Religion 102 with Professor James: Principal Errors

James 2:1-10,14-17

Last week I suggested it was time to begin a new course that I called “Religion 101” with “Professor James,” an expert in the field. He is familiar with Greek philosophy, and he knows Roman religion. He’s an expert in Judaism, and he’s a specialist in Christianity. So James can teach us a lot about religion. His definition of religion that is “pure and undefiled before God” is this, we learned last week: “to care for orphans and widows in their distress and to keep one’s self unstained by the world.” Eugene Peterson paraphrased that as “real religion.” Real religion, Peterson said, is “to reach out to the homeless and the loveless in their plight to guard against corruption by the godless world.” Genuine religion, then, involves ministry to those who are ignored and forgotten rather than embracing the self-absorption, callousness and indifference of society at large. That was the first lecture in Religion 101.

In his second lecture, James says there are two principal errors that keep us from genuine religion, real religion, religion that is pure and undefiled by God. According to James, they are partiality and passiveness. I should be ashamed, really. I should be embarrassed. I shouldn’t dare stand up here like this in this ratty old t-shirt, dirty discount store shorts and shoes the dog ate. I should be embarrassed. You’re probably embarrassed for me, some of you, because I look so bad. Would it be any different if I’d walked up to the front door, the middle door or the back door this morning looking like this? Would I be welcomed any differently for wearing this than the blazer from a fashionable maker of men’s clothing, the slacks from a major brand, the button-down shirt from a regional department store, and the tie from a downtown clothier? James says our partiality gets us in trouble because I should be ashamed and embarrassed, and you would be ashamed and embarrassed to greet me at the door and shake my hand and say, “Welcome, I’m glad you’re here. Can I help you find a Sunday school class?” or “Come sit with me this morning.” Where am I going to take this guy? Where could he sit that he won’t be seen? This is embarrassing.

James says that partiality is unacceptable, and the reason he gives is quite remarkable. James doesn’t say what you’d expect him to say. He doesn’t say, “Don’t show partiality because God doesn’t show partiality.” That’s the high road. That’s what you’d expect, but that’s not what James says. Instead, he says don’t show partiality for the influential looking and the rich looking and the powerful looking over against the poor and the needy and the dirty and the disheveled because God has chosen the poor and the needy and the dirty and the disheveled. And you know what happens when James does that? James levels the playing field. By telling the gathered body of Christ, the Christian community at worship that God has chosen the poor and the needy and the dirty and the disheveled, James says that every one of us is poor and needy and disheveled and dirty. No matter how well we clean up and dress up on the outside, the error in our judgment, the faulty standard of our judgment is that we choose to look at this other person based on their outside rather than looking at this other person based on our own inside. In relation to God, none of us is wealthy. None of us is well-dressed. None of us is powerful or influential. God knows that. God sees that. But James says we engage in a faulty standard of judgment because we don’t see that about ourselves while we are quick to see it about others. We look at the tattered rags and the embarrassing clothing, and we say, “How about you stay over here? There is someone better suited for the kingdom coming right behind you. They need to come to the front and center.” James gives us a real-life example of one of the two great threats to real religion, genuine religion, religion that is pure and undefiled before God: our faulty standard of partiality when we judge others by their outside without looking at our own inside. Partiality.

And then there’s the problem of passiveness. We don’t do anything about it even when see it, James says. That’s the trap we fall into. He’s not trying to make us feel guilty. He’s not trying to beat us up. He’s just saying, look, authentic faith, real religion, genuine relationship with God has these two things that we’re likely to stumble over: partiality and passiveness. You have to do something about it, James says. So here I am shamefully dressed, embarrassing myself. (By the way, you’ll notice that I chose to do this on a Sunday when none of my three sons would be here. There are some things that children should never have to see about their parents.) It’s November, and it’s cold. And I’m still dressed in this ratty shirt, these old shorts and these literally dog eaten shoes. It’s cold, and I’m alone, and some good, well-meaning person walks by and says, “God bless you. Be warm. Eat your fill.” That’s a good word, except that they keep walking, and I’m left here cold and alone in ratty clothing and dog eaten shoes. They walk away feeling good because they just said something encouraging and kind but I’m left here.

