Pentecost 14, September 2012
James 1:17-27Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23
“Be doers of the word, and not merely hearers,
deluding yourselves. For if any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are
like those who look at themselves in a mirror; for they look at themselves and,
on going away, immediately forget what they were really like.” I’m
tempted to take issue with James here.
Who doesn’t, after looking at oneself in a mirror, “forget
what they are like?” But maybe that is precisely
his point---we humans are never really able to see ourselves completely. For one thing, our mirror image is
significantly different from how others see us—because it is a reverse image—but
that is only the physical. Psychologists
have known for a long time now, how much of what we think and feel, remains in
“the unconscious.” Because of this, the
people around us---know more about us, or know it sooner---than we do! In the end, I guess, that just proves James’
point: We do tend to deceive ourselves---we delude ourselves by thinking
we’re better than we really are.
Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard likely spent some time thinking about this passage in James’ letter, too. He was fond of describing the Sunday encounter with holy scripture as looking into a mirror. He wrote, and I paraphrase, “Do not look AT the mirror. That is not going to show you want you need to see. Instead, look IN the mirror and see yourself reflected through God’s Word. Remind yourself again and again, “This word of scripture is spoken to me, personally.” This is all fine and well as long as the scripture you are considering is sweet and reassuring, like “Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom,” or, “Come to me, all you who are burdened and weary, and I will give you rest.” But it gets really interesting when the Word is less comforting and more challenging.
When the sacred word challenges us to change what we are doing--our ears do hear what is said---but before it can get into our hearts and into our doing, we’ve changed it just enough---just enough---to be able to live with it---you know, like we absolutely agree with it in principle---but not enough to do anything about it. Like, murder, taking the life of another---Jesus spoke against it and is even one of the Big Ten—the commandments. Do we keep that commandment? No. No, we don’t. Instead we cut ourselves a “little slack,” so to speak--and end up being just what James says we ought not to be, “hearers of the word only.”
For example, in the media recently ran a bit of research under the heading, “The Flesh is Weak: Churchgoers give far less than they think,” the writer of the article says, “A quarter of respondents in a new national study said they tithed 10 percent of their income to charity. But when their donations were checked against income figures, only 3 percent of the group gave more than 5 percent to charity.” In fact, the article goes on to say, “The people most likely to misreport high levels of giving were those who said faith was very important to them and those who attend services more than weekly, according to a report by a team of University of Notre Dame sociologists. I guess that lets you and me are off the hook, ‘cause we only go to church once a week. But personally, I’d have to agree because, time and again by the end of the year, I’m sure I’ve paid my 10% tithe to St. Francis. But for a few years, when I got the Treasurer’s Report, I’d find I’d not done any such thing. And when realizing I was short, but Christmas was right around the corner, I’d find a way to justify not paying all I’d pledged. I hope I have corrected this year, paying all my tithe up front.
The people in this study really did believe they were doing better than they actually were---so were more “hearers of the word,” than “doers,” deluding themselves. James believed that "lip-service" was not enough. He believed that if we truly allowed God’s love and God’s word past our ears and lips, and into our hearts, we would just naturally serve the common good and care for others without having to be prompted or prodded. Jesus and all the prophets agree on this point, too, that we should be paying special attention to the needs of the “widows and orphans,” those who, cannot help themselves. We should do all in our power to serve and help the poor, is what James and Jesus and all the prophets call practicing “religion that is pure and undefiled.” The word for religion here, in the original Greek, is NOT religion--as we think of it. It is more like our word “worship,” which is what we do in response to God’s grace in our lives. Episcopalians “worship” and at the very same time--describe what it is we’re doing. It is the Eucharist---giving thanks for all that God has done, is doing and will do for us---individually, and together as God’s people.
Biblical scholar, William Barclay, in a study of the Letter of James, said “true worship” has nothing to do with vestments, or music or how we manage the liturgy---whether or not one crosses oneself at the right times or genuflects enough. For Barclay, “true worship” only happens as Christians find and meet the needs of our neighbors, and also doing whatever it takes to keep one’s heart pure. In his commentary on the Letters of James and Peter, Barclay said it is perfectly possible for a church (or parish) to be so taken up with the beauty of its buildings and the splendor of its liturgy that it has neither the time nor the money for practical Christian service.
