"The Prayer of Faith" - September 27, 2009

Text: James 5:13-20

This past week, students at schools across the country met and prayed at the school flagpole in an annual event called “See You At The Pole.” Brent Walker of the Baptist Joint Committee for Religious Liberty wrote about this on the Washington Post’s blog “On Faith.” He said that such activities were an example of prayer in public schools done right. This is a student-organized, student-led program done outside of school hours and such gatherings should be treated like any other student group. Those who say that prayer has been taken out of schools, even group prayer, are just wrong.

But Walker added words of caution. Teachers and staff can not be involved. Parents might choose to meet together at a church to pray for their students afterwards, but parents should not be part of the prayer at school. He cautioned that those students who pray need to model their faith through their actions. Those who choose not to participate should not be looked down on or aggressively proselytized. The point is not to flaunt one’s faith. Students who organize such events should inform the school of their plans and accept reasonable limits. If the flagpole is next to a busy highway, for example, they might need to move to a different location. And finally, he warned against the trap of civil religion. Praying around the flag, the students need to understand they are praying to God, not Caesar.

It is interesting how often prayer is actually in the news. But you get the feeling that some folks think about prayer and even argue about prayer more than they actually pray.

In our text for today, James raises the issue of prayer. While prayer around the flagpole may or may not be a concern to us, there is no question that prayer at a hospital bed, or prayer when we are struggling with our job or prayer when our children are in trouble, or prayer when we are searching for direction, or prayer when we are burdened with grief surely is important for us.

We have been working our way through the book of James, and we have been instructed and admonished about our personal behavior as Christians. We are to “do the word” - our faith must have works or else it is dead. We are to be impartial, not showing favoritism toward others, as the church James wrote showed favoritism toward the rich. We are to use care with our words because they are capable of both blessing and cursing. We are to stay away from selfish ambition but rather aspire to those things that will bless others. Much of this teaching involves our behaviors and practices as individuals. In our scripture today, James’ attention is not so much on the life of the individual Christian, but on the life of a community of believers--the life of the church.

In the church, he says, the suffering pray, the cheerful rejoice, the sick call for the elders, who on behalf of the church pray for them. In the church, we confess sins to one another, and in the church, we retrieve those who have wandered away. The emphasis is very much on the action of the community of faith.

Because it is such a vital issue, this morning we are going to zero in on what James has to say about prayer. “Are any among you suffering? They should pray. Are any cheerful? They should sing songs of praise. Are any among you sick? They should call for the elders of the church and have them pray over them, anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord.”

One of the things that strikes me here is the corporate nature of prayer. James says to call for the elders--plural--to pray over the sick. They represent the larger body of believers. We do not simply pray for ourselves, but together we are to pray for others.

James also gives instructions to anoint the sick person with oil. This has long been a practice in the Roman Catholic Church, and other churches have begun doing this more recently. I think the instruction to use oil was given for a couple of reasons. First, when James was written, oil was commonly used for its medicinal value. In Mark 6:13, some of the disciples anointed the sick with oil, and many were cured. The Good Samaritan poured oil on the wounds of the man who had been beaten. In a world that had very little in the way of medicine, oil was commonly used for its curative properties.

But I think there is more to it than that. Anointing someone with oil is something physical and tangible, it is a symbol of prayer and a symbol of God’s presence, and that is very important. We do the same thing in different ways.

Touch can be an important part of praying for another person. When I go to visit in the hospital or a nursing home, and it comes time to pray, I reach out to hold the person’s hand, or I might place my hand on their shoulder. There is something powerful about touch. In small groups we may join hands for prayer. Some families join hands around the table as they pray before a meal, and we do this each month after sharing in the Lord’s Supper.

The laying on of hands is an ancient Christian tradition used to confer blessing upon another person. It is a tradition we continue to follow in ordination services or commissioning services or at other significant times.

Anointing with oil as part of a prayer for healing has been a bit less common in our tradition. But the point is that sometimes, we need a tangible symbol in prayer. We have not always used oil, but we have used those tangible symbols.

Regina Griffin is a Catholic nun and a breast cancer survivor. She spoke of what a difficult battle that was. “Almost immediately after the start of chemotherapy, my hair started to fall out. One night in the shower I literally could not get the clumps of falling hair off my hands. Bursting into tears, I telephoned one of our sisters who had survived breast cancer. She understood...I was glad I had heeded advice to purchase a wig immediately. That process provided some needed humor. My head is so big I could not wear the wigs in stock and thus could not match my salt-and-pepper hair. When the special order wig arrived its fullness and length gave me a genuine Dolly Parton hairdo! All I needed was rhinestones.”

But then she said, “Chemotherapy seemed to be an insurmountable hurdle...The panic I felt was the sheer terror of facing the nausea and vomiting that came with chemotherapy...I leaned on my brother Greg who stayed by my side while I was sick as a dog during my treatment sessions, and my friend Ann and my other community members back at the convent. I was too weak to do anything else but sink into the arms of God made tangible through theirs. I understood at a deeper level the witness of community today. How do isolated patients get through this?

