Last week, I wrote about being thankful for having faith. I found it serendipitous that a few days later, when attending the commissioning of my cousin Ray as a pastor in New Jersey at Christian Community Chapel, his entire sermon was about faith.
After he handed out packets of mustard (something I’ve never witnessed before at church), he addressed the congregation with his message, appropriately titled “The Possibilities of Mustard.”
I soon learned that mustard dates back to the Romans who first started experimenting with the seeds. During the 4th and 5th century, recipes containing mustard were found in Roman cookbooks. It’s obvious where you use mustard: on food. You wouldn’t use it as oil in your car or as hair gel (pretty disgusting when you think about that). Just like mustard, faith has it’s rightful place, Ray said.
Quoting Mark Driscoll of Mars Hill Church in Seattle, Ray’s message struck a chord.
“If faith doesn’t work its way into the core of who you are, you are not walking in faith. Faith is day-to-day trusting God and God’s word knowing that even if you don’t see it or understand it, He’s wise and He’s good, and He’s right and we trust Him.”
Most importantly, faith should implicate your life.
This past year I’ve been struggling a lot trying to define my faith, but I don’t think I should have to. Yes, I’m Catholic but does that mean anything in the scheme of things with what I believe, who I am? I might not go to church every Sunday or pray every night (I’m trying to) but that doesn’t lessen the fact that I do have faith and believe in something bigger than me, something that has led me to the path as a music journalist. And, for some reason, call it faith, call it determination or possibly stubbornness, I refuse to give up.
My faith is believing that God gave me a purpose in this life and despite the many obstacles I face on a daily basis, at the end of the day I have faith that everything is going to work out the way it should.
“Faith should be your driving motive. Trusting in God and that He is Good,” Ray said.
This is where I sometimes falter. Faith isn’t always my driving motive. It’s music. In his closing remarks, my cousin, just a few months younger than me, gave me advice I will always remember when I pick up a mustard packet.
“Where do you put your mustard?” he asked. “If faith is like a mustard seed, hypothetically you have a bunch of faith right now…where are you going to put it? Is your car low on oil, can you use that? Or is there a pack of hot dogs waiting for you later on that would greatly appreciate this beloved American condiment? Likewise, when you leave this building in a few short minutes, are you going to start living with a faith that completely and utterly implicates your life?”
I sure hope so.