Saturday, October 29, 2022

The Refrigerator and Denali

 


What a drag! I needed to move my kitchen fridge to retrieve something that had fallen behind it. It was a bit of a struggle to pull it out far enough to grab the thing I wanted to recover, but I also saw some things I’d missed but hadn’t realized were back there. I had to pull the fridge out a bit further to get them with my grabber tool. That accomplished, it was time to put the refrigerator back in place, but it turned stubborn. No matter what I did, it wouldn’t move more than a third of the way back in. It was like trying to move Denali. Tired and achy, I sat down and started to work on the problem in words.

There’s a famous and popular saying from Scripture, “Faith can move mountains.”  I thought of that as I had been pushing and trying to put the fridge back in place. I’ve heard it a lot before. Regardless of the situation, that phrase will undoubtedly come up. Somebody will almost always use that phrase, which is usually a comfort. Still, I sometimes wonder how it is received by non-Christians, or those who have had a traumatic loss or an unanswered prayer.

The phrase is a metaphor for part of Matthew 17:20(b): “For truly I tell you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.”  It would be simple to dismiss the verse as patently impossible. Suppose I laid a mustard seed (which isn’t really big, but bigger than some seeds I have in my pantry) at the base of a mountain and walked a few feet away. In that case, I probably couldn’t find it unless I walked back to where I thought I had put it and then searched the area to recover it. If I tossed it over my shoulder and then went to find it, I might never lay eyes on it again. Plant the seed in the ground, and it will grow into a goodly-sized bush. Practice faith, and, like the seed, it will grow. How much? It depends on the effort put into it. Jesus didn’t have gyms and fitness equipment to use as a comparison, but I’m sure he would metaphorize it as “The more work you do with it, the bigger and stronger it will get.”

Suppose I ask someone how much time they put into daily prayer and faith development. In that case, I could (a) be laughed at, (b) be asked if I were some kind of religious kook; or (c) be walked away from very quickly. Maybe one person in fifteen might be willing to engage in conversation on the subject of faith. Probably ten of those would want to control the conversation, telling me about their faith and how it is the “true faith” or “the only way.”

Some denominations actively teach direct approaches with perfect strangers. I feel most homeowners or apartment dwellers have received such strangers at their front doors, offering to give us the “Word of God” and the steps to salvation. I found most of mine came on Saturday mornings when I was trying to clean the house after a week of work. Frankly, I felt it was an intrusion and got a “No Solicitors” sign for my front door. It didn’t always work, but I suppose it’s all part of the freedom of religion thing.

I will admit to having a faith that is by no means mountain-moving size. I have had a lot of prayers that have not been granted, but then s I realize that sometimes what I asked for was perhaps not what I should have requested. I showed my faith by asking, but that was because I trusted God would give it due consideration and then say “yea” or “nay” depending on things about which I knew nothing.

I’ve prayed for friends and family with cancer and other debilitating diseases and asked for healing, comfort, and strength for them and their families. I do not believe that it is always God’s will when something terrible happens. I’ve put a lot of requests in God’s hands, including people I love, and sometimes they regain their health, but sometimes they die despite my prayers. I don’t think it was because my faith wasn’t as strong as it should have been. There’s still another old saying, “Stuff Happens.” It’s not that God doesn’t care about me, my prayers, or those I’m praying for. I think it is that there are mountains not meant to be conquered or moved.

After reflecting on my original problem, I paused and returned to my initial challenge. It wasn’t any lighter, but somehow it was more willing to move inches at a time. It still wasn’t a straight shot, but it finally went back into place. I hadn’t even resorted to asking St. Jude for help. I just put it in God’s hands, did what I could, sat down and thought, went back, and practiced confidence. I had faith, maybe only the size of a sesame seed (smaller than a mustard one), but the task was accomplished.

Thank you, God!

Originally published on Episcopal Café as part of Episcopal Journal, Saturday,  October 29, 2022.

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