I experienced this first-hand when I was a postulant for Holy Orders sponsored by St. Andrew’s in Ann Arbor. During my “middler” year, they called a new rector when the when the other retired. Anyone would say that St. Andrew’s, lovely Neo-Gothic church, both inside and out--is strikingly beautiful. It is obvious, from how well-maintained the sanctuary and outer-buildings are maintained, and the shiny waxed tiles in the floors---that the people of St. Andrew’s are very proud (and justifiably so) of their church.
Then, I think it was the winter after his first year as rector, that the new priest opened the Undercroft (as it was known) as a small overnight shelter for the homeless, to help get people in out of the bitter cold winter that year. The Vestry and people of the parish immediately, stridently objected. They were certain the homeless people would damage the property, and/or steal from the church. They were afraid the homeless folk might be dangerous. They insisted the new rector close the Undercroft to anyone who was not a member of the parish. In disappointment, and with regret, the new priest left St. Andrew’s, barely three years into being called as rector--because the leadership of the parish was more concerned with property, their “stuff,” than they were with Jesus or the Gospel. The Vestry immediately closed the homeless shelter in the Undercroft.
Some people, who sided with the new priest, left St. Andrew’s to found a new Episcopal mission church nearby. But those who remained at St. Andrew’s prayed hard and fought it out among themselves until they came to a compromise. This is what they decided to do: They opened the Undercroft--not as an overnight shelter--but to the working poor and the homeless, and anyone else--with an invitation to come to St. Andrew’s for a free hot breakfast, every single day of the week---and it is still going strong to this day. They had been “hearers of the word,” but, in the midst of conflict, became “doers,” refusing to continue to delude themselves any longer. They saw themselves mirrored through and within the holy words of scripture, and didn’t like what they saw there, and changed.
In this morning’s gospel, Jesus confronts the Pharisees, sickened by their hypocrisy in maintaining outward observances, while ignoring the inside, when the heart is, where they indulged themselves in being haughty and proud, stealing, lying and slandering, speaking ill about others---pretty much keeping the letter of the Law while ignoring the spirit of the Law. Jesus created a firestorm in his lifetime, with teachings like this, which rages even now in our political discourse, in our conversations and arguments with each other. Talk like this, directed first at the Pharisees--and this morning at you and me--is why so many people turned on Jesus, and demanded he be shut up, permanently--for good.
Did you hear what he said? He is talking to us. He said we “abandon the commandment of God, holding instead, to mere human tradition,” i.e., we ignore God’s command to care for the poor, the disadvantaged, the “orphan and the widow,” we wage wars and commit mass murder of innocent non-combatants; allowing our fears or our human delusions of grandeur to lull us into non-action, into doing only what we feel or think is worth doing---even after hearing God’s sacred word, God’s intentions for our lives.
“Listen to me,” he says, “and take this to heart! It is not what you swallow that pollutes your life, it’s what you vomit, that’s real pollution!” If that sounds like strong language to you, it is only because it is the literal translation from the Greek. Jesus goes on: "It's what comes out of a person that pollutes: hard-heartedness, murder, greed, deceptive dealings, lies and slander, arrogance” (the list goes on) “all these are vomit from the heart.” Jesus never did mince words. He cared nothing about being "nice." He got up in their faces, and was as offensive as he needed to be-- to get their attention. It worked, but they killed him for it. And this--is how and why we, too--you and me---have a hand in Jesus’ torment and murder.
You and I--both then and right now, wherever and whenever we turn away from the poor, the needy, avoid or just step over the bodies of the homeless on the street, or ignore the needs of the sick, the immigrant; the civilian men, and the innocent women and children of Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan, upon whose homes we send death and destruction almost daily. When we ignore them, we are ignoring the Word of God and we are fully complicit with those who killed Jesus to shut him up.