I have heard others ask the same question. “Without God, without a Christian family, how could anyone face this?” James speaks of the importance of community, the importance of the church, the importance of prayer in healing. And we have experienced this. We know this to be true.

A number of years ago Hubert Humphrey, while in the hospital for bladder cancer that ultimately claimed his life, reported that it was a “spiritual experience” to receive word that congregations all over the world were praying for him. He said, “I want to tell you, I could feel it, actually feel it. It came to me with a great surge of healing. I could feel it in my body, the warmth, the friendship, the prayers. It was really like a healing balm. I know that sounds irrational. I can’t explain it, but I know something was happening to me and I was gaining strength from it.” Hubert Humphrey articulated what many of us have felt--in time of need, in time of sickness, the prayers of others make a difference, a difference that we can feel, a difference that we really do experience.

But what about those times when healing does not come? Despite the prayers, Hubert Humphrey died, and like it or not, sooner or later, the same thing will happen to every one of us. And so when James speaks of the powerful effects of prayer, what does he mean?

Listen to verses 15-16: “The prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise them up; and anyone who has committed sins will be forgiven. Therefore confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, so that you may be healed. The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective.”

Did you catch what happened there? The subject has changed from physical healing to spiritual healing. The topic has become forgiveness of sins. And somehow healing and forgiveness and salvation are all tied together.

Healing may not always come in this life. I am convinced that there are instances when healing comes in death, as pain is taken away and one comes fully into the presence of God.

And so maybe we need to distinguish between healing and a cure. A cure eliminates the symptoms. The pain is gone, the infection is gone, the broken bone mends. But it is only temporary, because at some point, there will be more pain. There will be more illness. That is simply a part of our human condition.

But healing is much deeper. Healing is not only physical, but mental and spiritual. Salvation and forgiveness and physical healing are tied together, and even in the midst of pain and suffering, God’s presence is there as a healing balm. God is concerned with our physical health, and prayer makes a difference. We are not sure how this happens but many have experienced that. But healing, for the Christian, is holistic--body, mind, and spirit. And while eventually these bodies will give out, our spirits will not. As Paul wrote, “For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.

“The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective,” says James. But what about those times when the prayers of the faithful don’t seem to be powerful and don't seem to be effective?

When we have prayed sincerely and fervently, and don’t seem to get results, maybe we are looking in the wrong place. The first purpose of prayer is not to get what we want. Prayer is not like a Christmas list for Santa Claus.

William R. Inge (in The Rustic Moralist) says,

If we think that we should like to control events by our prayers, let us consider how we should like the idea of our neighbor being able to control them by his. I once had a letter from a good lady who said, 'I am praying for your death. I have been very successful in two other cases.'

Prayer is not telling God what to do, or twisting God’s arm so that God will act in a particular way. Peter Baelz in his book Prayer and Providence said that prayer stems from an attitude of dependence on God, and that essentially, prayer is “the conscious surrender of ourselves to God, come what may.”

The first purpose of prayer is to cultivate our relationship with God. When we pray for healing for ourselves or for others, that healing may come as a cure--the cancer disappears, the illness goes away. But it may come in the form of an ability to trust in a loving God as we accept the limitations of our physical bodies. It may come through the strength to endure suffering. It may come in the sure presence of God in times of heartache and turmoil. And it may come through God’s loving arms, made tangible through the arms of others. Our prayer may be answered through the love and compassion of friends and family, through sisters and brothers in Christ.

What is the church supposed to look like? James’ vision of the church is a place where the cheerful rejoice, where sins are confessed to one another, and where those who wander are brought back. It is a church whose members care for one another, sacrifice for one another, are accountable to each other. And it is a church that prays--that prays regularly and fervently for one another and for the world and that gives tangible expression to those prayers.

When we join together in prayer during our times of gathered worship, we come before God not simply as a collection of individuals but as a community, as a family, lifting up one another, caring for one another, bearing one another’s burdens and sharing one another’s joys.

It is easy to talk about prayer. But the only way to develop a life of prayer is to pray, and so we will move now into a time of prayer together...

"Wisdom and Ambition" - September 20, 2009

Text: Mark 9:30-37, James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a


I serve on the board of Iowa Religious Media Services – it’s an ecumenical lending library that American Baptists and 6 other denominations support together. At our meeting this week, the Preview committee reported on some of the new videos they had watched and purchased. One was the Kyle Petty Bible Study – a video curriculum led by the NASCAR race car driver.

I’ve got to tell you, I am not an auto racing fan. Growing up in Indiana, I was sort of a racing fan one day a year – the day before Memorial Day when they ran the Indianapolis 500 - but that was about it.

