Sunday, September 2, 2012

Doers of the Word


Sermon text: James 1:17-27


                Alcoholics Anonymous: The Story of How Many Thousands of Men and Women Have Recovered from Alcoholism is the 1939 self-help book written by the founders of AA.  It has become known to most as The Big Book.  It contains stories of struggle, as well as solutions and rules to help addicts find recovery.  Sounds like a book we all know well.  It was used as the blueprint for what is now the 12-step program and the book has sold over 30 million copies, landing it on Time magazine’s top 100 most influential books written since the Magazine was founded in 1923.

            The book is not complex or daunting.  It is very honest and approachable and intended for those struggling with addiction to be a help for those taking the first steps on the long road to recovery, a road that has no end in this life.  And many alcoholics read it over and over on this journey.  It has experience that resonates and advice that must be heard over and over to sink in, and is heard anew and in fresh ways each time.  Whether the journey is new, or the journey has been long and arduous, the struggles and the solutions are real and true.

            The letter of James from which we read this morning is a similar book for us as believers.  It contains advice to new Christians, baby believers, new converts.  However, the struggles and sage wisdom offered by its author ring true for us in each reading and give us the reminders we need for Christian living, for how to live as believers on this journey of faith, our road to redemption, a road that has no end in this life.

            James is a book to which we can return over and over as we grow in faith and learn again the lessons we have not yet fully learned.  James reminds us so often that we deceive ourselves about our own spiritual maturity.  Most of us have been Christians for so long we take the basics for granted.  Sports teams get into big trouble for this all the time.  It’s easy for a dedicated athlete on a great college or professional team to think they’ve already done all the hard work already and now they just have to show up.  There’s nothing left to learn or practice or improve.  Winning is now just a birthright or matter of chance.  But how often has a winning team risen from the coaching efforts of a titan who says, “we’re going back to the basics?  We’re going back to the fundamentals.”

            If you followed the rise and eventual victory of the Lake Placid US Hockey Gold Medal Team or have seen the film Miracle, you know that the coach did have a new style of hockey… a mixture of two already well-established styles (Canadian and Russian) and some new ideas about picking players… but everything about their training and their victory… was about going back to the basics.  They would practice longer, they’d pass and they’d skate and they’d train harder.  Everything they did was focusing on, practicing and perfecting the very things they’d learned as peewee hockey players.

            And brothers and sisters, that’s what the writer of James implores in his letter, implores his recipient, implores us to do, to practice the basics, to perfect them.  This morning, we read from the first chapter of his letter, his introduction.  We hear his instruction to be doers and not hearers only, as our temptation is as human beings and believers.  This is his preface to the rest of his letter.  He’s saying, “let this sink in real good because I don’t want you to merely ponder my words, but to jump up the minute I’m done talking and go and DO.”

            And as Presbyterians, we’re super good at pondering.  We’ve made it an art, an ideal, something to which we aspire.  When one of you comes to me or Pattie or John during the week and says, “I’ still thinking about that sermon you preached this week…” we feel we’ve really nailed it.  But I think about people who have started non-profits and movements, who have made a difference in their communities or in raising their kids or inspiring students, and their stories go much beyond pondering.  Their stories start with conviction, with action.  I heard the sermon, I heard that hymn sung, I heard that minute for mission and I did.”  They walked right out of church, out of Bible study, out of Sunday school, back from mission trip and they turned from being an active hearer… to a DOER.

            If you walk out of here today mid-service, I’ll assume you were inspired to immediately go change this world… and I’m going to ask how it went.  If you just went to the bathroom, that’s going to be an awkward conversation for both of us.  So for just this week… hold it.

            So how do we listen to the Word today and become DOERS, leaving here to go make a difference?  According to Webster, a verb is an action word.  According to my kindergarten teacher, it’s a word on the go.  And if we Christians, if this church is what we say it is… a church on the move… then we should be looking for verbs in James’ letter.  Because James tells us that a doer acts and will be blessed in his doing. And he closes our chapter after this advice with just two verses.  And in these verses, we get our verbs.  In verse 26, we get ‘thinking,’ ‘bridling,’ and ‘deceiving.’  James tells us that if we think that we can go around shooting off at the mouth without any restraint, we are not only deceiving ourselves, but our entire religion is worthless.  That which we say without thinking reflects not only poorly on us as a person, but on our entire religion.  That’s a powerful burden and one that is completely true.  Think of how you’ve viewed an entire band for what a singer says, what you think of Hollywood for one actor’s words, for millions in a political party or nation for the words of the one holding the microphone.

