Dear Saints,

When most people think of Jesus’s “mustard” teaching, they tend to recollect Luke 17:6: “if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you would say to this mulberry tree, ‘be uprooted and planted in the sea, and it would obey you.” It’s certainly a powerful image of what a little faith can do, but today we get a slightly different take. In this parable, Jesus compares a grain of mustard to the Kingdom of God: it is the smallest of seeds to start, but ultimately it becomes the largest of plants and most fruitful of homes.

It’s a far cry from how most kings inaugurate their kingdoms. Coronations tend to be magnificent affairs, full of pomp and circumstance intended to wow every onlooker; every detail is a testament to the power of the new reign. By stark contrast, God begins his kingdom in the ground: quiet, hidden, and vulnerable. It needs a great deal of loving attention to thrive. More than attention, in fact, it needs protection and vigilance.

It’s fitting that we would encounter the mustard tree’s humble beginnings on Father’s Day, because so much of fatherhood is about those moments of silent vigilance. I think about my own dad, who worked without tiring - or any expectation of thanks - to turn our family tree into a flourishing home for all who sought shelter within its branches. His simple, understated industriousness was an inspiration to my brothers and me, and something I aspire to every day.

As we celebrate our fathers and father figures, we’d do well to give special thanks for the many ways in which they sow the small seeds of God’s kingdom in the hearts of the precious children entrusted to their care.

Christ’s Peace,

Father Daniel

δοῦλος Χριστοῦ Ἰησοῦ