“Then [Jesus] touched their eyes and said, “According to your faith let it be done to you.” Matthew 9:29 NIV
This verse can be both discomforting and liberating. It is discomforting because we don’t want so much to depend on us. We want God to intervene in our lives regardless of how much or how little faith we have, because, in reality, we know how weak our faith is. But it is also liberating because Jesus has promised, "If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it will obey you” (Luke 17:6 NIV), and we know that the only real hindrance to our prayers is our faith. Our desire, then, is often the same as that of the disciples; “Lord, increase our faith” (Luke 17:5). If we just have more faith, God will act, right?
When I was in high school, my favorite uncle died. My father’s youngest sibling, Bo was just ten years older than I was and, in many ways, more like a brother to me than he was to my father. My baby brother was just five years old at the time and was also deeply affected by Bo’s death. Walking across the street from church one Sunday morning, he asked my mother, “Why did God let Uncle Bo die? I prayed really hard for him to live, but God let him die.” My wonderfully bright and articulate English teacher mother suddenly found herself at a loss for words. With wisdom she freely admitted came “direct from God,” she replied, “Well, David, did it ever occur to you that God may have answered Uncle Bo’s prayer [to be free of disease] instead of yours?” That seemed to satisfy him, and he never mentioned it again.
The problem is that our pure childlike faith matures (?) into an adult faith that sometimes doesn’t resemble faith at all. We say we will have more faith if we could just see more of God, but God says we will see more of Him if we have greater faith. The belief comes first, but therein lies the problem. We wish we could have more faith, we really do; and we try to muster it up. But we need something to base that faith on, and when our own experience is lacking in the miraculous, our faith finds no footing. Deep down, we know there is a level of faith that is satisfying, if we can only get there. We hear others tell of it, and we believe them. We just don’t believe it can happen for us.
Increasing faith, though, isn’t usually a single breakthrough—it’s more like strengthening a muscle through repeated, intentional practices. Most of us will never have a “road to Damascus experience” like the Apostle Paul. For most of us, faith grows through a mixture of experience, reflection, and habit. That means it cannot just be based solely on belief; it must be practiced. Faith and belief are similar, to be sure, but they are not the same. Belief is mainly about what you think is true. It’s intellectual assent. You can believe something based on evidence, reasoning, or what you’ve been taught. Faith, on the other hand, goes a step further. It’s about trust and commitment. It involves leaning your life on what you believe—especially when you don’t have complete proof or when things are uncertain (The Apostle Thomas comes to mind). Faith is both relational and active.
That means faith deepens when it’s lived. Regular prayer, silence, or meditation creates space for trust to grow. Scripture reading, and participation in community—aren’t just obligations; they’re ways of training the heart to notice God’s presence. Counterintuitively, faith often grows when you don’t ignore questions. Again, Thomas the Apostle is not remembered for his blind belief, but for wrestling with uncertainty. Faith that has faced doubt tends to be more resilient. And faith is often strengthened by memory, when we reflect on moments where we sensed meaning, guidance, or grace. Jews the world over have celebrated Passover for centuries as a reminder of God’s intervention and deliverance. Events like the Exodus are retold precisely to help people remember and trust again.
One of the most important ways to increase faith—and I cannot emphasize this enough—is to stay in community. This is critical, because faith tends to weaken in isolation. Being part of a community—whether in church, as part of a study group, or even relying on a few trusted people—helps sustain it. Others can help carry belief for you when yours feels thin. We see that in the Early Church. They met together regularly and “devoted themselves to the Apostles teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and the prayers” (Acts 2:42 ESV). If that sounds familiar, it is part of our Baptismal Covenant (See BCP, p. 304), which each of us reaffirms at every baptism.
Finally, remember that faith doesn’t usually grow in a straight line. It has seasons—clarity, dryness, renewal. That doesn’t mean it’s failing; it means it’s alive. And faith is nothing in and of itself. It’s the object of our faith that matters. As Christians, our faith is in the One Who not only created us in His image, but loved us enough give his only Son to bring us back into relationship with Him.
Prayer: Gracious and loving God, increase my faith and let it be full and unreserved. Let my faith be joyful and give peace and gladness to my spirit. Amen.
Blessings,
Steve+
