Sept. 1, 2024
James 1:17-27
The lectionary has us turn to James for the next 5 weeks. I’m not sure that we’ll actually do that, but since we don’t otherwise get a lot of time with this letter, I thought we could at least focus on it a bit today.
James, the letter, is probably most famous for Martin Luther’s distaste for it. He called it an “epistle of straw” compared to the others, and he suggested that it should be placed at the very end of the bible.
Here’s a quote from Romans, on the other hand: “For we hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law.” That’s the kind of message that Martin Luther loved. That’s the kind of message that inspired his work of reformation, which sought to free believers from a faith that was too heavily managed by the dictates of the institutional church rather than the authentic interior lives of the people. For example, one major objection of Luther’s was the church’s management of sin: how indulgences could be purchased or how obedience to sacramental procedures could convey forgiveness. Luther, instead, argued for a kind of repentance from the heart, which meant forgiveness rooted not in merit, a forgiveness that we somehow compelled God to grant by our actions, but rather a forgiveness rooted in God’s grace alone.
So, when James says things like, “Be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves,” or “Show me your faith apart from your works, and I by my works will show you my faith,” what Luther heard was a theological emphasis on the wrong syllable. He heard James encouraging the Church to think that it is God, and the faithful to think that by certain sanctioned actions they could earn (and therefore) demand God’s favor. He heard a kind of works righteousness.
Now, James was writing in the first century; Luther in the 16th. James was writing to the early Church, a minority collection of mostly fringe people. Luther was writing to a medieval Church, a dominant institution of power and influence over people. In other words, they were addressing very different contexts with very different questions and concerns.
Here’s the thing:, I’m pretty sure that Luther was smarter than me, and I’m pretty sure that Luther knew what James was really getting at, so I don’t want to act like I’m in a position to say much more about their situation, except: my sense is that while Luther was worried about what the Church was doing to people, James on the other hand was worried about what the people were doing to the Church, and they both wanted a Church that was made up of people whose faith was characterized by sincere trust and connection, and whose lives therefore expressed something of God’s goodness. For James, if your faith didn’t lead you into action, if it didn’t move you to care for widows and orphans, to care for those whom Christ calls, “the least of these,” then your faith wasn’t quite the faith of true Christian intent.
Now that we’re here in the 21st century, making our way through times that are as unique as the times of James and Luther, I’m inclined to think that we’ve circled back a bit. In a secular world the question once again is: what kind of Church will the faithful form? What kind of life will their faith reveal? As we ask these questions it seems to me that James offers some good guidance.
First, it’s clear from James that faith is not a mental exercise; it is not a solitary pondering or a peaceful feeling. At least, these things are not the “end” of faith; that is, they are not faith’s goal. The faithful, says James, are to be a kind of “first fruits,” the new things that emerges from the Word of God planted within us. We are to be changed so that we become quick to listen and slow to anger. We are to be changed by that living Word within us so that in the revealing of our character and the words of our mouths and the actions of our lives others are ministered to, others see God’s Word embodied for them.
When you become a member here at TCC you agree to “habitual attendance and participation in the life of the church.” I make it a point to remind our new members that their attendance isn’t simply about themselves. It’s not simply about what you get out of it. It’s also about your presence to and for others. It’s about the unique way in which God’s image shines through you in love for God’s people. Your smile, your greeting, your kind word, your listening ear, your helping hand, your interest, your laughter, your prayers, your presence might very well be the bit of God that another needs to get them though whatever it is that they are facing in their life.
Faith that really is faith is the kind of thing that compels compassion and moves us to put ourselves in places such that God can work through us. A week and a half ago at Feel the Warmth I got to hold the clicker. When the night was done I had clicked it 121 times, meaning we gave meals to 121 people who otherwise would have gone hungry. What James would have us know is that whether we knew it or not, whether we felt it or not, we were doing God’s work. The faithful “act,” they become “doers” not to earn standing or be in right relationship with God, but because God uses their actions to care for others.
The thing is, though it is not necessarily the case that we’ll know it or feel it, I would say that most of the time something happens, and when we reflect on that something we often sense a holy movement of some kind, which of course is the very thing that our faith seeks. James says, “For if any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in the mirror; for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like.”
The truth of the matter is that faith, in a way, needs action. I know that our monthly participation at FTW and our ongoing covenant with nOURish Bridgeport makes a difference in the lives of hungry people, but just as important for me is the difference it makes in us. As I clicked that clicker, and handed out water, and did my best to smile and chat with each person who came through I felt myself settling into a time that felt purposeful and important. I felt freed up a bit from the thoughts that were waying upon my mind, and as I somewhat reluctantly and awkwardly danced along with a lady who was vibing to the music that someone else was playing, I felt the grace of a change in perspectives, like God was saying, “Don’t forget to smile. Don’t forget that life’s a gift.”
But, without action I would have missed all of that. Like James says, being doers of the word helps us remember our faith – remember who we really are – and it opens us to the surprising manifestations of God’s grace. And so it is as much for ourselves as it is for others.
As our church and as the greater Church lives into whatever it is that it is becoming – these do seem like times of great change – it seems to me that the only church worth being is the kind of church where the Word is heard AND done, where faith is lived, and where God, thereby, is known.