Let
us pray. Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard likely spent some time thinking about this passage in James’ letter, too. He was fond of describing the Sunday encounter with holy scripture as looking into a mirror. He wrote, and I paraphrase, “Do not look AT the mirror. That is not going to show you want you need to see. Instead, look IN the mirror and see yourself reflected through God’s Word. Remind yourself again and again, “This word of scripture is spoken to me, personally.” This is all fine and well as long as the scripture you are considering is sweet and reassuring, like “Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom,” or, “Come to me, all you who are burdened and weary, and I will give you rest.” But it gets really interesting when the Word is less comforting and more challenging.
When the sacred word challenges us to change what we are doing--our ears do hear what is said---but before it can get into our hearts and into our doing, we’ve changed it just enough---just enough---to be able to live with it---you know, like we absolutely agree with it in principle---but not enough to do anything about it. Like, murder, taking the life of another---Jesus spoke against it and is even one of the Big Ten—the commandments. Do we keep that commandment? No. No, we don’t. Instead we cut ourselves a “little slack,” so to speak--and end up being just what James says we ought not to be, “hearers of the word only.”
For example, in the media recently ran a bit of research under the heading, “The Flesh is Weak: Churchgoers give far less than they think,” the writer of the article says, “A quarter of respondents in a new national study said they tithed 10 percent of their income to charity. But when their donations were checked against income figures, only 3 percent of the group gave more than 5 percent to charity.” In fact, the article goes on to say, “The people most likely to misreport high levels of giving were those who said faith was very important to them and those who attend services more than weekly, according to a report by a team of University of Notre Dame sociologists. I guess that lets you and me are off the hook, ‘cause we only go to church once a week. But personally, I’d have to agree because, time and again by the end of the year, I’m sure I’ve paid my 10% tithe to St. Francis. But for a few years, when I got the Treasurer’s Report, I’d find I’d not done any such thing. And when realizing I was short, but Christmas was right around the corner, I’d find a way to justify not paying all I’d pledged. I hope I have corrected this year, paying all my tithe up front.
The people in this study really did believe they were doing better than they actually were---so were more “hearers of the word,” than “doers,” deluding themselves. James believed that "lip-service" was not enough. He believed that if we truly allowed God’s love and God’s word past our ears and lips, and into our hearts, we would just naturally serve the common good and care for others without having to be prompted or prodded. Jesus and all the prophets agree on this point, too, that we should be paying special attention to the needs of the “widows and orphans,” those who, cannot help themselves. We should do all in our power to serve and help the poor, is what James and Jesus and all the prophets call practicing “religion that is pure and undefiled.” The word for religion here, in the original Greek, is NOT religion--as we think of it. It is more like our word “worship,” which is what we do in response to God’s grace in our lives. Episcopalians “worship” and at the very same time--describe what it is we’re doing. It is the Eucharist---giving thanks for all that God has done, is doing and will do for us---individually, and together as God’s people.
Biblical scholar, William Barclay, in a study of the Letter of James, said “true worship” has nothing to do with vestments, or music or how we manage the liturgy---whether or not one crosses oneself at the right times or genuflects enough. For Barclay, “true worship” only happens as Christians find and meet the needs of our neighbors, and also doing whatever it takes to keep one’s heart pure. In his commentary on the Letters of James and Peter, Barclay said it is perfectly possible for a church (or parish) to be so taken up with the beauty of its buildings and the splendor of its liturgy that it has neither the time nor the money for practical Christian service.
I experienced this first-hand when I was a postulant for Holy Orders sponsored by St. Andrew’s in Ann Arbor. During my “middler” year, they called a new rector when the when the other retired. Anyone would say that St. Andrew’s, lovely Neo-Gothic church, both inside and out--is strikingly beautiful. It is obvious, from how well-maintained the sanctuary and outer-buildings are maintained, and the shiny waxed tiles in the floors---that the people of St. Andrew’s are very proud (and justifiably so) of their church.
