Tag: James

Is There Worthless Religion?

James 1:17-27

Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

Do you dare to turn on the news lately? Do you dare to listen or read the stories coming out of Southern Europe, the Balkans, and North Africa?

There is a migrant crisis, so it is being called. These common words obscure the horror of what is actually going on. The civil war in Syria, now four years strong, has displaced millions and millions of people. Ten million, as an estimate in March, are fleeing ISIS, the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria. The Islamic State is associated with the horrors of Boko Haram, and chemical warfare, suicide bombers in the middle of mosques, churches, and temples, and public beheadings.

These ‘migrants’ are refugees. Every day people, Jews and Christians, Muslims and athiests, who are fleeing the take-over of the Islamic State. For those pushing the Islamic State are not normal Muslims – but a group teaching that the end of the world is nigh, and they must found a state under ancient Muslim laws since God is watching and soon to send the final prophets. Since the end is near, and this is God we are dealing with, life is valueless. Compromise is not wanted or needed. All must obey the super conservative particular form of Isalm they teach, or one must die.

This is a modern day crusade. Just like when Christians went out and did the same, in both cases anyone who speaks of tolerance, of caring for the weak, of making peace are branded as heretics and murdered. Just like when we had crusades, religious wording, religious after-death promises, and talk of the end of the world and return of God’s full reign on Earth fuel people into a frenzy where new levels of violence seem okay now.

It is so easy to conflate one militant religious group with a whole religion. But just as most Christians back in the dark ages didn’t go on Crusades, and most Christians today say the Crusaders killed a lot of innocent people… so too, most Muslims do not support the Islamic State. Most of our refugees are Muslims themselves, seeking freedom from war, from fanatical military extremists, seeking freedom from the Islamic State.

… More people are displaced and seeking safe harbor from this conflict than were displaced and fleeing Nazi Germany in WWII.

… let that sink in.

There are more people who need safety now than in WWII.

Are we going to be like our grandparents, our grandparents, or ourselves in WWII and ignore those who plea for help? America ignored the plight of those Nazi Germany was destroying and taking over until Pearl Harbor. We even turned away ships of fleeing Jews. And where was there help at all for the gypsy, the homosexual, or any other category sudden chosen to eradicate? Today there are people begging for help, any help, to get themselves, their children, away from another militaristic, fanatical group.

James, the little brother of Jesus, writes to other Christians about pure religion and worthless religion. He isn’t talking about comparing Muslims and Christians, Christians and Jews, Jews and Muslims… James is talking about comparing each person with themselves. In our hearts, in our minds, in our souls, in our actions… are we followers of a pure religion or a religion that is impure?

How to we measure if we are on the right path?

James says we must be quick to listen. Quick to hear the stories of other people. Ready with open ears to hear their perspective. So often when someone begins to say something we don’t like, we formulate, we think of, how to argue against them while they are still talking. This clogs up our ears so we can’t hear what they actually are saying. Instead, says James, just listen. Don’t think of a counter argument. Just listen deeply. For instance, today, when I mentioned refugees and migrants, and ISIS, you may have begun to close your ears. You already have thoughts and opinions on these issues. No need to hear more. James says listen anyways, for you may hear something new.

Then, after listening, think. It’s okay to take time to think, or formulate what you want to say. We don’t have to fill every silence with noise. Sometimes, in the pauses, in the silence, there is a moment for God’s soft voice to speak. In the pause, we can think about what we know of the topic at hand — what we already know about ISIS from the news — and compare it with what the person we’re listening to has just said. Do they match? Is there new information? In the pause, we can consider what we feel. What emotions does this topic bring up in me? What emotions does it bring up in the speaker? Are these emotions because of the topic, the speaker, or something else?

Today, talking about ISIS likely made some angry. Some uncomfortable. Others bored. Others scared. Others felt helpless, or overwhelmed, or confused. I think we each felt many different emotions. James advises we let anger be our slowest emotion. The one we hold back so we can consider all the others first.

“Your anger does not make God right.” James writes. In other words, you are not the one to judge. God knows right from wrong, God does as God will, without you putting your two cents into it. God doesn’t depend on us getting our noses out of joint for God to know about a situation.

So we can take a moment to think. To ponder. To try to understand. And we can take a risk in trying to understand someone who we think is not ‘right’ with God… because we don’t get to judge that. God does. We can set our fear and anger, judgments, aside, and be present now to the person before us.