You see, we don’t leave everybody behind. We take people in. We do things for people. This is a wonderful congregation of loving and doing and caring. I know because before most of you even knew who I was almost twenty years ago, Bev and I and our young son and eventually two and then three, were taken in and we were cared for. It was like Christmas in July when members of this congregation, friends of ours, would bring two big black plastic bags of clothing that their son had outgrown to our house, and they would give them to us, and we were thrilled to get them because we needed them. And it was nicer stuff than we would have ever bought for Marshall. I’d pull out a nice pullover shirt, a golf shirt that had a little horse on it. I don’t know what kind of implement that guy on the horse is holding up. That’s outside my league. I don’t play that game. I’d pull it out, and we’d wash it up and shake it out, and I’d give it to Marshall and say, “Marshall, look at this nice new shirt.” He’d say, “I know, it was Elliott’s.” And I’d say, “Yeah, isn’t that cool? It was Elliott’s, and now it’s yours, and you’re going to look great in it.” See, we do that for each other. I know we do that. James is saying that we can’t ever fall into the trap of just thinking that it’s enough for us to take care of our own and pass others by with a good word but don’t do anything about it.

Faith without works is dead, James says. You can have all the right thinking in the world about your doctrine, and it’s lifeless if it doesn’t translate into action. You can feel so good about how close you are to God, and it’s meaningless if that person is sitting over there in the cold and you walk by and speak a blessing without being a blessing. We can have everything we need physically, spiritually, emotionally, but James says when we leave others out our faith is dead. Our religion is not real. Our relationship with God is not complete until we have put it into action in relation to the needy and the poor and the dirty and the disheveled.

That’s what this Table is about. Among the many other things this Table is about, this Table is about action. We celebrate the ordinance of the Lord’s Supper this morning not because of what Jesus thought or what Jesus felt or even because of what Jesus said. This table is here because of what Jesus did in his life and his ministry, in his death and his resurrection. Jesus translated what he believed into action for the needy and the poor, the disheveled and the dirty, and that means for you and for me. And Jesus calls us to remember that, to celebrate it with one another, and then to go out and do something about it. That’s Jesus; that’s James; that’s the gospel. And every one of us is called to reach out to the embarrassed, the ashamed, the needy, the poor, the dirty and the disheveled in the recognition that that’s how and when God has reached out to every one of us. Every one of us is invited this morning to share in this bread and share in this cup, and then to share in faith that is alive and vibrant and in action welcoming in and reaching out.

Let’s pray. Gracious and loving God, for the gift that you have given us in Jesus Christ, in remembrance of whom we eat this bread and drink this cup, we give you thanks. We thank you for welcoming each one of us in, in spite of our inside. Forgive us, O God, for the times that we have failed you and others, and strengthen and encourage us that we may show no partiality other the partiality that you have shown when you reached out to us. Give us the strength and courage not to be passive, so that just as Jesus did, we also will do. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.

This material is Copyrighted © 2009 by Jeffrey S. Rogers. It may be copied or disseminated for non-commercial use, provided this notice is included. The author can be contacted at jeffrogers110@bellsouth.net.

Religion 101 with Professor James: It's in the Practice

James 1:17-27

All over the country, students have returned to school. From preschool to graduate school there are new teachers, new classes, new courses. So I thought it would be appropriate for us to start a new course too. It’s Religion 101 with Professor James. Professor James is well qualified to teach Religion 101. He is knowledgeable of Greek philosophy. He knows Roman religion. He is an expert in Judaism. And his specialty is a brand new religion called Christianity, brand new, that is, at the time he wrote his book on Religion 101.

Professor James is not only a professor of this religion, he’s a practitioner of it as well. For James, religion is not a conceptual and intellectual exercise learned from books and academic discussions and debates. Expertise in religion is about the practice of it, not the mere profession. That’s one of the things that sets him apart from so many religion professors in leading colleges and universities in the United States these days who are professors of religion without being practitioners of it. They are, somehow, experts in a field in which they are embarrassingly inexperienced. It’s a curious new status quo among religion professors that has developed in the last 50 years or so in the U.S. Can you imagine someone wanting to be a law professor but insisting that he had no need of actually engaging in the practice of law to understand it? “I don’t accept any of the premises that the law is based on, and I don’t approve of legal practices, but I am a scholar of the law qualified to teach others about it,” he would say. Most people would think he was a fool. Imagine the would-be professor of medicine who never practiced medicine and who routinely ridiculed and belittled those who do, but who says she wants to teach medicine. Not likely. An expert in something you refuse to actually do? Most people would call her naïve. But professors of religion who do not practice what they profess and who ridicule and belittle those who do are more and more common in leading American colleges and universities, just as more and more people in American churches are professors of their faith but not practitioners of it. Not so Professor James. Being a practitioner of what one professes is at the heart of his understanding of religion.