Then, I think it was the winter after his first year as rector, that the new priest opened the Undercroft (as it was known) as a small overnight shelter for the homeless, to help get people in out of the bitter cold winter that year. The Vestry and people of the parish immediately, stridently objected. They were certain the homeless people would damage the property, and/or steal from the church. They were afraid the homeless folk might be dangerous. They insisted the new rector close the Undercroft to anyone who was not a member of the parish. In disappointment, and with regret, the new priest left St. Andrew’s, barely three years into being called as rector--because the leadership of the parish was more concerned with property, their “stuff,” than they were with Jesus or the Gospel. The Vestry immediately closed the homeless shelter in the Undercroft.
Some people, who sided with the new priest, left St. Andrew’s to found a new Episcopal mission church nearby. But those who remained at St. Andrew’s prayed hard and fought it out among themselves until they came to a compromise. This is what they decided to do: They opened the Undercroft--not as an overnight shelter--but to the working poor and the homeless, and anyone else--with an invitation to come to St. Andrew’s for a free hot breakfast, every single day of the week---and it is still going strong to this day. They had been “hearers of the word,” but, in the midst of conflict, became “doers,” refusing to continue to delude themselves any longer. They saw themselves mirrored through and within the holy words of scripture, and didn’t like what they saw there, and changed.
In this morning’s gospel, Jesus confronts the Pharisees, sickened by their hypocrisy in maintaining outward observances, while ignoring the inside, when the heart is, where they indulged themselves in being haughty and proud, stealing, lying and slandering, speaking ill about others---pretty much keeping the letter of the Law while ignoring the spirit of the Law. Jesus created a firestorm in his lifetime, with teachings like this, which rages even now in our political discourse, in our conversations and arguments with each other. Talk like this, directed first at the Pharisees--and this morning at you and me--is why so many people turned on Jesus, and demanded he be shut up, permanently--for good.
Did you hear what he said? He is talking to us. He said we “abandon the commandment of God, holding instead, to mere human tradition,” i.e., we ignore God’s command to care for the poor, the disadvantaged, the “orphan and the widow,” we wage wars and commit mass murder of innocent non-combatants; allowing our fears or our human delusions of grandeur to lull us into non-action, into doing only what we feel or think is worth doing---even after hearing God’s sacred word, God’s intentions for our lives.
“Listen to me,” he says, “and take this to heart! It is not what you swallow that pollutes your life, it’s what you vomit, that’s real pollution!” If that sounds like strong language to you, it is only because it is the literal translation from the Greek. Jesus goes on: "It's what comes out of a person that pollutes: hard-heartedness, murder, greed, deceptive dealings, lies and slander, arrogance” (the list goes on) “all these are vomit from the heart.” Jesus never did mince words. He cared nothing about being "nice." He got up in their faces, and was as offensive as he needed to be-- to get their attention. It worked, but they killed him for it. And this--is how and why we, too--you and me---have a hand in Jesus’ torment and murder.
You and I--both then and right now, wherever and whenever we turn away from the poor, the needy, avoid or just step over the bodies of the homeless on the street, or ignore the needs of the sick, the immigrant; the civilian men, and the innocent women and children of Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan, upon whose homes we send death and destruction almost daily. When we ignore them, we are ignoring the Word of God and we are fully complicit with those who killed Jesus to shut him up.
Gracious
God, help us to not only hear your words
and understand them, but to also to finally see our way clear to doing those
things that will teach us what is true life in you; freed from delusion and
deceit, knowing and doing those things that bring us to loving our neighbor as
ourselves, every time and at every opportunity---whether close at
hand in our families, neighborhoods, city, state and nation--- and farther out,
to the nations of the world. Bless our lame and limping attempts at doing
your will, strengthen us along your ways; because no matter our blindness, or
whatever delusion may lead us astray, we know at least this—that we are yours
now and always, and we look to you for guidance. Help us in our ignorance and blind
stubbornness, we pray, in the name of your son, Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.
A blessing to find your blog. Thank you for this thought-provoking post.
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