            I’ve got a good bit of time around horses, and if you have too, you know the importance of a bridle.  Its intent is not to limit the freedom of a horse or to harm it.  The bridle is intended to the benefit of a horse and its rider.  With a bridle, you can lead a horse to the best water, or into a stable where it will be safe during a storm.  Without it, a horse may lead itself to dirty water or run off during a storm.  The bridle is the tool of the horse’s rider that helps the horse.  And so it is with our tongues, with our words.  They need a bridle; they need our wisdom to guide them from danger and destruction to that which is life-giving.

            We gain wisdom from experience and scripture and wise instruction from others.  My father offered a lot of advice to me as a kid.  “Measure twice, cut once… Wash a car from the top down… Don’t tell your mom about this speeding ticket.”  But the one nugget of wisdom I recall was about bridling my tongue… “Before you say something to someone, ask… is it true… is it kind… is it necessary?”  If it doesn’t pass these tests, chances are, you’re better off keeping it to yourself.  I’m not sure my dad was always as successful at that as he hoped I would be, but it was sage wisdom.

            As good Presbyterians, if there’s one thing we’re almost as good at as pondering, it’s pondering aloud.  A committee is nothing more than a collection of people pondering aloud.  An effective committee does a lot of listening and praying as well, but it’s the pondering together aloud that is the defining characteristic.  Presbyterians are at their best when they ponder aloud together, pray together and listen to one another and the Spirit.  It’s how the denomination was formed.  It’s how we call pastors.  It’s how we make decisions for the life and future of the church.  It’s how we establish confessions and for our government and rules.

            But at our worst, pondering aloud is like a wild bucking bronco.  It can be quite something to watch, mesmerizing and powerful, but utterly destructive.  Most of the time, it’s harmless enough.  No one is close enough to get kicked.  But at its very worst, pondering aloud is just gossip.  And while we may not address it often or with much authority as Presbyterians, it’s cancerous and deadly.  The versaity of gossip is certainly one of the problems, but not the only one.  Suicide is rampant in our kids’ schools in this day and age.  Bullying is the well-defined culprit.  Broadly, it’s responsible for this tragic epidemic.  But its tools are not all so obvious.  Sometimes it’s physical abuse.  Sometimes it’s name-calling and exclusion.  And just as often, kids recount how their reputations and identities are marred by rumors and accusations… by gossip.  Gossip is bullying at its most nefarious.

            I spent a summer in college as the youth director for a small rural Baptist church in Burlington, NC, learning much in my first job in ministry.  I learned I was very Presbyterian that summer.  But I learned more from the Baptists than I ever expected.  They taught me to pray unceasingly and to expect God to answer.  They taught me to bravely share my faith and that keeping it to myself was both safe and selfish.  I had good news to share and I should treat it as such.  One of the most meaningful things they taught me was a thing or two about bridling.

            As a youth worker, I had become accustom to discussing the problems (and solutions) of the kids with which we worked.  Youth workers do it.  Teachers and administrators do it.  Managers do it.  It’s commonplace, in ministry, teaching and management.  What isn’t so commonplace was at the church I served… they guided those conversations to a closing prayer in which they prayed for God’s guidance and help to teach the youth.  Unbridled pondering aloud is gossip.  Pondering aloud bridled by wisdom and the Holy Spirit is Christ moving in his people.  It’s ministry.  Guided by thoughts of what is true, what is kind and what is necessary to say is how we bridle our speech and how we become doers of the Word and not hearers only.

            I won’t ask us to raise our hands and admit how often we each stand in a cluster of folks and gossip, or how many times you forwarded on a little tidbit about a coworker or an actress or a politician on Facebook before determining if it was true, let alone kind or necessary.  I won’t ask you because I know precisely how guilty of such things I am every single day.  We leave here feeling very proud that we’ve heard the scripture or heard the whole sermon.  And I leave here hoping those things are true and feeling very successful if those things are true.  But we honor God most and we show our religion worthwhile when we leave here and make apparent we are doers of the Word and not hearers only.