But I want to tell you about one of the more memorable auto races in history. In 1979 the Daytona 500 was televised live for the very first time. Going into the final lap, Donnie Allison was in the lead, with Cale Yarbrough close behind. As Yarbrough tried to pass, Allison drifted inside, forcing Yarbrough’s car into the grass. Yarbrough somehow kept control of his car, got back on the track, and caught up with Allison. The two cars tangled on the backstretch, Yarbrough eventually forcing Allison’s car into the wall, with both cars crashing. Richard Petty (the father of Kyle Petty, who did the Bible study), back in third place, cruised past both cars and went on to win, earning a then-record $73,900. (Why they didn't round it up to $75,000, I don't know.)

At that point, the television cameras turned back to the two cars that had wrecked. Viewers saw a heated argument between Yarbrough, Allison, and Allison’s brother Bobby, ending in a fist fight right on the track, on live television – and no doubt spurring the growth of NASCAR into what it is today.

While the front-runners were fighting and arguing on live television, important things were happening. While they were fighting and arguing, Richard Petty won the race.

That same scene is replayed over and over and over again, and not simply in sports. We find a variation, in fact, in our scripture reading from Mark.

Jesus and the disciples were traveling, and Jesus was sharing some important things with them along the way. He was speaking of his own death. But they didn’t understand what he was saying. And it appears that some really weren’t listening too closely anyway. Jesus could hear heated words among the disciples but didn’t know what it was all about. And you know, if Jesus couldn’t hear them, chances are they couldn’t hear Jesus.

When they reached Capernaum, Jesus asked what they were arguing about along the way. The scripture says, “They were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest.”

They had missed Jesus words. They couldn’t hear him, and even if they did, they didn’t understand him, and they didn’t seem to try that hard to understand. Jesus’ teaching took a back seat to their concerns over greatness. Which begs the question for us: What do we miss concerning God’s kingdom because we are arguing about something else?

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that we live in an argumentative age that is easily distracted by disputes and name-calling while really important matters get left behind.

A congressman heckles the president in a display that was worse only in degree from behavior that has been going on for some time by our elected representatives of both parties. And the next day, people were not talking about the actual substantive issue of health care, they were talking about, even arguing about, how uncivil things have gotten.

The basketball Hall of Fame inducted new members a week or so ago. Among them was Jerry Sloan, coach of the Utah Jazz. Sloan went to my mother’s high school in Illinois – he was a few years behind her in school - and he went to college at the University of Evansville about 15 years before I went to school there. He talked about growing up in a one room school where the only teacher was also the basketball coach, and boys and girls played together on the same team because it was such a small school. He said that he was secretly glad when he got to high school and girls no longer played with the boys because his best friend’s sister was a better ballplayer than either one of them.

After finishing his playing career with the Bulls, he accepted the head coaching job at Evansville but then thought better of it and resigned after 5 days. That fall, a plane crashed and killed the entire Evansville basketball team and staff, and that tragic event was a reminder that he has carried to this day that there are a lot of things in life more important than basketball. His speech was full of humility and thank yous to so many who had blessed him along the way.

And then Michael Jordan, probably the greatest player of all time, gave his speech. But Jordan used his speech as an opportunity to ridicule anyone who he had perceived as offending or slighting him in any way – former teammates, other NBA players, owners, high school coaches, college coaches, on and on. He had climbed to the top but still felt the need to put others down,

And what could have been a great evening turned into an awkward moment.

This argumentative, me-first mindset is everywhere. I could mention Serena Williams at the U.S. Open or Kanye West at the Video Music awards. And it’s not just celebrities.

A 16-year-old Connecticut high school student fell asleep in class, and his teacher smacked her palm on his desk to wake him up. Guess what? His parents are suing Danbury High. You hear about these kinds of cases almost every day. How much time and energy and expense go into such things ach other that could go into more productive endeavors?

Like those disciples, we can argue and bicker while missing out on what is truly important. Turn on the TV and you can find TV preachers endlessly debate end-time scenarios while paying scant attention to Jesus’ admonition to love God and neighbor and minister to people in need.

Or closer to home, how many families spend time arguing over matters of relatively little consequence while weightier matters go unconsidered?

We need to be clear here; disagreement is not a bad thing. Quite often, it is a very good thing. It is important to have honest discussion, to air differences. But when Jesus got agitated, it was over a real issue. It was almost always about the hard-heartedness of others, about the lack of regard for the needs of people. The disciples, however, are entirely self-serving. They are arguing over who is number one.

What is going on in the story from Mark is an illustration of what James is talking about. James contrasts “wisdom from above,” God’s wisdom, with what he calls “earthly wisdom.” Rather than bitter envy and selfish ambition, he says that God’s wisdom is pure, peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality or hypocrisy. You can hear references to what we have already read in James as he makes mention of the need for works of mercy and the problems of both showing favoritism and the way we speak to one another. For James, wisdom has to do with action. Forrest Gump’s mama said, “Stupid is as stupid does.” I can’t argue with that, and James gives the corollary: wise is as wise does.

