in the eleventh chapter of Hebrews is a man by the name of Enoch. Enoch pleased God because that’s the only faith he had. Enoch was a cave man, but what did he believe about God, according to Hebrews? He believed that God is and that he is the rewarder of them that seek him. That’s all he believed. He didn’t know anything else; nothing else had been revealed. He believed that God is and that he’s the rewarder of them who seek him.

One must seek God. One looks at the world, makes a decision—there is a God, there has to be a God—the world makes absolutely no sense whatsoever and science has done nothing whatever to challenge that thesis. The world makes no sense at all forever unless there’s some way to explain the obvious teleological orientation of existence. Somebody had something in mind before this world existed. Enoch believed that God is and he has rewarded them who diligently seek him, which means faith also means fidelity.

Faith must be sustained. Faith must never be doubted. And I know I’m being implicitly critical of a lot of people when I say that, that faith must not be doubted. You know, since Descartes, there is a strong tendency within all philosophy, and I’m afraid even within religious philosophy, to doubt whatever can be doubted—otherwise you’re not being honest: if you don’t doubt that which is open to doubt, you’re not being honest by doubting it. Fairly common.

Can you explain to me one marriage that would have survived on that basis? One marriage? If your spouse can be doubted, you must doubt her. If it’s possible to doubt your husband, he must be doubted. Would anybody take that as a principle for a happy marriage? May I have a show of hands on that? [Laughter] Why, then, would we presume that you can take that attitude toward God? Of course the identity of God can be doubted. It takes a great deal of effort, but it can be doubted. I don’t know how many 16-year-olds tell me, “I don’t believe in God any more; I’m an atheist.” My answer is: “You’re way too young to be an atheist. It takes years of study to be an atheist!” [Laughter]

Faith is the orientation of one’s being to God. We use faith a lot to apply to all religions. In fact, it only really applies to two religions. Only two religions even know what’s meant by faith, and that’s Judaism and the daughter religion, Christianity. “Faith” is a biblical word. It’s really not proper to speak of something like Hinduism or Buddhism as a faith; no faith is required. These are religious systems or religious theories; nothing’s required. The Buddhist can be a very fine Buddhist without being at all clear about the existence of God. In fact, Gautama seems to have been very doubtful whether there is a God.

Let’s take the second point, which is prayer. Faith is best expressed in prayer. We have Peter’s prayer last week, “Lord, save me,” and then the prayer of the man at the bottom of the Mount of Transfiguration this morning, “Lord, save my son.” In both cases, there’s a certain desperation in the prayer. Prayer is the essential act of faith. Sometimes this prayer expresses faith under trial. This is one of the reasons why Christians should constantly be praying the psalms, because so many of the psalms are prayers of someone whose faith is being tested and tried.

A deep familiarity with the prayers of the psalms can give great shape to the soul. We don’t—we should not wait around until we’re desperate in order to pray. Some people do that; they only pray when they’re desperate. We should be in the habit of praying all the time, so the prayer—I’m thinking particularly of the prayer of the psalms—gives shape and structure to the soul. And this requires a lot of discipline.

There’s no such thing as an instant fix in the matter of prayer. I’m rather disappointed sometimes when I hear well-known Orthodox Christians, experts on the question of prayer, speak for hours about prayer and never mention the psalter at all. That’s not the teaching of the Church Fathers; it’s certainly not the teaching of the monastic Fathers. When the monastic novice showed up to join the monastery, what’s the first thing he was—what’s the first task he was given? Well, memorize the psalter! Just memorize it. Once you’ve memorized the psalter, we’ll work on other things, but first of all memorize the psalter. In other words, you give shape to your soul by making your soul absorb God’s inspired word in these prayers.

St. Athanasius wrote a marvelous letter on this, which I remember reading when I was 18 years old, and it got me thinking a lot. He runs through the—almost all the psalms, and explains what psalms are to be prayed at what times, and he shows how the prayers of the psalter express every possible imagination, every possible sentiment of the human heart. So I exhort you, by way of expressing faith, to learn the psalms, one by one. Just absorb them into your heart and your mind so they become your own words.

And thirdly, biblical faith is transpersonal. It’s always an I-thou. I still recommend an old book called I [and] Thou by Martin Buber. It’s a foundational work. It was written I think before I was born, but it’s a foundational work. The biblical religion is “I’m me and you’re God,” and God says, “I’m God, and you’re you. Now let’s talk.” So completely different—totally different, radically different!—from the religions of India. I spoke about Buddhism just a moment ago; it’s not necessary to believe in God at all in Buddhism. And the goal in Hinduism is what we would call the mysticism of absorption, where I become so completely one in god that I lose my own identity. Remember the goal of Hindu prayer is “tat twam asi’: this thou art.” Tat twam asi’. So that the soul returns to god as a drop of water returns to the ocean, or a beam of the sun returns to the sun. See, that’s a mysticism of absorption; it’s radically at odds with biblical prayer. In biblical prayer, there’s no mysticism of absorption. God is always God, and I’m always me. Now we can talk. Biblical prayer is communication.

In this respect, my brothers and sisters, faith is related to gratitude. God is God and I’m me, and the first sentiment I have toward him is gratitude. So it’s very important to look back into the face of God and do it frequently, and simply say thank you. Just thank you. I would not be here except you decided to create me—thank you; thank you. Just thank him for that, that you exist. Thank him that you have a mind that is made in his own image and likeness in order that you may know him. Thank you, because he gave you a heart with which to love him. Constantly give thanks to God and live in fellowship with God. Faith is expressed by gratitude. We’re thankful to God that he made us and gave us the knowledge of himself. Amen.