True Religion

Scripture can be found here

I don’t know about you, but I grew up absolutely sure that Jesus was an only child. (It’s a Catholic thing.) But later, when I read the gospels with a greater attention for detail, I saw, for instance, exactly how Jesus’ neighbors in Nazareth tried to wave away his mission and his power and his eloquence by focusing on how well they knew him. Not Jesus, they said. “Isn’t his father a carpenter? Isn’t his mother Mary? Don’t we know his brothers—James, and Joseph, and Simon, and Judas? Don’t we know his sisters?” In other words, he couldn’t possibly be a prophet. He couldn’t possibly have the power of God surging through him. He’s just a neighborhood kid.

I learned that Jesus had brothers, and sisters, too, though we don’t know their names. Not only did Jesus have siblings, he also fought with them, in the time-honored tradition of all siblings. That’s that uncomfortable story about Jesus’ mother and brothers trying to get through a huge crowd to see him, and that’s because, according to Mark’s gospel, they think he has gone out of his mind. It has something to do with casting out demons. To that, Jesus replies: those who do the will of God are my mother and my sisters and brothers (Mark 3:20-35). But Jesus eventually finds common ground with at least one brother, James.

James was a leader of the early church. In the Acts of the Apostles James is a recognized authority who helps to settle controversies about who exactly is welcome into the fellowship of the church. He is mentioned in two of the letters of Paul. Several church Fathers refer to him as an apostle, and mention that he served as overseer of all the churches in Jerusalem. (The modern day term for that is: bishop.)

Beginning in the year 253 CE, James was recognized as the author of this letter, from which I’ve just read…though today, not all scholars agree about that.

I do. For one thing, James’ letter is thoroughly Jewish—he knows his scripture, he knows intimately the prophets and other pillars of Jewish thought.

Take the phrase, “Father of lights.” That phrase is found as a title for God in the Dead Sea Scrolls. And James echoes the prophets when he talks about God’s unchanging faithfulness. And when he talks about the implanted word in our souls, he’s probably remembering a passage from Deuteronomy: “No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe” (Deut. 30:14). In fact, one commentator has pointed out that, if we were to remove the name of Jesus from the two places where it occurs in this letter, it would be a perfectly good address to the synagogue communities of the Diaspora, Jews all over the ancient world.

But the purpose of James’ letter isn’t to show off his Jewish bona fides. It’s to get to the heart of the matter which, for James, at least, is this: How do we walk in Jesus’ Way? What does being a follower of Jesus look like?

And the answer to that can be found right here, in our passage, verse 22: “But be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves” (James 1:22).

And there it is, the gauntlet has been thrown down. But this time it’s not Jesus who James is fighting with. It’s the apostle Paul.

Being Presbyterians, we like to refer to Paul a lot (whether we know it or not). We talk a lot about grace—grace overflowing, God who has loved us from before the beginning of time. God who loves us, not because we are good, but because God is good, and God is love. This is a major theme in Paul’s writing. Take this, from his letter to the Galatians: “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God— not the result of works, so that no one may boast.”

You see where I’m going with this. This is another reason I believe this letter really is written by the brother of Jesus. James seems to be answering Paul, pretty directly. He’s confident enough in his own authority to take on the most powerful apostle of the day.

He writes,

But be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves. 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 like. But those who look into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and persevere, being not hearers who forget but doers who act—they will be blessed in their doing.
~James 1:22-25

James doesn’t believe that faith alone is sufficient. As far as he’s concerned if our faith doesn’t lead us to action, it’s not real. It’s not true religion. And this is not an issue that was unique to the early church. This conflict has been with us for the entire history of Christianity. 

It drove the Reformer Martin Luther crazy. He did not like James’ focus on works, which he found contrary to Paul’s teaching; he also didn’t like the fact that James mentions Jesus so few times. He wrote, “Therefore St James’ epistle is really an epistle of straw, compared to these others, for it has nothing of the nature of the Gospel about it.”  At one point he didn’t consider the letter of James to be a part of the New Testament at all; he considered it an appendix to the other writings.  

The controversy is still with us today. In some quarters, Presbyterians’ heart for focusing on things such as racial justice, anti-poverty work, and Jesus’ own ways of radical welcome cause people to say we’re not really Christians.  

But if the gospel doesn’t change how we live our lives, have we really committed to following Jesus? Wouldn’t the brother of Jesus know as well as anyone what his mind was on this? True religion, according to James, consists in loving our neighbor, especially those who are desperately in need. After all, if we don’t love our neighbor, whom we can see, how can we love God, whom we cannot see? (1 John 4, paraphrased)

I suspect James and Paul were closer together on this matter than this dispute would suggest. After all, it was Paul who gave us the beautiful image of the Body of Christ, made up of all of us, which suggests that we are more intimately bound together than we can really understand. Weep with those who are weeping, laugh with those who laugh, Paul writes—and we can see James’ definition of real faith opening up in people who, of course, would reach out to those who are hurting. When they hurt, we hurt. 

For the past several weeks we have all been witness to the devastating events in Afghanistan following the US removal of most of its combat forces. The plight for those trying to leave the country has been dire, and even resulted in a suicide bombing that took more than 100 lives, including at least fourteen US service members. Anyone who is paying attention to the news knows that this is a horrible situation, and that help is needed. This week the Binghamton United Presbyterian Church was approached by a local man, an immigrant from Afghanistan who has extensive connections with friends and family who are still there. He asked for help finding sponsors for individuals and families who will seek refuge in the United States.  

Within hours local faith communities were sharing the information and seeking to figure out exactly how we might support this effort. Each of us, no matter what religion, are doing exactly as James asks: we are trying to be doers of the word, and not merely hearers, acting on the truths revealed to us by the God of our understanding. We know our siblings in Afghanistan are hurting, and of course we want to reach out. Of course we want to do all we can to offer welcome, to show love, to make those who are seeking shelter strangers no more. Religion that pleases God is this: to care for God’s children in their distress. We are being given the incredible privilege of an opportunity to do exactly that.

Thanks be to God. Amen.