I don’t think human nature has changed all that much since the time that Jesus and James lived. In that day, life was all about hierarchies. There were national hierarchies: the Romans, and the conquered nations. Greeks looked down on everyone else, much as people from highly cultured folks might be tempted to look down on others. There were religious hierarchies, numerous groups with varying social and religious standing. There were economic hierarchies: rich and poor, those who owned land and those who didn’t. There were all kinds of hierarchies, and the disciples were simply trying to establish their own hierarchy. Who was the greatest among them?

All of this sounds somehow familiar. We love to argue about who is better, whether it is sports or politics or religion or American Idol. And we all look out for ourselves. We are concerned about “what’s in it for me.” Greed is rampant.

I heard this week that Whirlpool Corporation is shutting down its plant in my hometown of Evansville, Indiana and moving 1100 jobs to Mexico. My dad worked there his entire career, and at one time Whirlpool employed 10,000 employees in Evansville. I know that there are kids whose families depend on those jobs just as my family did when I was growing up. I really don’t know enough to make a judgment on this decision, but there is no doubt that greed has led to many folks losing their livelihoods while those at the top get bonuses. Selfish ambition has a lot to do with our current economic woes.

Jesus had an inkling as to what the disciples had been discussing. He said, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” And then Jesus took a child in his arms and said, “Whoever welcomes a child in my name welcomes me.”

When I was talking about hierarchies in the ancient world, I left one out: the hierarchy in families. Today, family life is often centered on children: taking kids to ballgames and dance lessons and school activities. But this kind of pattern has only emerged fairly recently. It was not so in Jesus’ day. Mortality rates were such that many children did not survive, and there was not the emotional attachment toward children that we have today. Children were really to be neither seen nor heard, especially in a gathering of men. The value of children came only when they were old enough to contribute something to the family.

Jesus’ point cannot be missed. The disciples argued over who was the greatest, but Jesus redefined greatness for them. This is not a romantic statement about how wonderful children are. Rather, it is a statement about how we ought to treat those of low status. True greatness is seen in caring for those in greatest need.

A pastor in the Dallas area says that he once served a small church that was growing. He made the comment that it was great to see 60 or 70 people each Sunday (which was more than the 35 they had averaged for some time).

The woman to whom he was speaking said that she had been counting, and she never came up with more than 45 or 50. The pastor was sure it was more like 60-70. So they decided to count the people there in church at that moment. The pastor started with a family of 6 sitting on the front pew. But before he got to the next pew, the woman stopped him and said, “You can’t count the children!” She continued, “You can’t count them because they don’t give money.” This pastor stood with his jaw to the floor as the woman walked away.

He said that he watched over the next year as the number of children grew smaller. The woman made a comment that now they were agreeing on the numbers. The pastor said that all the children had gone someplace where they count.

The disciples, with their egos and arrogance and concern for who was best and who was right and who was number one, were not open and receptive to what Jesus had to offer. But the same spirit that would welcome a child would welcome Jesus. And that, says James, is true wisdom.

Jesus and James both talk a lot about ambition today, but they are not arguing against ambition. We all need ambition, we all need goals. The problem, says James, is selfish ambition. Ambition that is all about you. Hopes and dreams and aspirations that center around increasing your own power and wealth and influence and outdoing others in the process. This kind of ambition will consume you. But neither James nor Jesus was opposed to ambition that seeks growth and justice and wellness and happiness for all of God’s children.

The CEO of a large corporation came from very little. He grew up over the small store that his father managed, and now he is in charge of a company that employs 60,000 people. “What do you want for your life?” he was asked. He responded, “I want the people who work for our company to be able to live good, whole, and happy lives.” There’s ambition for you.

In 1968, Martin Luther King Jr. gave a sermon titled The Drum Major Instinct.” In it, he spoke of how he would want to be remembered:

Every now and then I think about my own death and I think about my own funeral… And every now and then I ask myself, “What is it that I would want said?”

… If any of you are around when I have to meet my day, I don’t want a long funeral. And if you get somebody to deliver the eulogy, tell them not to talk too long… Tell them not to mention that I have a Nobel Peace Prize… Tell them not to mention where I went to school.

… I’d like somebody to mention that day that Martin Luther King, Jr., tried to give his life serving others. I’d like for somebody to say that day that Martin Luther King, Jr., tried to love somebody. I want you to say that day that I tried to be right on the war question. I want you to be able to say that day that I did try to feed the hungry. And I want you to be able to say that day that I did try in my life to clothe those who were naked. I want you to say on that day that I did try in my life to visit those who were in prison. I want you to say that I tried to love and serve humanity.

