 By Rev. Heather J. Blais, Rector
This month we have been weaving our way through The Letter of James.* While this text is often attributed to James, the brother of Jesus and the head of the church in Jerusalem, scholars believe this is unlikely. It’s helpful to remember that this letter is not written to a specific community within the early Church, but rather is a general missive directed to Jewish followers of Jesus. Scholars believe this letter may have been written in response to Paul’s statements that Gentile converts need not be required to follow Jewish law. At the time, Paul was preaching radical hospitality. He was trying to help Jewish and Gentile Christians understand that in order to become a follower of Jesus, one was not expected to follow Jewish rituals of conversion - such as circumcision - or be required to follow a special diet. While these topics may seem a bit odd to us today, they were incredibly important questions for those grappling with Jewish Christian identity. Paul emphasized that we are saved by God’s grace alone, and there was no amount of ‘works’ that we could ever do to earn such a gift. Rather it was a gift given out of God’s abundance and love. While it was perfectly fine for Jewish followers of Jesus to continue observing Jewish law, Gentile followers of Jesus were not expected to become Jewish in order to be accepted into the early Church. To do so, in Paul’s perspective, was to become unnecessarily bogged down by our human need to follow rules for rules sake. Paul thought it was much more important to remain faithful to the spirit of the law, as preached by Jesus. That said, some Gentile Christian converts took Paul’s interpretation too far. There were some who received Paul’s teachings of grace as permission to engage in lawlessness. After all, if grace saved them, there was no need to live by any set of moral beliefs. It’s the kind of thing that sounds so incredibly foolish that it’s a little hard to believe anyone could actually interpret it that way. But as humans, we are frequently looking for quick answers and shortcuts. Even though, as Pippin rightfully argues in The Fellowship of the Ring, “‘Short cuts make long delays…’” Some scholars believe James is responding to this very troubling dynamic. He doesn’t bother picking up the debate about diet or circumcision. Instead, he argues that faith inherently relates to a set of beliefs, and that ‘works’, or actions, are the natural outgrowth of faith.* Commentator Herbert Basser observes: “‘Works’ for James means obedience to God’s word, and so behaving in a way marked by love.” The entire letter is about the morality that shapes our life of faith. Today’s excerpt from James’ letter is focused on wisdom. As human beings, we have so many countless, unanswered questions. Some questions arise when we come face to face with hardship, pain, uncertainty, and suffering, while others burst into life out of experiences that leave us full of joy and wonder. It’s possible that some of the most important questions we will ever grapple with relate to our pursuit of wisdom. Questions such as:
In his eloquent letter, James points out there are different kinds of wisdom. There is an earthly, wicked wisdom that we might call ‘unspiritual wisdom’.* It’s worth noting that ‘earthly’ wisdom is not referencing the created world or the nonhuman creation that God brought into being. Rather, the author refers to human society, which so often loses track of the common good or God’s vision for creation. There are typically some unsavory things that lay beneath the surface of unspiritual wisdom, such as ‘bitter envy’, ‘selfish ambition’, and living in a continual state of denial. When our self preservation is our dominant motivator, we will likely find ourselves following a baseless, selfish form of faux wisdom. James astutely describes the ‘cravings that are at war within us’ that lead us to do things we know intellectually are not healthy or in keeping with God’s vision for creation. Yet, often enough, our impulses, or our greed, or our trauma, or our fears can take us down dicey paths that it can become increasingly difficult to navigate our way out of. James also describes a divine, gentle wisdom that we might call ‘spiritual wisdom’. This form of wisdom has an entirely different set of characteristics, such as a sense of peace, a willingness to yield, an abundance of mercy and generosity focused on the greater good and love of neighbor. This kind of wisdom shows no partiality or hypocrisy. While spiritual wisdom does not promise an easier life, there is abundant evidence that when we walk with God, seeking to listen for the divine, we will be more equipped to navigate challenging paths and not feel quite so alone. While spiritual wisdom may sound like the clear cut winner, we often find ourselves seeking out the unspiritual wisdom offered by our society. The faux wisdom offered typically looks like quick answers, entertaining distractions, and the opportunity to numb our questions into silent submission, at least until tomorrow. Faux wisdom so often wins out because spiritual wisdom, and its accompanying life of faith, is hard work. Saying ‘yes’ to Jesus and this radically wild Way of Love, is to say ‘yes’ to a life of ongoing self-examination and reflection, humility, change, and growth. A life of faith requires us to ground our beliefs in God’s love, and to be willing to regularly examine our thoughts, words, and deeds; to pay attention to our motivations and acknowledge when our own selfishness gets in the way. To ask ourselves and explore:
While I may not have always recognized it this way, my childhood was formed as much by the Church, as it was by the alcoholism within the heart of my family. Looking back, I can see how one parent found faux wisdom, while another found spiritual wisdom. My father attempted to reckon with his own trauma by buying into the faux wisdom of alcohol. Unfortunately, what surely started out as a form of self medicating led him to become another alcoholic in our family tree, and only brought him further down a path of despair. A path that led to the end of just about every meaningful relationship, that led to subsequent addictions, and what must at times feel like an inescapable pit. There came a point in my early childhood, when my mother knew it was time for us to leave. She recognized that her spouse’s decline into alcoholism was making things rapidly worse and unsafe for the two of us. I watched her choose a different path, a life spent in pursuit of spiritual wisdom. As she reckoned with his addiction and her role in their marriage, she found Al-anon, which is a mutual support group for people who have been affected by a loved one's drinking. Through regular participation in this support group, she acknowledged her own powerlessness over alcohol, and began leaning on her faith more deeply. She worked through the 12 steps. An important part of taking those steps is making “a searching and fearless moral inventory”, and then committing to be faithful to “continuing to take personal inventory and when we’re wrong promptly admit it.”** I share this, with my mother’s permission, because I had the benefit of growing up watching these two approaches to navigating the pain and challenges of this life. My father kept looking for answers in all of the places society told him to look, places that involved selfishness and abandoning responsibilities and relationships. At the same time, I watched my mom take the work of her moral inventory seriously. This rigorous work of self examination and reflection in the context of a life of faith has led her to grow and be changed in ways that she never would have imagined. Here we are, many years later, and she takes the work just as seriously as she did in the early days of taking a personal inventory. And it’s not to say that she, or anyone who seeks out spiritual wisdom, is going to get it right all the time. That’s impossible, and is more about our desire than what God wants from us. The difference is the daily choice to recalibrate our attentions in such a way that we remember God alone is the source of true wisdom. Watching her over the years taught me from an early age that a life of faith is not passive but rather is incredibly active. A life of faith means we are committing to keep growing, to keep doing our work, to keep seeking out God in all things, and that God’s love is the guide to living a good and meaningful life. In this busy and fast paced life, it is tempting to see our faith and the rituals of the church as mere comfort food. A bit of honey as we race towards the finish line. Yet our Creator longs for such a richer and more meaningful life of faith for us than mere comfort food. Our Creator longs to see us flourish and grow, to be challenged and changed. To see that we are part of an interconnected web of relationships that will be healthier when we function out of love and a commitment to ongoing self examination and reflection. As we prepare to head back out into the world today, I would invite each of us to do some reflecting. To ask ourselves:
Amen. Lectionary Readings: Proverbs 31:10-31 Psalm 1 James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a Mark 9:30-37 * Commentary in this paragraph is drawn from The Jewish Annotated New Testament, p. 489, 496. ** Al-anon https://al-anon.org/
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