… We don’t have to decide how God feels about Muslims.

No… says James… don’t worry about the judgment of others. Instead, focus on judging yourself. Go to a mirror and look at yourself. Study who you are.

How do I feel about Muslims?

How do I feel about people fleeing war?

Why do I feel angry?

Why do I feel scared?

Humbly look at yourself, says James. Humbly accept the Word of God and how it points out both how deeply we are loved, and how much sin we still carry. Look in the mirror. Look and don’t flinch. Look and don’t admire. Look and honestly see.

Each of us have good points and bad points.

It is not weakness to admit our bad parts.

It is not vanity to admit our good parts.

It is honesty.

When we know ourselves, it is much easier to know others. Especially those who are from different cultures, different countries, and/or different religions. When we know ourselves, we feel secure to interact with those who’s very existence, who’s very viewpoints and world-views, challenge our’s. When we feel secure in who we are — secure in the good things and bad things about ourselves — we are not threatened by those who are different.

So the sight of a woman wearing a head cloth, a hijab, chador, or other head covering doesn’t make us uneasy. Instead, we can respect for her having enough faith to keep to her religion even when it makes her stand out. We ought to respect that! We, too, teach that a faithful person is heavily pressured to blend with culture which often is at odds with being faithful to God. We are secure in who we are, and so not threatened by someone who is different than who we are.

Indeed, we may have more in common with that faithful woman than someone who isn’t wearing a sign of their faith. We both likely read holy scripture, attend worship services, and are concerned about being a good person. I can’t say that about most of the other people I see during the day.

So James, says, keep open ears. Be ready to listen.

Take reflective time. Thinking time.

Be slow to judge. Slow to respond in anger.

So that you are secure in who you are. We know who we are.

And with these, we are ready to take God’s word and get into action. If we did all this work and didn’t do anything, our faith would be worthless says James.


Now, I don’t know about you, but it’s hard to find something that is worthless. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Everything can be re-purposed. I have a friend who’s mother is the queen of re-purposing. For example, she took outdated refrigerator magnets, cut them into squares, put them into old square makeup cases, and now has a purse-sized sewing kit. The magnets hold the needles in place. Each one has a different color of thread for emergency clothes repairs. She’s incredibly good at re-purposing.

Yet James goes as far as to say that our religion is WORTHLESS if we work and work at it, do all these steps of self-reflection, of listening to others, of knowing the word of God… and do nothing.

Worthless… because although we know much, we have lied to our hearts. Worthless because although we looked at ourselves, we forgot who we are the moment we stopped looking. Worthless because all that work led to no action.

“Religion that is pure and undefiled before God,” writes James, “is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.”

Religion that is worth something is religion that cares for people in need. Orphans and widows had no political power, no way to make a honest living, and were outcasts. Refugees have no political power, no way to make a honest living, and are outcasts. People who are weak, who are desperate, who are suffering are people who we, as Christians, as the followers of Christ, are supposed to care for. Supposed to look out for. Supposed to say, “We may be really different, but that’s okay. You need help. Let me help you.”

James ends this passage by saying we are to help without being stained by the world.

You don’t need to become Muslim to help Muslims.

You don’t need to think Islam is great to help Muslims.

You don’t even need to Islam is ‘okay’ to be neighborly, to be Christian, to be friendly and compassionate and loving.

A religion has worth when its message and its deeds match up. As Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote, “What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say.” What we do tells people what our faith says. Our faith says what we do. When all of this matches up, aligns, we are testifying to the great goodness of God. We aren’t sending mixed signals. Aren’t preaching peace and then shooting death glares at strangers. Aren’t preaching welcoming in the outcast and then telling the outcast to go home and leave us be.

Jesus’ words in Mark are on the very same topic.

In this scene, some of those who follow Jesus are eating without washing their hands. Now, all conservative Jews to this day wash their hands before they eat. So the highly educated and the conservatives went to Jesus and said, ‘Hey, you, Mr. I’m So Holy- if you’re so holy, how come your followers aren’t washing their hands, like the faith elders told us to do in the past?’

Jesus answered, “You abandon the commandment of God and hold to human tradition.” You teach human rules as if they were rules from God.

The commandment of God, as we know later, is to love God. The second is like it – to love one’s neighbor.