Yes, if you want to say that I was a drum major, say that I was a drum major for justice. Say that I was a drum major for peace. I was a drum major for righteousness. And all of the other shallow things will not matter.

I won’t have any money to leave behind. I won’t have the fine and luxurious things of life to leave behind. But I just want to leave a committed life behind. And that’s all I want to say.

There’s ambition for you: aspiring to a committed life that serves others. That’s ambition, and that is “wisdom from above.” Amen.

"Words That Hurt, Words That Heal" - September 13, 2009

Text: James 3:1-12


There is a lot of folk wisdom out there that says that what we say is not especially important. “Talk is cheap.” “Actions speak louder than words.” “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me.” We’ll say, “Oh, don’t pay any attention to him – he’s just talking.” Just talking, as if what we say is no big deal.

Except that it is a big deal. I don’t know why we have this tradition of diminishing the importance of words, because we all know how important words are. We know that words can and do hurt.

Today we are we are looking at James for the third week, the third of five sermons from the letter of James. James has not been the most highly respected or appreciated book in the Bible. Martin Luther has little use for it, and to be honest, it is kind of understandable. Jesus is only mentioned twice in the book. It doesn’t say anything about salvation or the cross or resurrection. Luther felt that the gospel was absent from James and called it an “epistle of straw” compared to a meaty book like Romans.

Well, if you only had one book of the Bible to read, you might not choose James. But James is not directed to those outside the church. Explaining the life of Jesus to those who have never heard is not his purpose. Solving theological controversies is not what he is concerned about. As a leader in the early church, James is concerned with behavior and ethics. This is a very practical book of what it means to live as a Christian, what it means to live together in community as followers of Jesus.

Two weeks ago, when we were out on the front lawn for our worship service, we read the basic theme of James: “Be doers of the words and not hearers only.” The way we live out our faith is of vital importance. He said that pure religion was to take care of orphans and widows, caring for the most vulnerable among us.

James spoke of the “law of liberty” and of the “royal law” – to love one’s neighbor as oneself. And then he goes on to spell out what that looks like in everyday life.

Last week, in chapter two, James warns against favoritism. The rich were being shown preferential treatment, being welcomed into the church more than the poor. Love of neighbor means all of our neighbors. All people have worth and value, and distinctions of wealth or class or race or any other such distinctions have no place in the church.

Today we are in chapter 3, and James addresses another issue, another place where love of neighbor is shown in a very real, practical way: in our speech. There is nothing more everyday, nothing more practical, than the way we talk to one another.

First, James reminds us of the importance of our speech and the power of the tongue. The way we use language is a great responsibility. “Not many of you should become teachers,” he says, “for those of you who teach will be judged with greater strictness.”

Well, that’s a fine scripture verse for the day we kick off our fall schedule and begin Church School classes. We are trying to recruit teachers, not turn them away. We need folks to teach our children and youth, we are looking for people to work with college students, we need folks to lead adults in Bible study. “Not many should teach?” Especially on this day, it is kind of disconcerting to hear this reading from James.

James is warning his listeners that it is difficult to guard the tongue. But why begin by addressing teachers? Is self-control with respect to words harder for teachers than others? Perhaps it is simply that teachers, like preachers, make their living with words, and so the likelihood of error is greater. With access to so much rope, it is only a matter of time before we professional speakers hang ourselves.

Letters are always written to specific people in specific situations. James is writing to a church, and it’s not hard to read between the lines and imagine that there were those self-appointed teachers in the church who sought the office out of ambition and were perhaps teaching false doctrines. Or perhaps they were using their influence as teachers to spread falsehoods or encourage dissension. They were certainly not taking seriously the responsibility they had for using their speech wisely.

But lest we feel that we are off the hook, we are all teachers in one way or another. We teach our children, we teach one another, older kids teach younger kids. Whether in a formal role of not, we are all teachers. James makes this statement because there were apparently problems with teachers in this church, but he writes this as a way of introducing the problem of sins of speech, which affects not only “official” teachers but all of us.

The tongue is powerful, he says. Like a bit in the mouth of a horse or a rudder on a great ship, the tongue steers the whole body. Just as the whole direction of the ship depends on the rudder, a great deal is riding on what comes out of our mouths. The way we choose to speak is of great importance. We have a modern expression that uses the same kind of analogy: “loose lips sink ships.”

Wildfires have swept out of control in California in recent weeks. We were in Pasadena for the American Baptist Biennial meeting in June. We had some free time one afternoon and decided to drive up into the mountains in the Angeles National Forest, north of Pasadena. We went to Trader Joes’s, a wonderful grocery, and got picnic supplies and then headed up into the mountains. We stopped at a little national forest picnic area and had a nice lunch. It was a beautiful area, and it was amazing to be in this kind of dry and desolate, wilderness landscape just minutes from a metropolis of 13 million people. When I heard a couple of weeks ago that a wildfire was raging in the Angeles National Forest, I could picture it. It wasn’t hard to imagine the forest burning. Investigators have said that it was arson, a deliberately set fire, but the area was dry enough that it could have just as easily happened by accident, by a careless hiker or camper.

