Doers of the Word

Scripture Lessons: Song of Solomon 2: 8-13 and James 1: 17-27 Sermon Title: Doers of the Word Preached on August 29, 2021 Have you ever imagined that you’d do one thing, like really give someone a piece of your mind, only to completely lose your nerve? My wife Sara and I watch TV together most every night, just an episode or two. A few weeks ago, we were watching a show where the main character tells her best friend, who’s recently divorced, exactly what she’s going to do the next time she runs into her friend’s ex-husband. Whe already had the speech prepared. Should it be in the grocery store, or in front of children on the playground, it doesn’t matter, young ears are just going to be exposed to some harsh language, because that man hurt her best friend, left her to take care of all those kids, and he’s going to get it. Well, two or three days later, there he is in the grocery store, only despite this woman’s intentions, she practically winds up inviting him over for dinner. Has it ever been that way with you? You imagine again and again, telling the man off. You rehearse the words. You’ve even practiced your speech in the mirror, but then you see him in the grocery store, and you somehow hear yourself saying, “It’s so good to see you, too. When are we going to get together?” Of course, sometimes it’s good that we keep our mouths shut, but our Second Scripture Lesson calls us to bridle our tongues, not to lose our nerve. For if any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in a mirror; for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like. We’re in the book of James today. We will be until the end of next month, and James pushes us, again and again, to be doers of the word, to put our faith into action. To work at following through on our best intentions. I like that about James, though it is a book not often celebrated by Presbyterians or many protestants. In fact, according to legend, the great 16th Century German reformer, Martin Luther, led his students out to the river with their Bibles, had them turn to the book of James, tear it out, and throw it into the water to be swept away, for he felt its emphasis on doing went against his deep conviction that there is nothing we can do to earn God’s approval. Grace alone saves us, he said again and again, and not our own works. Luther is right about that, of course. It is grace that saves us. We don’t do good to win God’s favor. We can never be so pure as to deserve salvation. God’s love for us is like all love. It is a free gift that we learn to accept and strive to be worthy of, not a title we work for. No, what we work for is approval and approval and love are not the same thing. Approval matters to us, though. You learn how much approval matters when you look into the mirror and know who you are, what you want, what you’re going to say, and where you’re going, but upon walking away from the mirror and out into the world, you forget what you were like because you want to be liked by someone else. Do you know what I’m talking about? Of course, you do. Luther was so led by his convictions to rip out pages of the Bible while we are often like teenagers who know themselves when they look in the mirror but forget themselves in the back seat of a car. This passage is also a good one for their parents, who, like me, put a facemask in their pockets before leaving the house with every intention of putting it on in any social situation, while I find myself scanning the group before taking it out of my pocket. Why? Back to Martin Luther. Martin Luther didn’t like the book of James. That’s true. Still, there’s a lot we can learn from him about putting our faith into action. During a plague someone asked him if it was OK to leave town and run away from the spreading disease to save himself, or if it was better to trust God and risk infection. This is what he said: I shall ask God to mercifully protect us. Then I shall fumigate, help purify the air, administer medicine, and take it… I shall avoid places where my presence is not needed, and so cause death by my negligence… If God should wish to take me, he will surely know where to find me, and I have done what he expected of me. If my neighbor needs me, however, I shall not avoid person or place but will go freely. I’m so impressed with this response for a number of reasons. For one, it shows that there is a way to be faithful and to trust science, and for another, Luther is entirely focused on what he’s going to do and not on what anyone else is doing. He doesn’t leave town to save himself, nor does he cast blame. He’s focused on himself and what he’s going to do, and in this world that’s all we can count on. We can’t count on the government to do it for us. We can’t expect the schools to always get it right. As Luther put his intention in writing he was solely focused on what he was going to do, what he had decided, and, and then he walked away to be that person out in the world. That’s how it’s done. How did he do it? Where’s that kind of confidence come from? One more story about Martin Luther. Every morning he’d wake up and he’d splash water on his face and on his head, and he’d say to himself, remember that you were baptized. Remember that Christ called you by name, you are his, claimed and redeemed, washed in the water, set free, made worthy, called precious in God’s sight. Don’t worry about what they say. Don’t let the world defile you. Listen to what God says, and God says that you’re loved. Make God’s love, which you already have, matter more than the world’s approval, which you’ll never get. Do you know how important that is? Did you know that there’s no way you’ll ever make it if you can’t be who you are in the mirror out in the world? Some people need a little help doing it, and so one of the sayings of Narcotics Anonymous that I just learned from a new friend is: “Just for today I will have faith in someone who believes in me.” Just for today, I’m going to believe that I am worth loving and God already does. Just for today, I’m going to believe that I’m OK without their approval. Just for today, I’m going to take God’s word for it. That I am worthy. I am worth knowing. I am valued. I am beautiful. I am precious. I am capable. I am good, and I don’t need the approval of this world, for I am destined, not for this world, but the New Kingdom that’s coming. That’s what it takes. For if we don’t know that we have a valuable opinion how will we ever get the words out of our mouth. If we don’t know we have something to offer, how will we ever get out to really live. If we don’t know we’re worthy of love, how will we ever ask someone out on a date? Talking about meaning to get words out then losing our nerve, who here has ever meant to ask a girl out on a date only to wind up asking her about the weather? Last Sunday Erroll Eckford and Chris Harrison took the Middle School Youth Group to Mountasia. That’s a place to play putt-put out by Town Center Mall. Back in my day, if you really liked a girl, you invited her there to play putt-putt, and just thinking of that place brings back butterflies to my stomach. Do you remember the first time you asked a girl on a date? Or do you remember wanting a boy to ask you to play putt-putt? Do you remember what falling in love feels like? One of my favorite movies is Love Actually. In that movie is young boy named Sam who falls in love. His dad is relieved when he finds out that Sam has fallen in love, because he thought there was something really wrong with his son, for he’d not left his room in days or weeks. “I’m a little relieved, Sam” dad says, “I thought it would be something worse.” “Worse, than the total agony of being in love?” his son says. Do you know what he’s talking about? It’s painful because there’s risk involved in love. You know how you feel but you don’t know how she does. Your heart could break at any moment, but it also might leap like a gazelle. It’s a risky situation, and anxiety could keep you from saying anything at all. If you don’t know you’re someone special too, you probably won’t say anything. That’s the truth of the matter, and so, we notice in the Song of Solomon, our first Scripture Lesson, that the young man is standing behind the wall, “looking through the lattice.” Why is he hiding there instead of going to the door or stepping out into the open? Because he’s looked himself in the mirror, now he must decide what he’s going to do out in the world. Do you remember what that felt like? Living the Christian faith is not so different. What’s the call? To love your neighbor as yourself, which means doing something, not just wanting to do something. To turn away from your old life, which probably means turning away from some old friends, and requires you risk losing their approval. The whole Christian calling is a terribly risky thing, so find confidence in this: it’s a risk that God has taken first. Throughout the ages, there were many who thought that the Song of Solomon, a book of love poetry, had no place in the Bible. That it should be taken out as Martin Luther ripped out the book of James. It was saved, however, by the understanding that the young man who longs to pledge his love to the young woman is God. And who is the young woman? Who holds the young man’s tender heart in her hands? Who’s “yes” could have him leaping like a gazelle and who’s “no” would break him? She’s you. She’s me. Remember that. And with the confidence of one of God’s beloved, speak your truth, stand your ground, live your life, and remember who you are that you be not just a hearer of the word, but a doer. Amen.