Neither of these is about washing hands. Washing hands, a very good thing to do, is still a human teaching. Sometimes, out of love, one can’t wash their hands.

Sometimes, out of love, we have to ignore the good teachings around us to do the best teaching – the commandment of God – to love. So… sometimes this means associating, being around, being nice to people different than us. It means being loving to refugees and immigrants, whether they are here legally or not. It means being loving to Muslims and Christians, whether they think like us or not. It means being loving, being neighborly, being kind to all.

Jesus tells the crowd about him — what you touch and are around outside of yourself does not contaminate, does not defile, your inside. Your core, your soul, your heart — that can defile its outside.

To tie this with James, then, Jesus is saying that if your soul is healthy and happy, other people can sense it. They see it in your deeds. You bless people just by being present. But if your inner core is unhealthy, unhappy, evil… then you defile people just by being present. You spread the deeds of theft, murder, breaking trust, being greedy, lying, being sleazy, speaking badly about others, acting stupidly, acting too prideful, and using your sexuality in a way that hurts yourself or others.

So one who has paused to know themselves, to be at peace with themselves, does not have to fear or be angry with those who are different. In their hearts in the commandment of God — to love. Their religion is pure because they know love, and act loving.

But those who don’t pause to know themselves, or don’t learn from that self-reflection, have a lot to fear from and be angry about with people who have different faiths and ways of doing things. They say their religion is love, but they don’t know love, and so they don’t act loving.

I ask today – does your religion have worth? Does it make you stop, think, ponder, reflect, and then take action? Does your religion challenge you to be better?

If Christianity has become easy, then we are deceiving ourselves. Acting loving is hard. Being Christian is hard. Every person has to work at following the examples of Jesus. Our reassurance is that we do not do this work alone. We’re all in it together. The Spirit is there, guiding us. Jesus is here, leading us. God is here, beckoning us.

“Every generous act of giving is from above,” to paraphrase James, Every generous act we receive is a gift from God. Every time we are generous and kind to others, people receive glimpses of God.

May we, in the words commonly attributed to St. Francis of Assisi, “Preach the Gospel at all times, and if necessary, use words.” Amen.

Given to Saint Michael’s United Church of Christ in Baltimore, Ohio, 8-30-2015


Cravings and Temper-Tandrums

James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a

Mark 9:30-37

There are affinities among religions. Places where they touch each other and share truths. Today’s reading from James is a place where we share an affinity, a similarity, to Buddhism. Both the Buddha and James said cravings, deep hungers, cause suffering and unhappiness.James explains it as such – inside of us are competing desires. Cravings at war. Things we covet – things we want with envy and jealousy. Usually this is money, because money is power. But other things of power we crave – the power over our lives, over our jobs, over our time. The power over others, over creation, over God. James says we humans murder so we can steal; we fight when we’re envious; and we ask for things for selfish reasons. From all of this wanting and wanting and wanting comes hurt.

Our affinity with Buddhist is the man called the Buddha– which means the awake one, the one know knows– also taught wanting and wanting and wanting causes hurt. Understanding cravings and how to end them is the core of the philosophy of Buddhism. You may have heard of the Eightfold Path – if not – it is the eight ways to combat cravings.

Right view, right thought, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right contemplation.

James, throughout his letter, is saying something very similar. He’s writing to early churches who are full of feuds. Full of temper-tantrums. He says look – understand where your conflict is coming from – it’s coming from having wrong cravings.

We can infer from his writing that everyone in this early church was doing good things – helping people out – but the helping was leading to fights inside the congregation. James says these fights are because people are helping each other for arrogant reasons, selfish reasons, because they crave more for themselves.

What’s this look like? Well, I think Jesus’ own disciples give us a great example today. They’ve left their homes and families. They are living hand to mouth, walking on the roads, following a heretical Jew who is gathering more and more followers and haters. They’ve sacrificed a lot. But they still are thinking with impure wisdom, with impure hearts and logic. They covet, they crave, to be Jesus’ right hand man. His number one.

So as the men walk to Capernaum they begin to bicker. Here they are – following Jesus, the Messiah, God’s anointed — here they are, not only witnessing miracles but being part of them. Here they are – personally chosen by God Incarnate for a New Revelation — and here they are, not happy with these honors because Mark might be a bit more chosen, or James might be a bit more loved, or that John a bit more favored by Jesus.

