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.
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.
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.
1 comment:
Excellent Job!
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