Do Be Do Be Do

Sermon

Most of us really don’t like being told what to do, except when we ask someone to tell us what to do. Even then, we might not like what we hear.

For better or worse, we have an entire epistle telling us what to do as faithful Christians, whether we want it or not. The Letter of James is nothing if not practical, and just in today’s lesson, we have eleven imperatives. The question, as with anything anyone tells us to do, is whether or not we will do it.

I will show you my cards right now and tell you that I really appreciate the Letter of James. It’s like a good astringent – fresh, bracing, and clear.

What I find interesting is that this author, James, whoever he was, drew on both Greek and Jewish thought. Even in these first verses, we see both influences. The way James describes the nature of God is very Greek in its outlook. Greek philosophy teaches that every being has its origin in the Highest Being. (Haruko Nawata Ward, Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 4, p. 14) We human beings receive our origin from God; the light from God passes on to us. As the first fruits of God, we are closest to our origin and receive the most light.

But then James goes on to say that we cannot simply hear about God and think about God, we must also act out our faith in God. That’s a very Jewish understanding. Jewish scholars have noted that Judaism is not so much a set of intellectual, theological beliefs as it is a way of life. James picks up on that here and throughout the letter.

One way to understand this is to realize that for James, contemplating the old query, “How many angels can dance on the head of a pin” would be a waste of time that could be better used caring for the widow and orphan.

This letter is not merely a historical text. You and I are invited to consider what these words mean for us today, in Portland and other places in August of 2021, amid the backdrop of a worldwide pandemic, terrorism, the start of the school year, and so much more.

So let us, you and I, consider these words today.

First, we need to think about how we hear all of this bracing instruction from James. Let me suggest that we grapple with this text with an understanding that all of it falls within the framework of God’s generosity. No encouragement or admonition of James falls beyond God’s generosity to us. Everything is surrounded by God’s generous grace and by God’s generous equipping of us for all we are asked to do.

It’s as though God gives us the frame, and James gives us the colors to use, and it’s up to us to paint the picture of our life in faith. We’ll see if that metaphor sticks!

James gives us the colors of patience, asking us to be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger. If we all did that, the world would not only be a lot quieter, but also a lot more peaceful. I am of the opinion that after eighteen months of COVID-19, none of us is at our best. We are living with the seen and unseen stress of a worldwide pandemic. It is wearing and it is wearying and when we are tired and frazzled, it’s hard to listen well, keep our mouths shut, and keep our anger in check.

Is James being aspirational? Is he expecting a Monet or a Rubens, or is our fingerpainted stick figure good enough? Is good listening and slowness to anger a goal we strive toward, or does he expect us to really do those things? Well, my friends, I think he expects that of us.

David Sluss, associate professor of organizational behavior at Georgia Tech’s business school, writes about leaders developing patience. One way to do that, he writes, is to “Thank your way to patience. Gratitude has powerful effects on a wide range of our attitudes and behaviors. For example, keeping a journal about things you are thankful for increases generosity with others and lowers stress. It is no wonder then that gratitude may also positively spill over to our ability to demonstrate patience. Research in experimental psychology has found when people feel more grateful, they are better at delaying gratification and are more patient.

“In the middle of a crisis, it may be hard to feel grateful. However, as you practice gratitude – perhaps by keeping a journal or just by being mindful of the progress made by others – you may find hidden opportunities for thankfulness. Then, when you know something will trigger your impatience, you can take a moment to reflect on what is going well and what you’ve learned or have the potential to learn from the crisis.” (https://hbr.org/2020/09/becoming-a-more-patient-leader)

Next, James gives us the colors of introspection and personal accounting. We need to Marie Kondo our hearts—get rid of all the stuff taking up space so that there is room for God.

When we were on vacation, the three Neels, we had a day without our electronic devices. We’ve gotten so used to being able to Google up our questions, to quickly check our texts and e-mails, to see how many like our Instagram posts were getting, that we weren’t paying attention to each other or the world around us. I can’t speak for Gregg or Sarah, but I loved it. When Gregg and I walked that day, we weren’t listening to music or a podcast or even each other, but the wind in the trees and the occasional bird.

I wonder if there’s a way to do that with our hearts, too—to have a fast from the junk that finds its way there. You know what I mean—the envy, the fear of missing out, the grief over change that cannot be undone, the lamenting over little things. Social media can take up a lot of emotional space. So can the nightly news. So can gossip and fearmongering. With all that in our hearts, is there room for prayer? Is there room for gratitude? Is there room for grace? All of us can declutter our hearts to make room for God.

Then James gives us the colors of action, of lived response. We are not merely to hear the word, but do the word. Talking the talk isn’t good enough if we are not also walking the walk.

Think for a moment about the best Christian you know. I want to apologize immediately for that term—best Christian—but it makes the point. Think about someone you know personally who epitomizes the Christian life. I imagine this is someone who is patient and kind and wise; someone who has some sort of organized prayer or meditation life. This person sets an example in how they spend their time, in a cause or in causes that make the community better or bring hope where there is despair.

Can you imagine that person? Can you be that person?

Finally, James gives us colors that are seen throughout the scripture; ancient color, like the ochre found in a painting 30,000 years old; priceless color, like the lapis lazuli that Renaissance artists considered the finest of all the blues. With these ancient, priceless colors, James asks us to paint our lives in care for orphans and widows in their distress.

Any community that does not care for its most vulnerable isn’t worth its salt, and in the time when James wrote his letter, and really in all of scripture, the most vulnerable were the widows and the orphans who had no societal protections.

Who is vulnerable among us? Certainly our children under twelve who are not yet able to get the COVID vaccine. Those Portlanders who sleep in tents on the sidewalk, living in fear, some living with addiction—they are vulnerable. Those who are hidden from daily view, vulnerable in their isolation. The refugees who struggled to get out of Afghanistan; their vulnerability is painful to see.

How we care for these is of utmost importance to the health of our Westminster community. If we are just getting together to have fun and learn and worship, but all of that does not lead us to reach out and help, then we might as well be a country club.

So. We have a frame that is God’s generosity. We have the colors we are to use. And I think it’s important to add that God does not ask us to live out our faith this way without also equipping us. So God gives us the brushes and the canvas too.

We have so many resources that enable us to make that picture. We have people who know how to do certain things. We have people who know people who know people. We have a building that is a pretty amazing too for ministry, a place that can become the offices of a counseling center or a temporary home for a medic group or a daycare for underserved students.

We have people with great big hearts who remind us that today is the national faith HIV/AIDS awareness day, who continue to advocate for healthcare for all. We have people who use their God-given creativity to imagine fun themes for monthly food drives, who love nothing more than bringing food to someone who just had surgery. We have people who are trained to be slow to speak and quick to listen. We call them Stephen Ministers.

We have everything we need to do the work we are called to do. And the truth is, sometimes we don’t get the work done. Especially during this pandemic, when we are exhausted by decision making and depressed because of the isolation and frazzled by too much information and too many debates, we are not at our best. We look at the paint colors we’ve been given and start binging Netflix, or we turn to our inner Jackson Pollocks and throw paint on the wall.

That’s when we need to remember the very first thing James said to us: that God is generous with grace. God is so very generous with grace. God knows that sometimes we will try and we will fail; God knows that sometimes we won’t even try. But because God is generous is love, God does not give up on us. Maybe there’s a call in that too—that we don’t give up on each other.

Beloved, the only way we will get through these hard times is with each other. The only way we will paint the beauty of our faith is with each other. God has given us all that we need – and that includes each other. Amen.