In Capernaum, Jesus sits down and asks them what they were talking about on the road. But no one answers. Silence. Shame. How embarrassing. None of them say a thing, for they all know Jesus heard them and they all know they were not focusing on the things of God.

Jesus had just told them he was going to die, and be resurrected! And they had all stayed silent because they didn’t understand and were afraid. Now they are afraid again and stay silent again.

And so again Jesus tells them a hard, hard lesson — Whoever wants to be first must be the last and servant of all.

As if this wasn’t hard enough, he then takes a little kid – some little girl or boy who can’t properly talk, might still need help going to the bathroom, and is utterly helpless without adults caring for him or her – this little grimy kid who isn’t even considered fully human, fully a person yet, because she or he likely will die before reaching adulthood. Jesus picks the kid up and says, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and who ever welcomes me welcomes not be but the one who sent me.”

In other words, whoever greets a the very low of the low as if they were seeing and welcoming Jesus himself, are actually welcoming not only Jesus but God.

What we do, how we act, how we treat the most personless people is how we greet God.

The people who can’t pay you back; the people who can’t give you honor; the people who can’t give you favors; the people who the world scorns… we are to serve them as if we are serving God.

I saw an example of this once. For this story, I’m going to call the boy Bobby. In a hospital room a boy lay in a bed. He was there for a routine procedure – routine for someone who has severe mental and physical disabilities. He’d been there so often he was now a non-person. I went in to visit with him and greeted him good morning. I talked with him about the cartoons on the TV and told him about my favorite ones. A nurse came and checked his vitals. She looked at me and said, “He can’t respond.”

“I know – it’s fine. Bobby, do you like Thomas or Percy better?”

The nurse asked me in the hall to explain the boy’s medical condition and asked me, “What are you doing? He can’t answer. He can’t think.”

I explained, “That boy is still a boy. Still a person. Still human. So I’m going to treat him human. It’s okay he doesn’t respond. I don’t expect him to. But thank you for letting me know.”

Later I saw the nurse speaking to Bobby the same way I had been. She saw me and said, “I agree. He’s still a person. This is good karma.”

Here in the west, we usually use the word karma to mean tit-for-tat. What goes around comes around. But in Buddhism, it is a religious word that means something a little differently. It means actions, deeds. Good karma is made of good deeds. Things that follow the core teachings of Buddhism: discernment, virtues, and will. In other words, being wise, thinking, reflecting; not lying or using words to hurt others, and having a job that doesn’t hurt others; and focusing on the good, being aware of our bodies and others, and focusing on higher thoughts.

The Buddhist nurse and I shared in our faith traditions that good deeds to those who cannot even respond are deeds we ought to do to be faithful to our faith.

These lessons are quite similar to the ones James gives us. Don’t focus on evil! Focus on God. When you focus on God, you and God become closer. Don’t turn your prayers into ways to hurt others. Use them for good. Don’t be envious of each other. Help one another. What is wise is working with gentleness, compassion, compromise, mercy, impartiality, and truthfulness. What is wise is greeting and treating each person as if they were God…

Because Jesus says how we treat others is how we treat God.

We are made in the image of God. Christians carry the Holy Spirit. We are the body of Christ.

Bobby in his bed. The child in Jesus’ arm. The man on death row. The pregnant teenager. The “welfare mama” and the “bleeding heart liberal” and the Teaparty extremist — we are all the body of Christ.

Since there is no human who lacks the image of God, there should be no one we ever think we can treat as less than the very reflection of God.

The Hindi phrase ‘nameste’ means something very similar. Not only is it hello, but it also means “I greet divinity” or “Not for me, but for you.” In other words, it means recognizing the divine is also in the other person; and saying that you will be a servant. These are rough translations, but namaste is a place of affinity, of similarity, where we can relate with Buddhists.

We both teach that the divine resides in people. And we both teach that we’re to think of the community, the whole, before individuals.

This is radically, radically different than our culture. Our culture lauds, approves, of selfish ambition. We celebrate a self-made man or woman. But James points out that selfish ambition and individual success is made possible by hurting others. To be standing at the top of the heap means standing on top of everyone else.

And Christianity is about giving up being up there at the top – but instead, going down to the bottom and joining everyone there. It’s about coming to the world like a child – unaware the CEO and the janitor are any different. It’s about welcoming God by welcoming all with the peace of Christ.