            When we find ourselves in the midst of people sharing idle gossip about friends or family, or even strangers, famous, powerful or rich, we have the choice to participate, to ignore, or perhaps even to challenge that.  We have the choice to bridle our tongues with wisdom, to ask what is true, what is kind and what is necessary, everyday.  We have the choice to pray and to listen for God about how to respond to the things we hear and learn, and how not to deceive ourselves and our hearts.

            Because James signs off from this chapter before moving on with verse 27… he defines PURE and undefiled religion with a few more verbs… Visiting orphans and widows in their affliction… to keep oneself unstained from the world.  And if you can’t walk away from a long conversation about something or someone feeling like it was a better use of your time than visiting a widow or an orphan or someone sick or in prison or feeding a hungry person.  If you consider those things and feel a twinge of guilt or doubt about how “unstained by the world” that conversation truly was, perhaps as a doer of the Word, you can consider bridling your tongue, restraining your passion, your indignation, or your curiosity for the sake of extending grace to another and bringing honor to your God and your faith.

            As we enter a season of political upheaval and debate, I would not encourage you to merely be mild-mannered Christians, passionless, polite and powerless.  I don’t think James is recommending that.  I don’t think James or Jesus would suggest in word or in deed that you not speak truth to power, to question and challenge your leaders.  But it would be a helpful distinction to pause and consider if you are speaking truth to power or speaking truth to gain power yourself or just to take it from someone you dislike or with whom you disagree.  There is great temptation to unseat your opponent instead of listening to and loving them.  But then you’re back to being a Zax, unbudged in your tracks and useless.  You cannot be a doer, if you’re stuck where you stand as the immovable object in the path of your enemy.  Immovable objects are not verbs.  They are not on the move.

            James calls us to be like Christ, to be doers, and he gives us his wisdom.  And we learn from this passage that we can bridle our tongues, bridle our words, and honor God by speaking in wisdom.  We can ask ourselves what is true, what is kind and what is necessary and we can move from pondering to action, from gossip to Godly action.  We can move from words to widows and orphans, the sick and the hungry, from words of oppression to freeing the oppressed.  Do not merely ponder this sermon.  Do not merely ponder the words of James.  Leave this place and be a doer of the Word.  Leave here and consider how you can bridle your own words and your own heart.  Challenge your friends, your family and your leaders to consider those things which are true, kind and necessary.  Put a sticky note on your computer or by your phone and bridle that which you would say to others.

            To be a doer of the Word is to live humbly, to accept the challenges of scripture and your faith community and to extend that challenge in love to the people you love… and to those you don’t yet love.  Do not be content to be a hearer only.  I would pray for you and for me that we never be content so long as we are hearers only… stained by our world, passively allowing injustice to those in need while we gossip and speak idly.

            We are called to be doers of the Word, and we must use our own words to bring good news to those who need it, to speak words of kindness and comfort, of challenge and support, of grace and mercy, not of hate and intolerance, slander and cruelty.  We cannot speak badly to and about one another, about our political and ideological enemies, other countries and people of other faiths.  We must follow the example of Christ and speak in love and forgiveness, even to those who hurt and oppress us.  Jesus’ last words were to forgive those who killed him in anger and jealousy and hate.  How much more are we called to say and to do?

            I have not always done this well, but I can say the closest thing to a miracle that I’ve ever witnessed is the reaction of those who have hurt me to the kindness I have shown them.  To be a doer of the Word and not just a hearer is a powerful testimony to the grace of the God in who we believe.

            I’ve always loved the old hymn and its refrain that calls, “Spirit of restlessness, stir us from placidness.”  For that is what the Spirit does.  May the Spirit be present in our lives, stirring each of us from our placidness to lives of restlessness, to lives of action…

Let us pray…

Oh Lord, send your spirit as you sent it to your son to drive us from this place to the wilderness.  Call us to needs and strengthen us to deeds in your name.  Amen.

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