It is like that with our words. We can harm others intentionally with our words, but it is just as easy to do so unintentionally with careless, unthinking speech. And when you think of a wildfire in relation to speech, you may think of gossip. How many lives have been hurt, how many souls have been wounded, because of gossip?

The tongue has great potential both for harm. But it also has great potential for good. Words are like nitroglycerin--they can heal hearts or they can blow up bridges. It’s all in how we use them.

Frederick Buechner said, “Words spoken in deep love or deep hate set things in motion in the human heart which can never be reversed.” Like toothpaste out of the tube, we can’t take the words back. And once words are out of our mouths, we are no longer in control.

Today it’s not just what comes out of our mouths. It’s what we type onto the computer. Once we send an email or put something on Facebook, it is out there, and we can’t control where it is going to go. The words will work as they will.

Words can hurt, and they can heal. They can bless, and they can curse. I remember my eight grade teacher, Mrs. Byers. We were signing up for courses for the next school year--we would be freshman in high school, so this was a big deal - and so we were having this conversation about careers and vocation and the future. I don’t remember anything else Mrs. Byers ever said, but I remember what she said to me that day. She said, “You’ve got all kinds of talent and ability and you can do anything you want to do in life.” That felt good. Those words made a difference. That was close to 35 years ago, and I still remember what Mrs. Byers said. Our words do have great power and potential.

We also know how powerful words that harm can be. “You’re no good, you don’t belong, you don’t measure up” – those kind of messages stay with us. Taunts and put-downs and demeaning speech are not easily forgotten.

All of us have said things we wished we had not said. Sometimes, as soon as they are out of our mouths, we regret what we have said. And for some of us, it happens regularly. Think back - it may not be very hard - and you can probably think of a time when you said to yourself, “If I could only take back those words.”

On the other hand, you may also be able to think of a situation where you wish you could go back and say just a few words that needed to be said, words that needed to be heard, words that would have made a great difference.

The same is true when we are on the receiving end. Just a few words spoken to us in anger or carelessness can change things dramatically. We have probably heard words - mean, careless, hurtful words - that we wished we had never heard. And then perhaps there are words that you longed to hear, words that would have made a world of difference, that were never said.

Words are powerful. Words have great potential. In chapter two, James quotes what he calls the royal law, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” In some ways, this letter is a commentary and discourse on that verse. And it is interesting that among the key issues relating to love of neighbor that James chooses to write about, he focuses on the way we speak.

It is not simply that the tongue has great capacity both to heal and to harm. We all know this to be true. A related problem that seemed to be a real issue for James hearers is that if our words are used both to heal and to harm, both for good and for evil, we lack integrity. If we don’t speak honestly all the time, no one will be able to tell when we are speaking honestly. If we speak many hurtful words, then the healing words will not be heard.

“From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so. Does a spring pour forth from the same opening both fresh and brackish water? Can a fig tree, my brothers and sisters, yield olives, or a grapevine figs? No more can salt water yield fresh.”

Do our words mean anything? Do our words have integrity? Or have we used words in such a way that what we say no longer carries any weight?

James is intended as practical guidance for Christians, so I want to be very practical this morning. I would like for us to go out from here committing ourselves in a very concrete way to using words positively: to praise, to thank, to bless, to encourage. Think of one person whom you can bless with your words this week, and I invite you now to committing yourself to doing that.

The words of the Psalmist that we read this morning are a prayer not only for the words we speak in worship, they are a prayer for all of the words that we speak: “Let the words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O LORD, our rock and our redeemer.” Amen.

"Playing Favorites" - September 6, 2009

Text: James 2:1-17

If you had to place yourself somewhere on the socioeconomic continuum, where would it be? How would you describe yourself? Some of you might say that you are a poor, struggling student, but the fact that you are able to attend a university says that you are really not among the poorest members of society. Even if you don’t have a lot of cash right now, the anticipation of future earnings and the quality of your education mean that you are far from being on the lowest rungs of the ladder.

If economic status is a bell-shaped curve, most of us are somewhere in the broad middle. Some are doing better than others, but most of us are not really poor and we’re not really rich either.

The book of James seems to be addressed to people like us, those in the middle, because he writes both of the way the recipients treat the poor on the one hand, and the way that they treat the rich on the other - as if they themselves are not “the poor” or “the rich.” They are apparently “the middle.”

These things are relative, of course. Most people were poor in ancient Palestine. There were the rich and then there were masses of poor people. And then there were the desperately poor, those barely surviving. It was far different world from ours, but there were still those on top, those on the bottom, and those in the middle. James is addressing those in the middle. Basically, James is talking to people like us.