So, to paraphrase Helen Keller – let us long to accomplish great and noble tasks, but know it is our chief duty to accomplish small tasks as if they were great and noble. It is a small task to treat all as we would treat Christ, but it is a hard task, and a very great and noble one. Amen.

Given to Saint Michael’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, Ohio 9-20-15

Astonished Beyond Measure

James 2:1-17
Mark 7:24-37

“I’ll pray for you.”

Have you ever said that? I have. Have you ever then congratulated yourself; you said the right thing! You have the right intentions! And then you walk away. Mission accomplished.

I’ll pray for you.

There is something a little… insulting… about this phrase. I mean, it’s said with the best of intentions and wishes… but… what would it mean if I said, “I’ll pray with you.”

Suddenly, we’re now partners. Suddenly, I’m no longer doing from a distance but in the middle of the issue. Now I’m with you.

… and what if I added, “Would you like me to pray with you now?” We’re taking some action together now. Working together now. Not putting off to tomorrow… to Tuesday… or most likely never… that good intention to pray together.

So often, far too often, “I’ll pray for you.” is a dismissal.

Sometimes, it even is intended as an insult.

I remember my mother telling a friend she was reading this fantasy book series aloud to my brother and I. The friend patted my mom’s hand, “I’ll pray for you.”

It was an insult – it was telling my mother her friend thought what she was doing was misguided and sinful.

This wasn’t about prayer at all.

How is the excellent name invoked over us blasphemed — how is Jesus— made a fool of? When we use religion in hurtful ways.

James sets up a scenario we see all the time. He says picture a church – and men and women, old and young, boys and girls, rich and poor, black and white, and all people come into it. Now, the town mayor is surrounded with people wanting to shake his hand. “Oh thank you for coming to our little church!” People gossip, “Did you see the newspaper is here? They’re taking photos of the mayor. We’re going to be in the news! Maybe the publicity will make us grow!”

Meanwhile, one of those “undesirables” comes in. This woman hasn’t bathed in days, she stinks big time. She’s missing some teeth, her clothing is all full of holes and doesn’t fit. Would it kill her to wear a bra? Is she drunk? She surely smells of cigarettes and BO. What other negative stereotypes can we throw on her?

Anyways, someone comes up to her and says, “Macy, the mayor’s here today, so we can’t have you scaring him off. Go help yourself to some food in the kitchen and then go home.”

Macy shuffles off and walks between the photographer and the mayor, who is bent down talking to the cutest two little kids. Everyone gets upset because she ruins the picture perfect shot. The adults all start getting angry, the kids think the adults are angry with them and so start crying. Now the shot will never happen.

Macy is told to go! Go away! Go sit over there in the corner, go disappear into the kitchen, go back into the parking lot, go somewhere where we can’t see you. Go home. Go away!

The first church goer says, “I’m so sorry about Macy. Don’t think we’re like her, Mr. Mayor. Do come back!”

The second says, “Ms. Photographer, here, over here, come take a photograph of the Sunday school…”

The mayor says, “Do you have to deal with women like Macy often? I’ll pray for you. Let’s see this Sunday school.”

In James’ story, he says our favoritism makes us become judges with evil thoughts. We honor the rich and shame the poor. He points out — the rich already have honor and the poor already shame, why are we adding to this problem?

It’s not Macy, it’s not the poor, who causes us problems, says James, it’s the rich. The mayor has the power to change the rules that keep Macy from doing better!

Poor people don’t make the country laws, they aren’t the ones who make housing market schemes and regressions set in; they aren’t the CEOs and company owners who bring home millions of dollars tax free while their employees earn minimum wage and pay heavy taxes. It’s not the poor taking jobs over seas, and not the poor who oppress others. It is the rich.

This holiday we have tomorrow, Labor Day, was started by unions, trade organizations, groups of working-class poor pulling together. A day to recognize it’s not the rich who make our country great, but the average worker.

James is arguing that we Christians, those who invoke the name of Jesus, are supposed to be equals. We’re to ignore who has money and who does not. We’re to treat all people equally. Treat them all with love.

Honoring the rich and powerful because we hope they might make us rich and powerful too is idolatry. Is worshipping, wanting, following something other than God. Banishing the poor and powerless because we’re scared they might make us poor and powerless is sin. It is dishonoring, not loving, cursing the children of God.

