Rev. Tara Barber
The Community Church of Sebastopol
August 31, 2003
James I: 17-27
All right. You heard the words. The summer is over. Labor Day weekend is here, and we’ve got to get to work. Shall we review our to-do list?
w Sign up for family camp
w Talk with Debbie about leading a workshop with the elementary children
w Volunteer for the Community Carnival
w Encourage all our friends and neighbors to join us for Launch Sunday
And then when we go home, what’s on that to-do list? Yardwork? Back-to-school shopping? Cleaning out the old junk in the garage or attic? Or my favorite – dealing with all the paperwork for insurance and whatnot.
You know, if we look to the book of James – which by the way reads more like a Greek code of ethics, than a letter, we find another long to-do list. Martin Luther thought that the book of James should be stricken from the Bible because it emphasized what we need to DO, and Luther was afraid that we would forget that it’s what God does that is important, and that there is nothing we can do to earn God’s grace.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Back to the to-do list – with help from the book of James, Chapter 1:
w Be quick to listen
w Be slow to speak and slow to anger
w Rid yourself of sordidness and rank growth of wickedness. – that means refrain from dirty, unpleasant or morally degrading behavior
w Welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls -- in other words – pay attention to God speaking in you –because it is God’s wisdom in you that will bring healing.
w Be Doers of the Word not merely hearers that deceive themselves.
w Look into the law and persevere – take action
w Bridle your tongues
w Care for widows and orphans
w Keep yourself unstained by the world.
Whew. I think it’s more than I want to tackle today – maybe even more than I can imagine doing consistently in this lifetime.
Jim Wallis, though, has encouraged me to look again at the book of James, and the call to do. In his book, Faith Works, he challenges us to remember that “…in the Bible, faith is not something you possess, but rather something you practice. You have to put it into action or it really doesn’t mean anything. Faith changes things…The Bible begins with the creation story, how God created the world and all its creatures, including us. From the beginning, the venue of faith is the world…The (very) place we look to find the face of God is our life in the world… Spiritual principles teach us that the best things we do for others are also the best things we do for ourselves, and that we are connected to one another whether we like it or not. Real security, faith reminds us, is found through widening and deepening our circle of community...”
How much of your to-do list, or mine, really helps to deepen our community? How much of what we do is rooted in faith?
Anne Lammot writes of a day when she and her son Sam were at the beach near San Quentin prison. It was the day that they saw the ugliest real life thing that her five-year old son had ever witnessed. Of course, that’s not why they went to the beach. They had gone with their dog Sadie to throw sticks, build in the sand and listen. “The sound of the surf,” she writes, “the big washing machine of ocean, sometimes seems to rinse out my brain, or at any rate, it expands me and it slows me down.”
On this day as they sat near the steps, a man with a big golden retriever walked by and stood looking out over the ocean. Sam’s dog Sadie walked over to greet the golden retriever. The man tugged gently on the retriever’s leash to get his dog to walk down the beach, but the dog turned to Sadie one more time and took a step toward her. And the man bent down and picked up a stick from the ground and smashed it into his dog’s rib cage. The dog flinched but didn’t even yelp. Sam did, though. Anne writes, all I could do was whisper, “No.” Sadie looked at the other dog and then raced over to Anne and Sam. The retriever turned to watch her, and the man hit her again in the ribs. Then they began to walk down the beach.
She continues, “I knew on the beach that Jesus would have stepped in to save the dog, and he would have been loving the dog beater as he did so. (Jesus) would have been seeing the dog beater’s need and fear.”
Well, like the author, I am certainly not there yet. She writes, “I myself am a bit more into blame and revenge; also, I’ve found that self-righteousness is very comforting. But Jesus is quite clear on this point. He does not mince words. (Jesus) says you have to love the whiners, the bullies, and the people who think they’re better than you. And you have to stick up for the innocent.”
That day on the beach, though, Anne sat, “frozen, like in a dream where your feet weigh fifty pounds each and the danger is almost upon you. Sam began to cry. I put my arm around him, but he shook it off. ‘Do something,’ he whispered. ‘Do something.’
By this time the man was further down the beach. Suddenly, he yanked his dog into a standing position and held her there. He pulled back on the leash even harder so that her head tipped all the way back and her nose pointed straight into the air. Sam cried out again.
‘Stop,’ I quietly called to the man. ‘Stop,’ I said again, a bit louder, but still squeaky. I was trying to love him but get him to stop hurting his dog, but neither was working.
Another mother and her children were nearby, and witnessed the whole thing. The other mother shouted at the top of her lungs like a warrior, ‘Stop! I am going to call the police now! I am going to have you arrested.’
‘You say something, Mama,’ whispered Sam, and this is what I said. ‘I am going to call the police, too!’ The man laughed.
I sat down on the sand breathless with shame and failure. God, I thought, some defender of the weak (I am). ‘Why did you let him get away?’ Sam demanded.
‘I was just so afraid, Sam.’ I confessed. Sam sighed with exasperation. I felt very low. Sadie, Sam and I got up to take a walk down the beach, subdued and confused. I felt such a sense of my weak exposed self out in the open.
Once I had seen a friend of mine save a child from under a rearing horse. I had always imagined I was capable of this, too. But now I could see I wasn’t. Please, I prayed. I didn’t even know what I was asking for, but please (God). When I was young I would have felt, ‘What’s the point of trying to be good if the people who aren’t even trying get to be equally loved?’ Now, I don’t know much of anything for sure. Only that I am loved – as is.”
Being doer’s means that we act out of a sense of being loved – just as we are. If we are really being doers, then the to-do list changes, and the priorities shift. Being doer’s means that we pay attention to what is happening around us, and some how find what it takes to respond to the needs in the world – and in our community.
Jim Wallis tells of a community meeting he attended. “The church hall was full of ordinary people from a middle-sized town in the Pacific Northwest. The subject was youth violence…a wide collection of young people (had been gathered)…soon (they) began to share their personal sagas of how they had fallen through the cracks and ended up on the street…Slowly (the adults) began to see these kids as ‘our children’ and not just as ‘gang members’…Somebody asked what they could do. One of the kids said, ‘I dunno, man, maybe you could figure out what you do best and just use it.’”
After a quiet pause, a handful of adults began to stand and tell of one way they could use what they had. Wallis continues, “My favorite was a middle-aged woman who stood up and said, ‘I’m not the dean of any college, the pastor of a church, or the president of a company, but I’ve got something to offer, too. I work at the McDonald’s downtown and get a morning and afternoon break. Lots of you kids said you’ve got nobody to talk to. Well, now you know where to find me, and I’ll even buy you a cup of coffee.’
Offering whatever you have and whatever you are is enough. Too many people don’t believe that, so they don’t get involved. Because we can’t do what we think would really make a big difference we don’t offer our own gift – whatever that is.”
Being doers. Faithful, hopeful, present people who take action. Even when we are scared. Even when the other ‘to-do’s’ clamor for our attention. Yes, the laundry will still need to get done. And when we reach out and respond to one another, we, too, will be healed and re-connected to the Spirit that flows within and among us. Be a doer. Not because God will love you any more, not because you should, be a doer because that is what will make this world more loving, more just, more like God dreams.