If you had the faith of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, Be uprooted and planted in the sea, and it would obey you.

While you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become children of the light.

Do not let your hearts be troubled, believe in God, believe also in me.

Luke 17:6; John 6:29, 47; John 10:38, John 12:36; John 14:1,12

It was December and along with millions of others I walked briskly from my arriving train tracks through New York City’s Penn Station. Finally I reached the wide flight of ascending stairs that would take me to the street. Surprisingly, I saw painted across the risers of these grimy familiar steps Macy’s Christmas motto, ‘Believe!’

A rush of emotion came over me as I imagined millions of Penn Station pedestrians being told to believe that the Infant whose birth would soon be celebrated was the Son of God come to save their mortal souls from death and eternal unhappiness.
The red cursive letters had become as grimy as the steps themselves, and were surrounded by equally dirty walls in a great dimly-lit space whose crest revealed the sky and more pedestrians walking across its urban vista.

That simple word, Believe! was so powerful that it rose effortlessly above its environment to the heights of symphonic splendor. Yet, can a person obey a command to believe?

I believe because Christ revealed Himself to me when I asked Him to and because of the many times He has provided for me, protected me, and instructed me. God has dazzled me over and over again. I could not deny this evidence any more than I could deny the existence of bacteria or electrons for their obvious effects.

I have not seen my faith uproot mulberry trees. How I wish it could heal. In fact, I am blinded to any effects of my faith upon others. If everyone in the world ‘believed’, imagine how wonderful and magical this world would be. Imagine heaven.

Maybe we just need to ask for the faith of a mustard seed, and aim.