Sermon by the Reverend Junha Kim

Sermon

A faithless and perverse generation.

I have been racking my brain for weeks on how to talk about this message because I know that our current generation, too, could easily be described as faithless and perverse. I know we have contributed to becoming a faithless and perverse generation, and that is not the most uplifting message at first glance.

“O ye of little faith”—what a thing to imply about the parent of a child who is dealing with a condition that doesn’t allow the child to participate in all the normal activities a child should be allowed to do. He can’t attend the same schools, can’t play in the same parks, can’t even sit at the same table to eat together. He has been deemed helpless and cast aside to be left untreated and uncared for, and this parent has finally, finally found some hope in the news that it is possible that a miraculous healer will be coming into town soon, and just maybe this healer would heal the son. Then he finds thousands of people, so it must be possible, and a crowd he will need to wrestle his way through to make it to the disciples, and then they find out they can’t heal his son, so they bring the child directly to Jesus, asking for healing, and Jesus does. But not before complaining about the generation and telling the disciples about their faith.

Faithless and perverse.

Even though I know we are living in a time that is faithless and perverse, even though I know we can feel faithless at times, I read solely hope, rather than condemnation, in these kinds of grievances by Jesus.

Because Jesus wasn’t wrong then, wouldn’t be wrong now, nor is Jesus condemning anyone—not the disciples and especially not the parent or the child.

Instead, I read it with gratitude, grateful to know that the God of the Universe, Creator of All Which is Good, the Creator and Definer of Justice, and love, and peace, was down here on Earth just as incensed and exasperated—how long must I be with you—about the current state of their time as much as I am about the current state of our time now.

Because if the Creator of Justice and physical embodiment of the universe thinks it’s okay to say an entire generation is faithless and perverse, maybe I’m not such a lunatic for thinking that the kind of economic inequality, violent racism, and white supremacy we’re witnessing today, and the kinds of people we allow in positions of national authority and influence, is a fairly definitive marker that we, too, are part of a faithless and perverse generation.

And for the crowds of people who followed Jesus, for the disciples, for myself, this statement is a message that represents hope.

“Yes,” the God of the Universe tells the crowds of people who have been outcast by the community and left without any resources, “you are correct in thinking that you deserve better, you are correct that the law they claim to follow would never allow people to go hungry, untreated, unsheltered, or killed based on the color of your skin, you are correct in seeing your own humanity. Yes, this indeed is a faithless and perverse generation.”

This, “yes” is why those in the crowds were rarely upset by these comments, why the disciples wanted to learn. Because this “yes” is a message of hope and empowerment to a community of people whose faiths and lives have not been able to wield the power that Jesus says it has. Many because their situation forces them to always be treading water, living paycheck to paycheck, and others who have just not yet seen the immense capacity of their faith and power to withstand a way of life when it shaped by the faithless and perverse.

And so, Jesus revealed to the crowds, to the masses, to the people, to the disciples, and reveals to us, the power of our faith to make the impossible possible.

So then, why is it that the disciples could not cast out the demons? How is it that our elected officials are doing very little against the violence of ICE? How is it that such a influential minority of our society is able to change so much?

Whether you understand Jesus curing this child as literal or metaphorical, or whether demons were how people understood anything that didn’t fit into their society or were literal demons, this scene tells us very clearly that the power to cast demons out, to heal afflictions, is not by the measure of one’s faith. And as jarring as this may sound, whether someone is healed or not of their medical condition is not dependent on how much faith and prayer someone offers them.

And this kind of relationship with faith is liberating—as much as it is not because of our faithfulness that a surgery is successful, or that someone secures a job, it means it also has nothing to do with our faithfulness when the tragedies of life inevitably befall us. Because they will, and sometimes it will feel like tragedies come because your faith and prayer were not enough. But that is the absolute last thing Jesus wants those who are grieving an individual loss or collective loss to feel—Jesus does not want you to feel faithless and perverse. Instead, he wants us to be not afraid of the inevitabilities of life, so that we can faithfully pursue wholeness. And this generation has become faithless and perverse not because they did not have enough faith, or because their faith was too “little,” but because they had not yet seen their “little” faith for what it can accomplish.

“Oh, yeah, your little faith? It can move mountains.”

But calling a generation faithless and then saying that even the smallest seed of faith can do the impossible feels paradoxical. Are they faithless, or do they have little faith, and as long as they hold onto a tiny bit of belief, they’ll always be able to do the impossible?

And if we think we can measure the depth of someone’s faith, or if heaven is about filling up our “faith bar” or what kids these days would call “faith maxing,” then Jesus is being paradoxical, telling the disciples they do not have enough faith, and then telling them their little faith is enough to cure an incurable disease, and that can be a dangerous slope.

Instead, Jesus calls their generation faithless—not because every person of their generation lacked faith but because that is how Jesus is experiencing this generation. The world and society that Jesus is in is marked by faithlessness. And so, the faithful finally have a voice of authority who affirms their humanity, finally have some form of institutional support for what the faithful have always held faith to be true—that anyone created into the image of God, even those, deserve equity, justice, care, community, belonging, rest, thriving, and joy.

Their faith, however small or large it was, has always held onto the fundamental truths that Christ has come to ensure that the poor are blessed, the hungry are fed, the meek are given voice and opportunity, and that justice will flow like a river. And with that faith, when it aligns with the faith of the prophets, with the faith of Jesus Christ, and when it is pointed towards the kin-dom life of thriving and restoration, we can accomplish what has been deemed impossible.