James says if a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of us says to them, “Go in peace, keep warm, and eat your fill,” … but we don’t give them clothing and food when we clearly see they need clothing and food to be able to be warm, filled, and peaceful — we have dead faith.

When we tell someone “I’ll pray for you,” after hearing about their situation, and don’t actually pray for them, pray with them, or assist in their situation… our faith is dead.

It is dead because it doesn’t do anything.

It is nice words.

But only words.

Words without power are just food for trees – carbon – and we’ve got enough of that already, thank you very much. No more empty words, no more CO, is needed.

Jesus, too, is bantering words in our scripture today. He’s tired of all the words and so seeking a quiet place away from the Jewish crowds who can’t stop talking about him and to him. But even way out here word about Jesus has spread.

A woman immediately hears about Jesus. It doesn’t matter Jesus is in a house resting. She barges in and throws herself at his feet and begs. She makes a total scene for the sake of her daughter.

Why does Jesus call her and her child a dog? This is such a disturbing encounter. Jesus doesn’t seem to act like the Jesus we know. He implies he is only there to help the Jews and no other religion. Indeed, other religions are dirty dogs. And this woman reverses Jesus’ words to argue even dogs get leftovers. Even more strangely, Jesus now implies she has won the argument of words. “For saying that, you may go – the demon has left your daughter.”

This woman never converts, never becomes Jewish. She still worships Baal or Zeus or another god. Jesus never sees the little girl. He heals her with a word from the distance.

Perhaps the woman pointed out Jesus’ hypocrisy and instead of arguing with her, he gracefully agreed. Gracefully lost his argument and granted her the win. Perhaps when someone points out we’re saying one thing but doing another, we don’t have to respond in anger but change our ways gracefully – like Christ.

Or perhaps this is an example of how to relate to others who are not like us within our midst. She says if she is a dog, she is a dog under the children’s table. In the household, in the protection, of the children’s family. She might not be Jewish, but she lives with Jews. And so since she guards them like a good dog, they should also assist her. Since non-Christians make up our community and help us, we should also help non-Christians.

Or perhaps, Jesus was responding sort of what we answer today sometime when we say ‘I’ll pray for you.’ He just was being more direct. Once my mission is done, once I have time, if I get a chance, I’ll help you. In other words, I have an opening on the 12th of Never. Should Never ever come, then 12 days after that I’ll help. Should I remember this week to pray for you, and nothing else comes up, I’ll pray.

And the woman calls Jesus on it.

And he agrees she’s right. And he takes action NOW.


In the next scene, Jesus has moved on and now some people bring Jesus their friend who cannot hear and speaks poorly. After all of these words — words that do nothing, words that cause Jesus to change, to invoke a miracle — this man has only poor words.

Away from the crowds, in a quiet spot, Jesus examines the deaf man and sighs a single word in Jesus’ native language “Ephphatha.” In English, “Be opened.”

Jesus’ one and single word prayer to God opens the man’s ears and lets him speak clearly. Jesus tells the man and his friends not to speak about this, but the more Jesus stresses their silence, the more they talk. They go around telling everyone of Jesus’ miracles. “He makes the mute speak and the deaf hear!” “The lame leap and the blind see!” The words they all wanted to spread about Jesus were about his healing, his miracles, what he could do for their physical needs.

And our physical needs surely need met.

But so do our spiritual. And few were speaking of what Jesus offered spiritually. Few were speaking of the cost of discipleship. Few were speaking of Jesus’ message of God’s love, forgiveness, and reminder of God’s commandments. They were only speaking of what they could get from Jesus — and Jesus wished if they would speak, they would speak of so much more.

Speak of being opened. Being opened spiritually. Being opened to the needs of others. Being opened to the love of God. Being opened to seeing their mistakes and changing their mistakes, as possible, with grace.

Speaking, as Jesus’ brother James would later write, and acting as those who have living faith. Faith that grows, faith that acts, faith that is ever blossoming, faith that looks at each situation and asks ‘what is really going on?’ ‘How can I truly assist?’

Sometimes that assistance is giving – giving money for a bill, giving a ride to the doctor – but more often than not, the assistance that is really needed is silence. Someone to listen. Someone to pray WITH you, not for you. Someone to HEAR you.

May we be astonished beyond measure with our Lord. May be take his example and speak what we truly mean, do what we say we will, and not speak empty words. And may we embrace times of silence. Amen.

Given to Saint Michael’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore Ohio, September 6th 2015