In his Religion 101, Professor James says, “Religion that religion that is pure and undefiled before God is this—to care for the orphans and the widows in their distress and to keep oneself unstained by the world” (James 1:27). Religion is in the practice, not in the profession. Eugene Peterson, in his paraphrase of the Bible called The Message, puts it this way: “Real religion is caring for the homeless and the loveless and guarding yourselves against the corruption of the world.” Real religion is in the practice, not just in the profession. James Moffett, a 20th century New Testament interpreter put it this way in his commentary on James: “When the sermon is done, it is not done; something remains to be done by the hearers in life” (General Epistles, p. 26). When the sermon is done, the sermon is not done until something is done by the hearers in life.

Religion is not in the hearing; it’s in the doing. It is in the practice, not just the profession. If all we do here is “hear” and “profess,” then what we are doing is an exercise in self deception. Our worship of God is an exercise in self deception unless we take the word that we have heard inside this room outside this room into life. That’s the point of the image of the mirror that James uses in verses 23-25. He says self deception is like when people look in the mirror, see themselves there, walk away, and can’t remember what they look like. Worship is a mirror. It’s a mirror in which we see who we are and whose we are and who we are called to become. And if we look in that mirror and see who we are and see whose we are and see who we are called to become and then put it down, walk out, and forget what that image looked like, we engage in self deception. Our religion is worthless, James says.

There is a word that has been planted in us, says James (v 21). That word is planted inside us, and that word must grow in us until that growth and development show on the outside, out there, not just on the inside in here. Some people say that religion is a private and personal matter between a believer and God. Religion is a private and personal matter between a believer and God, but that’s not all religion is. If all that religion is is a private and personal matter, then it is self-deception and worthless, according to James. James Moffett says that you and I come to church to enjoy an “emotional or mental treat.” It’s what we come for. What we want out of our experience in worship is a mental or emotional treat, a spiritual or musical treat. A little morsel that makes us feel good while we are here, while outside this room people hunger and thirst and need. Our religion is worthless, says Professor James, if all we come here for is a personal and private mental or emotional or spiritual or musical treat.

Professor James’s understanding of religion would turn the American church and this church upside down if every one of us adopted it. It would shake us out of our sleeping bags. It would shake us out of our sleeping bags in church if we adopted the definition Professor James puts forward in Religion 101. The point of being in this room is to leave this room. Notice something fascinating James says about the “blessing.” It’s in verse 25. “Being not hearers who forget but doers who act—they will be blessed in their doing.” “They will be blessed in their doing.” We (and not we alone—it’s typical of American Christians) come to church to receive “a blessing.” We come here to be blessed, and we love to leave this place feeling as though we’ve been blessed by our worship here. But look what Professor James says about religion that is pure and undefiled by God, what Eugene Peterson says is real religion. The blessing is not in here. It’s out there. In our doing we will be blessed. If you are satisfied with the blessing that you get in this room, then according to Professor James you are participating in self deception because the real blessing comes, says James, in your doing. That’s why religion can never be only a private and personal matter between a believer and God. Real religion, as Peterson puts it, is observable and public. It is an empirical phenomenon. It is observable and measurable. You can see it because the word that is implanted in us grows from the inside to the outside when we are not merely hearers of that word but doers. If we were to adopt Professor James’s definition of religion, it would turn the American church upside down. It would turn this church upside down. It would shake us all out of our spiritual sleeping bags to do at least as much as we hear, and in that doing we would hear, feel, receive, experience the blessing that James says is there.

Forty-five years ago my predecessor and our pastor, Hardy Clemons, wrote a hymn text that expresses Professor James’s definition of religion. We’ve been singing it for 15 or 20 years around here. Hardy’s hymn reminds us that we are not here for a treat. We are here to hear a word that we go from this place to do. “The Call to Minister Is Heard,” Hardy wrote, “to go wherever needs exist.” “We cannot serve God just in church! . . . He calls us here to send us there.” That’s real religion, and that’s what we are all invited to this morning as we stand and sing together “The Call to Minister Is Heard.”

This material is Copyrighted © 2009 by Jeffrey S. Rogers. It may be copied or disseminated for non-commercial use, provided this notice is included. The author can be contacted at jeffrogers110@bellsouth.net.