And while the world has changed dramatically in the intervening 2000 years, we know exactly what James is talking about. We’ve seen it. We’ve experienced it.

In the Church, we are all equal before God. We believe that, we really do. Except that you can only carry this equality business so far. In George Orwell’s Animal Farm, the animals revolted against the humans and took over the farm. “All Animals Are Equal,” was their cry. But then the pigs started exerting control, and the slogan was subtly changed to “All Animals Are Equal – And Some Are More Equal Than Others.”

God values all people. But we tend to value some more than others.

Years ago, while in seminary, I interviewed for a youth minister position. One of the questions they asked was, “Do you treat everybody equally in the youth group?” Questions like this do not come out of the blue – they asked this question for a reason. There had obviously been an issue in this church. But instead of simply saying “Yes,” I stupidly talked about the issue. I said that all of us like some people more than others. Because of personality or because we just hit it off better with some people or we know them better or whatever, there are people we prefer being with and then there are others we’d rather avoid. But I told them that as a minister, I tried very hard to treat everyone equally and that often, those who might come across as less likable did so because they had something going on in their life and I tried to be sensitive to that. And I said that it was important that everyone was included and I would expect that of the youth and I would model that. Well, like I said, I stupidly talked about it, and I could tell right away that it would have been far better to just say, “Yes, I treat everyone alike.”

But we don’t. We can’t. We can’t treat everyone exactly alike, because everyone is not exactly alike.

We can’t help but have favorites. We have favorite foods, favorite teams, favorite vacation spots, favorite music, and we have our favorite people.

We couldn’t not have favorites, even if we tried. But favoritism is something else. Favoritism is bestowing favor on others that they do not merit, showing partiality in a way that is unfair. If the boss comes down hard on one employee for minor transgressions, but another shows up late half the time, doesn’t do her share of the work, plays computer games for hours on the clock, and then gets the big promotion, that is favoritism. I played on a baseball team once where the coach’s son batted cleanup. It was borderline whether this kid should have even been starting. He wasn’t a very good hitter and really wasn’t that much of an athlete, and we all thought that he batted fourth because he was the coach’s son. Now, we would expect his son to be his favorite. But there was a problem in showing favoritism, in showing him partiality. It was a problem because he was the coach of the whole team, not just his son, and this wasn’t fair to the other kids.

Favoritism was in the news this weekend. People whose homes burned in the fires in California accused officials of favoritism, saying that firefighters had been pulled from their area to go battle fires in a wealthier neighborhood. Like our scripture, there is an accusation of favoring the rich at the expense of the poor.

We have all seen examples of favoritism, and it can be ugly. But trying to avoid favoritism has its own difficulties. I have judged a few debate meets in which Zoe is a participant. I think I probably judge her a little harder just because I want to avoid the appearance of favoritism. I bend over backwards not to be like that baseball coach.

We probably all have stories of favoritism we could share. And we can agree that favoritism has no place in the church – the church of Jesus Christ is to be a place where we are all people of worth and value, where we are all brothers and sisters, and where everyone should be treated justly and fairly and everyone should be included.

Well, that’s not what was happening in James. Favoritism was being shown. The folks James was writing, those who were mostly in the middle, showed favoritism toward wealthy members.

We’re not told why that was so, but it’s not hard to guess. Which would sound better – to mention to your friends that a prominent and wealthy member of the community just joined your church, or that a homeless person just joined your church? And folks might give extra attention to a rich person in an attempt to improve their social status – as the saying goes, we are known by the company we keep.

Maybe they are just schmoozing. Maybe they are trying to work a business deal. Or maybe, they recognize that to meet the needs of the larger community they have to have some benefactors. They need people with the financial wherewithal to get it done. Wealthy people could be a great asset to the church, and so they shower them with attention.

Is there anything wrong with being friendly and welcoming and attentive to a rich person who comes to church? No, nothing at all. We need to welcome wealthy people. That’s not what is bothering James. What bothers him is that the poor are being ignored. What bothers him is that the same welcome is not being shown to the poor.

The world in which James lived was one in which the rich often abused the poor. They would drag them into court when they could not pay debts and took their ancestral lands away. And once you lost your land, it was one big downward spiral. For the most part, the rich had become rich at the expense of the poor. So why do you show the rich such partiality? James asks. Trace Haythorn asked, “What is it about human beings that we get seduced by the gold and jewels of others, even when those others have often acquired such riches at our expense?”

In showing favoritism to the rich, says James, you have dishonored the poor. And God has a special concern for the poor. “Has God not chosen the poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom?” James asks.

Well, this scene is played out over and over again. There are no doubt congregations today that are attending to the wealthy members among them, making sure that folks are feeling okay about how things are going at the church, making sure that they will keep pledging. There are no doubt churches that give extra weight to the opinions of wealthy members as they make decisions.

