The prophet Habakkuk looks at the world and shouts:
“How long, O Lord? I cry for help, but you do not listen. Violence is everywhere. Why do you let it happen?”

That prayer could have been written yesterday.
Wars abroad. Knife crime and terrorist attacks at home. Families torn apart. The Church in decline. Our young drifting.
And inside our own hearts: sin we can’t shake, prayers that feel unanswered.

We know the cry: “How long, O Lord?”

And the Lord answers:
“The vision still has its time… If it delays, wait for it. It will surely come… The just shall live by faith.”

God doesn’t give a timetable.
He gives a promise.
Not “tomorrow.” Not “next week.”
But “trust me.”

Centuries later, the apostles echo Habakkuk.
They see their own weakness and plead: “Lord, increase our faith.”

And Jesus’ reply is shocking.
“If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could tell this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.”

Notice what Jesus doesn’t say.
He doesn’t say, “I will give you a bigger faith.”
He says, “You don’t need big faith. You need real faith.”

Faith is not measured by volume, but by trust.
A mustard seed of real faith is worth more than a mountain of half-faith.

And Paul writes to Timothy:
“Fan into flame the gift of God. For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but of power, love, and self-control.”

Faith is not timidity.
Faith is courage.
Faith is not waiting to feel strong.
Faith is stepping forward, weak but trusting.

Paul himself was chained, beaten, abandoned.
But his faith was alive. Why? Because it was aflame.

Faith must be fanned.
Like a fire, it must be fed or it dies.

Let’s be honest.
Our problem is often not lack of prayers.
It’s lack of trust.

We want God to move now.
We want results now.
We want faith that feels like control.

But faith is not control.
Faith is surrender.

That’s why Jesus ends the Gospel with the parable of servants.
“When you’ve done all you were commanded, say: ‘We are unworthy servants. We’ve only done our duty.’”

In other words: don’t bargain with God.
Don’t measure yourself.
Don’t demand results.
Just serve. Just trust. Just obey.

Think of a bridge.

You’re standing on one side of a river. You see the bridge.
Faith is not believing the bridge exists. That’s knowledge.

Faith is walking onto the bridge. Trusting it will hold.
Even if you’re trembling, even if you only take tiny steps —
what matters is not how you feel, but whether you trust enough to walk.

That’s why a mustard seed is enough.
Because it’s not the size of your step that matters —
it’s the strength of the bridge.
And Christ is the bridge.

Paul says: “Fan into flame the gift of God.”

Imagine a campfire.
If you leave it alone, it dies.
If you feed it — wood, oxygen, care — it grows.

Faith is the same.
Left alone, it cools.
Fed by prayer, sacraments, Scripture, charity — it burns.

The problem isn’t that we don’t have faith.
It’s that we don’t feed it.

So what does this mean for us at St Mary’s, St John Bosco, St Edward’s?

When you cry “How long, O Lord?” — remember Habakkuk. God’s promise may delay, but it will come. Live by faith.

When you feel your faith is too small — remember the mustard seed. It’s not the size of your faith, but the size of your God.

When you are tempted to timidity — remember Paul. The Spirit in you is not fear, but power, love, and self-control.

When you think God owes you — remember the servant. Our duty is obedience, our reward is grace.

Parents: your children don’t need to see a perfect faith. They need to see a lived faith. Grace at meals. Sunday Mass as non-negotiable. Kindness to the poor. Forgiveness in the home.

That mustard seed of example plants forests of faith in children’s hearts.

As a parish, we may feel small. Many are tired.

But Christ says: a mustard seed is enough.
If we live by faith, God can uproot trees, move mountains, change lives.

Renewal doesn’t come from human plans, but from God’s power.
Our job is to serve, trust, and pray.

Tonight, ask yourself:

Where am I crying “How long, O Lord?”

Where am I waiting for faith to feel bigger before I act?

Where do I need to fan the flame — through prayer, confession, Mass, charity?

Where do I need to stop bargaining with God and simply say, “I am your servant”?

The saints all began with mustard seeds.

St Thérèse’s Little Way was nothing more than small acts of love, done with trust.
St. Carlo Acutis was a teenager who trusted the Eucharist as his highway to heaven.
St Edward gave his wealth away, trusting God would supply.

None of them started with giant faith.
They started with mustard seeds.
But mustard seeds grow.

Habakkuk cried, “How long, O Lord?”
Jesus said, “Faith as small as a mustard seed can move mountains.”
Paul said, “Fan into flame the gift of God. Do not be timid.”

So what about us?

Faith is not waiting for feelings.
Faith is stepping onto the bridge.
Faith is feeding the flame.
Faith is saying: “I am your servant.”

Faith is not measured by size, but by trust. A mustard seed of faith in a mighty God is enough to move mountains — and enough to carry you to heaven.

Don’t wait for big faith.
Plant the mustard seed you already have.
Feed it. Fan it.

And one day you will see that the seed has grown,
the flame is burning,
the bridge has carried you home.