And we do not have to look far back into history to see the power of faith.

On one hand, we have seen the power of faith move impossible mountains like the freeing of enslaved peoples, move people to resist even in the face of guaranteed death, move people to reject whatever laws told them that he or she or they could not vote for one reason or another. We have seen the power of faith move impossible mountains like galvanizing millions of people across the globe to stand in collective demonstration.

On the other disgusting, gross, grubby, unwashed, unkempt, cigarette-stained, drug-addled hand, the power of faith has also moved impossible mountains like genociding an entire group of people and pillaging entire communities of people to steal land and resources. It was the power of faith that enslaved people, the power of faith elected pedophiles and human traffickers into office.

And while both instances of faith exist, it is more than clear just exactly which hand has wielded more power, leading to the faithless and perverse generation that we find ourselves in today.

But be not afraid, do not give into hopelessness and despair—please cry whenever you need to, and grieve however long you need to grieve, and do so with the reminder that those feels are exactly what makes you human and exactly why so many more people are starting to feel that sense of hopelessness and despair.

Be not afraid of the sense of overwhelm we are experiencing now. Look to the communities who have been privy to the violence, authoritarianism, dehumanization, and objectification for many generations, and you will find that humanity is much more resilient, that the human spirit far more collectivist than our fears may have us believing about ourselves. I know we can survive the abolishment of ICE because I didn’t become naturalized through ICE. I know we can survive the abolishment of the police because many communities have never relied on the police for community care and safety. I know we can survive the collapse of American democracy, because Black people, women, Asian immigrants, undocumented immigrants, international students, and anyone who has been the target of restrictive voting laws have never had the same confidence in these institutions and have found ways to not only survive but to find moments for joy and fulfillment.

And be not afraid of the power of your faith—in fact, know it and own it.

Because as hesitant as we may feel about the power of our faith, wary about the little amount we pray or attend church, unsure about whether or not our faith has the power to move mountains, we make statements of faith with our silence, our disengagement, our apathy, and appeasement of historically violent and oppressive institutions. It reveals our faith in power and wealth rather than people, faith in institutions rather than the people that hold them up.

And this is not an easy transformation of faith, especially for those in this current generation, but it is the transformation of faith that reveals who we are, and what we are each uniquely called to be a part of.

Why do we strive for economic equality?

Why do we strive for environmental health, why do we care for the earth?

Why do we build homes, why do we donate food, why do we give to charity?

Receive this with love: it is not because you are a Christian, nor are we fulfilled because of our Christian faith.

We strive for justice, participate in the work of restoration, because we are a people created in the image of God—marked by wholeness, fullness, joy, love, gentleness, peace, self-control, patience, all those good fruits—living in a world during a generation and time where it seems more and more untenable for those fruits to grow.

We are a people with an innate desire, God-crafted and God-woven into our very being, to be restored to wholeness.

And so, we discover hobbies that fulfill us, we dive deep into interests that bring us joy, we create families that ground us and connect us to the greater community of God, we seek out healthcare when in need—because we have been created to desire wholeness, and wholeness is by definition not done in isolation.

We are created to care that people live on the streets, created to care that children go hungry, created to care that people are discriminated against because of the color of their skin. We are a people who have been created with each other’s humanities directly tied to one another’s.

And that is what is at stake for our current generation, what we are being called to preserve in ourselves and for the world, each and every day.

And in this moment when the faithlessness and perversion of our generation has been laid bare for all the disciples or those staking claim in Christ, for all the Pharisees or leaders of influential religious institutions, for all the politicians and economic leaders to see, and it being impossible to ignore, it is a moment of opportunity and hope for the crowds of people, for anyone who has had to find reasons to smile in the face of faithlessness and perversion. Because when all the faithlessness of our generation reveals itself like it has, it means there is an opportunity for faithfulness, for the collective to firmly prioritize justice instead of the order deemed by white supremacy.

We, the people of God, have been gifted an opportunity to help reorient our society toward the restoration of our collective humanity. Toward the kin-dom ethic of universal healthcare, universal housing, demilitarization domestically and internationally; toward equitable wage differences; toward diversity and inclusion in representation; toward a sense of day-to-day safety for anyone; toward the abolishment of private prisons; toward a life where income does not determine whether you eat or sleep under a roof. Toward a sense of trust in the institutions that are meant to serve the people.

As you consider how much the power of faith and maybe even your own faith have already shaped the world of division that we inhabit today, hold fast onto the faith that that’s exactly what Jesus came to show: Life is deeper than the valley of death. That the only thing more powerful than hate is love. Even when the valley of death feels more familiar, especially when it feels more comfortable, continue to choose life, prioritize love.

And if we are to prevent the complete dissolution of our collective humanity, we must first envision a world rooted in love. If we are to help ensure that a world of peace and love can overwhelm the world of hate and evil we have today, we must have faith that love wins. And if we keep our hearts aligned with Jesus, we will lead ourselves and future generations into a world of faithfulness and restoration. Be not afraid, and enlist the power of your faith behind the actions, the mobilizations, the leaders, the churches, the communities, the policies, the individuals that are so clearly rooted in love and motivated by the kin-dom ethic, and we will discover we are far more powerful than we have been made to believe.