And in difficult economic times, there are churches that are looking carefully at budgets and trying to figure out where to cut costs. Some will choose to cut mission support – including funds that help the poor.

These issues and choices have always been with us. James’ challenge to his early community clearly communicates God’s concern for the poor, but he does not simply condemn the rich. The rich certainly had their problems, both then and now. But neither the rich nor the poor is James’ main concern here. His real concern was favoritism. James challenges those who associate with the rich and favor the rich at the expense of the poor.

The epistles of the New Testament were not personal letters; they were read – in worship – to congregations, to gatherings of Christians. Can you imagine what it was like that Sunday morning? Can you imagine that gathering? You can almost feel the tension in the room as folks heard these words. People may have been looking around the room, surreptitiously glancing at one another. Those who were rich were aware of those who had been giving them excessive attention. Both the poor and the rich were embarrassed by it all, I would guess, while some of the schmoozers may have wanted to just crawl under a pew. This was one of those worship services where a lot of folks probably wished they had just stayed home. It was kind of like that Southwest Airlines commercial – “Need to get away?”

The problem the folks James wrote were having was showing favoritism to the rich at the expense of the poor. In this church, a healthy bank account was the admission price if you wanted to really be welcomed.

In this case it was wealth, but favoritism can just as easily be about something else. But if the church is a family, as we claim to be, this should not happen. In a healthy family, there is no thought of who is the favorite.

This morning we gather at our family table to share a meal together – to share the meal of the kingdom. And at this table, there is no favoritism. There is no partiality. All are welcome.

United Christian Campus Ministry was an ecumenical group our church supported that closed its ministry several years ago. At one time, they were handing out bumper stickers – I have one here – that said “God Has No Favorites.” A lot of people seem to think that God has favorites, and the funny thing is, the ones who think that always think they are one of the favorites. The bumper sticker was a way of countering that and saying that we are all God’s children.

Another of way of saying that, I think, is to say that we are all God’s favorites. Not favorite in an exclusive way, not to say that God loves me and not you, but we are all God’s favorites in that we are all special to God. God loves us all and cares for us all and says to every one of us, “You are my beloved child.”

James warns us against favoritism. But his call us not simply to critique the rich and empathize with the poor. We are called to stand in the space between what is and what should be, the place between rich and poor, the place between the privileged few and the masses. We are reminded in today’s scripture, “faith without works is dead.” It’s not enough to refrain from favoritism, we have to work to bring people together.

Sandor Teszler left Hungary for the United States after escaping from a concentration camp with his family in the early part of World War II. Trained as a textile worker, he made his way to Spartanburg, South Carolina and in time became owner of a factory. In the 1950’s, after Brown vs. Board of Education, Mr. Teszler became anxious as he saw the reemergence of the Ku Klux Klan and as he heard racist rhetoric intensify. He recognized it from his days in Europe, and he could not simply ignore it for the sake of business.

He went to his foreman and asked where the racial tensions were most hostile in the area. The foreman replied that he wasn’t sure, but it couldn’t get much worse than around King’s Mountain. Mr. Teszler announced that day that he would be building a new factory in King’s Mountain.

When word got out, the white mayor of King’s Mountain came to see Mr. Teszler, asking if he planned to hire white workers. Mr. Teszler told him to recruit the best workers he could find, and if they were good enough, he would hire them. Shortly after that, an African-American pastor came to Mr. Teszler and expressed his hope that Mr. Teszler would be hiring black workers. Again, Mr. Teszler encouraged him to find the best workers he could, and if they were good enough, he would hire them.
In the end, Sandor hired 16 new employees: 8 white and 8 black. In the mill, there was one bathroom, one set of showers, one water fountain. After initial introductions and a tour of the plant were complete, one white worker boldly asked, “Is this gonna be some kind of integrated plant?” Mr. Teszler replied, “You are being paid twice as much as any other textile worker in the area. You can work with us here in the way we work, or you can go somewhere else. Any other questions?” There were none, and all 16 employees stayed.

Several months later, the plant had grown in production such that a new group of employees was hired. And after their tour, the same question was raised by a white worker: “Is this some kind of integrated plant?” And this time, the white foreman replied, “You are being paid twice as much as any other textile worker in the area. You can work with us here in the way we work, or you can go somewhere else. Any other questions?”

Because Sandor Teszler dared to stand in the gap, in the place between what was and what should be, an entire industry was integrated. James calls us not to choose between rich and poor, not to choose between black and white, not to choose between young and old, gay and straight, natives and newcomers, students and townsfolk. These are all false choices, false dichotomies, because what matters most is that we are all children of God. We are family. This morning, as we come to the Lord’s Table as a family, we remember that Jesus welcomes us all. And we remember that Jesus stood in the place between what was and what should be – at the cross. Amen.

(Thanks to Trace Haythorn for Sandor Teszler illustration and inspiration for this sermon.)