Every Generous Act

Sermon

A friend of mine recently asked me how living in this time of pandemic is affecting my faith. Truth be told, I hadn’t really reflected on that. I’m more of a “put-one-foot-in-front-of-the-other” kind of person, and getting through this pandemic has meant, for me, buckling down in that particular way.

Of course, all of us have learned so much in these past five months. Most pastors have become televangelists. We’re all learning the intricacies of Zoom, the unreliability of the Internet, the proper way to wear a mask, how to prevent your glasses from fogging up when wearing a mask, and how to order groceries online. We’ve become armchair epidemiologists.

We’ve also learned that losing those things we’ve counted on means living with grief every day. We’ve learned that disappointment is real, that getting together with friends is life-saving, and that nothing takes the place of a real hug. We’ve learned about selfishness. We’ve learned about generosity, too.

But what have we learned about God, or about our relationship with God, in this time? Are there new insights, or have we relied on the ancient teachings that are as true for us today as they were two or three thousand years ago? And for today’s purposes, does the writer James offer us any word for this time?

New Testament scholar Luke Timothy Johnson reminds us that the letter of James can be understood as wisdom literature, and he explains that wisdom has an international character in that human behavior does show some constants across cultures. (New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary.) I would say that human behavior shows constants across the centuries, too. And so the letter of James has a broader scope than one of Paul’s letters. Rather than being directed to one Christian community, James sees the world as his audience. He is concerned with morals, how we treat each other as equals, as siblings, sisters and brothers. Explicitly and implicitly, he reminds us that each of us is cherished equally by God, so we should cherish each other in the same way.

All of that comes out of his understanding of God, who is complete and generous goodness. God as goodness, a Goodness that is generous to us. And so in today’s verses, James reminds us that every good gift that we experience, every boon, every bit of help, is literally a godsend; every good gift comes from above, from God, who loves us and is utterly generous with us.

Let me reframe the original question, then. Have you experienced God’s generosity in this time? Have you received good gifts from above? I do not believe that God sent COVID-19 to us as a test or temptation or judgement, but I do believe that the crisis of this pandemic allows us to act with the kind of generosity and grace we have received from God.

We talk in church a lot about generosity with our time and talent and treasure. This morning we are all recipients of the immense talents of our musicians Michael and Leslie, who received the gift of their talent from God, and acknowledged it, and work hard on it and delight in it and share it. So many in our community share the gift of their time as they tend the rose garden, or check on the heating system, or engage as pen pals with one another, or so many other activities. And we have a congregation generous with their treasure and because of that, we have not needed to lay off any staff member during the pandemic. As the head of staff, I am infinitely grateful for that.

But I think this time has called us to be generous with our hearts too. Let me explain.

We may well have forgotten how stressful it is to be staying close to home, wearing a mask, not seeing folks. Like the frog put in a pot of water as the heat is slowly but surely going up, we may not realize the sheer stress of this time. I ache for parents with young children who are trying to figure out how to work from home as their kids do school from home. I ache for people who have lost their jobs or whose income has been severely diminished. I hate that folks are dying alone, unable to have their loved ones join them at their death beds.

You add to that the political schism that is made worse by some who say the virus is a hoax or that wearing masks doesn’t matter; you add to that the surge of awareness of racial injustice in our nation and the focus in the news on the protests in Portland; you add to that this week’s bad news about the gross domestic product – we’ve got multiple crises hitting us all at the same time.

And so we have a choice, I think. Do we hunker down, store up for the next wave of scarcity, get into arguments with complete strangers on social media, tear down those we disagree with? Those are all possibilities, and on days when we just can’t deal, we might do any of those things.

James reminds us, though, that that’s not who we are. We are not created for selfishness. We are not created for hoarding or tearing down. If we are indeed made in the image of our Creator, then we imitate the Creator’s generosity. We imitate the Creator’s self-giving. We imitate the Creator’s encouragement. And that takes a generosity of the heart.

What was the last kind thing you did for someone?

When was the last time you thanked someone?

When was the last time you kept your mouth shut rather than try to get the last word in?

When was the last time you listened deeply to someone?

When was the last time you forgave someone who had done you wrong?

The Letter of James has been criticized by some because James is very clear, simply put, that faith without works is dead. You can think your neighbor is an angel, fabulous, amazing, but if that very neighbor is in need and you have the means and opportunity to help that person and don’t, well, I think James would say that while you think good and faithful thoughts – my neighbor is awesome – your faith, not backed up by concrete works, is dead.

That’s wisdom right there, and it’s why this particular letter might be considered wisdom literature. It doesn’t matter if you live in northeast Portland or Nairobi, if you live in Gresham or Giza, if you live in Lake Oswego or Laos: if you love your neighbor but do not work for your neighbor’s well-being, summoning the generosity of Spirit that God put into you, well… What is the point? You may as well spend your time wondering how many angels can dance on the head of a pin.

We were gifted with another piece of wisdom literature this week in the final words from one of America’s greatest. A few days before he died, Representative John Lewis wrote an opinion piece for The New York Times and asked that it be published on the day of his funeral. Like wisdom literature, it is universal in tone and reminds us that we are citizens of the world. Like wisdom literature, it both states the obvious and challenges us to reach deep. And like wisdom literature, I suspect these words will stand the test of time.

Here is part of what John Lewis wrote:

“You must also study and learn the lessons of history because humanity has been involved in this soul-wrenching, existential struggle for a very long time. People on every continent have stood in your shoes, through decades and centuries before you. The truth does not change, and that is why the answers worked out long ago can help you find solutions to the challenges of our time. Continue to build union between movements stretching across the globe because we must put away our willingness to profit from the exploitation of others.

“Though I may not be here with you, I urge you to answer the highest calling of your heart and stand up for what you truly believe. In my life I have done all I can to demonstrate that the way of peace, the way of love and nonviolence is the more excellent way. Now it is your turn to let freedom ring.”

How will you act generously? How will you act kindly? How will you act justly? I think our actions begin with, as the Congressman said, listening to the highest calling of our hearts; listen for what God has whispered there; listen. And then do something.