The 17th Sunday after Pentecost - Drawing Near to God

“Draw near to God, and [God] will draw near to you.”  These words from the Letter of James suggest our actions will make a difference in our relationship with God.  This shouldn't surprise us since a few weeks ago we heard James' opinion that faith without works is dead. Yet, on the other hand, James makes it clear that faith in God guides our lives.  I believe he understands this faith as something he calls “wisdom from above.”  This sort of wisdom leads to good works and to peaceable, compassionate behavior.

James writes, “Who is wise and understanding among you?  Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom.”

The prophet, Jeremiah, faced attacks and rejection from the people to whom God had sent him. His wisdom consisted of holding fast to the truth God has revealed to him.  And this was the truth he prophesied:  that evil deeds came because the people of Judah had given precedence to the cultic practices of worship in the Temple over obedience to the Law which came from God through Moses. The Law was a gift to guide them into the way of wisdom, but it was easier for them to depend on making appropriate sacrifices at the Temple.

Their sin was to ignore the righteous behavior God desired—what James called “wisdom from above”—and substitute what one might call, “wisdom from below.”  This “wisdom from below” follows the cultural norms of the society in which one finds one's self.  If it opposes acts of righteousness, compassion and peace, it becomes “evil.” Jeremiah feared for his life at the hands of those he condemned for their evil deeds.

James may not have feared for his life, but he feared for the community which is being torn apart by behaviors which not only violated the Ten Commandments God gave on Mt. Sinai, but also the law of love taught by Jesus.  The “wisdom from below” in James's view comes from a mindset of putting yourself first: he wrote, “. . . you covet something and you cannot obtain it; so you engage in disputes and conflicts.”  To live as a person who seeks “the wisdom from above” means living with a servant's attitude. James advises—even demands—that we become humble before the Holy One: “Submit yourselves therefore to God.”

But even when we have not been able to live as people filled with “wisdom from above,” even when we have been lax in our efforts to draw near Jesus, he can reach out to us as he did to his disciples that day when he discovered they had been arguing about who would be the greatest.  His reaching out to us defines God's love and grace toward us. Our wisdom, by our own efforts, could best be described as “partial” or “incomplete.”  Jesus taught those arguing disciples—and he teaches us—that our wisdom can mature, becoming more complete, when we seek what the world considers unimportant—serving others and welcoming (and caring for) the most vulnerable people in the name of Jesus.

No one was more vulnerable in Jesus' time than children, who had no power or status in society.  “Drawing near to God” meant then (and means now) responding to Jesus' teaching about our relationship with God:  “Whoever welcomes one such child [someone with no status or power] in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not be but the one who sent me.”

Think back over this past week.  Think back to yesterday.  How have you [and I must answer this as well] served another in the name of Jesus?  How have you welcomed—or cared for—someone who could not give you something is return?  In doing these things, in responding to God's grace to us, are we drawing closer to the Holy One?  James would say we are. What do you say?

The 14th Sunday after Pentecost - What's in your heart?

One political party convention down and one to go!  I'm not much of a convention watcher for either party, but on Thursday evening I came in to the room where our TV lives and joined Fred for a few minutes.  Grant Bennett, a leader in the same local Mormon church as Mitt Romney led, was speaking—he called himself Mitt's assistant.  He spoke about Mitt's service to others in his church who were in need.  Suddenly my ears perked up, because he was referring to a portion of scripture we heard this morning from the Epistle of James:  true religion means helping widows and orphans in their distress.

Helping widows and orphans was an important activity in the early church. In the 6^th chapter of Acts we learn that in Jerusalem Christians were growing in numbers, and there was increasing tension among them.  The Greek Christians complained that their widows were being neglected in the daily distribution of food.  They were comparing the treatment of their widows with how the Jewish Christian widows were being treated.  So to resolve this issue seven men were selected by the Christian community and appointed by the apostle to make sure the distribution of food was equitable. Then the apostles could “devote [themselves] to prayer and to serving the word.”

Helping those in need has continued to be what most religious communities do with whatever resources they can. True religion involves cooking for Emmanuel Dining Room, stocking and packing food for Hudson Center clients, participating in the activities to raise money for our grants to organizations who serve the poor, and opening our building up to groups—such as, AA—that need space for activities that serve our community.

James calls our Christian responsibility to “be doers of the Word and not merely hearers who deceive themselves [that hearing and believing is enough].  He says that “doers who act . . . will be blessed in their doing.” This practical approach to expressing one's faith can be seen in many religious traditions.  The problem, of course, becomes how to determine who is needy and how generous we believe we should be towards them.  But we must puzzle through our confusion, for not to act denies what we know we have been commanded to do.  We remember in Matthew 25 Jesus says that when you have done it to the “least of these” you have done it to me.

This well and good, but does it matter what the beliefs we hold?  Or are supposed to hold. Does it make a difference what we believe as long as we practice generosity toward folks in need? The tension between the relative importance religious traditions and beliefs and a generous spirit strains to a breaking point in our gospel reading from Mark.

The religious authorities, who never got good press in the gospels, argued for the traditions of the elders to take precedence.  The traditions of the elders were established to “build a fence” around the Law given to Moses by God.  God would be pleased, the religious authorities believed, if people followed these rules that protected their relationship with God and God's Law.

But Jesus challenged these authorities about their intentions regarding rule-keeping. Did keeping these rules draw them closer to God?  They were hypocrites in Jesus' eyes, because they talked as if they wanted to draw closer to God, but their hearts did not follow their words.

According to the gospel account the religious authorities lacked a generous spirit. They puzzled over how anyone can draw close to God without following the rules that guard the Law given to Moses?  They could not see Jesus' disciples were following a new path—one that had equal validity in God's eyes.  It did not replace the path they were following, but expanded or extended it.  God was revealing more of God's self through Jesus in front of their eyes.  And their lack of a generous spirit kept them from seeing it.

So, not only should we care for those in need, but we should reflect on our intentions as well. I believe we are asked to give generously of ourselves and of our resources when we help others, but God expects to find a generous spirit in our hearts as well.

Unfortunately, we human beings have great difficulty maintaining a generous spirit in our hearts.  Jesus listed twelve sins—besides hypocrisy—that are signs of evil intentions and hardness of our hearts to the pain we can cause others.  When I read the list at the end of the gospel reading, I'll bet quite a few of us went, “Whew, glad she didn’t mention anything I have to worry about!” But we really do need to worry a bit.

How many of us make the assumption that “caring for widows and orphans” and performing other deeds of mercy to those in need provide all we have to know about someone's character? Doing good deeds, following the rules and traditions handed down by our forebears, and abstaining from obvious bad deeds—shouldn't this be enough?

No, it would not be enough, even if we could manage to live perfectly—which we can't.  This is what God hopes to find in us: the intention to live, not hypocritically, but with a generous spirit in our hearts—hearts open to the possibility God's continuing revelation of God's will—hearts that match our best words and our best deeds—whether we are a presidential candidate or a person sitting here in the congregation today. And, of course, in the end, we know all this is possible—when we are able to manage it—only by God's grace.