Being Doers of the Word

Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-9; James 1:17-27

Consider this hypothetical story.  A couple takes a long-awaited trip to Europe.  They’ve been planning the trip for years.  It is their retirement gift to themselves.  They will be gone most of the summer.

 While away their young adult children will be in charge of the house and the small business they own.  The mom or dad writes home every week giving their children detailed instructions about maintenance of the house and running the business.

 The trip to Europe was all they dreamed it would be, but it finally comes to an end.  They make the long flight home and are eager to see their home and children.  But they are dismayed when they arrive.  The grass hasn’t been cut all summer.  Garbage cans are overflowing.  Mail is falling out of the mailbox.  Puzzled they drive to their business.  It is in a similar state of disarray.  Bills haven’t been paid.  Customers’ calls haven’t been returned.

They confront their children: “What’s going on here?  You’ve done nothing while we were away.  Didn’t you get the letters we sent you?”

 The kids shrug their shoulders and say, “Sure we got the letters.  We read every word.  Actually, we cherished those letters.  We had discussions about your letters.  We even memorized some of the better parts of them.”

“So, you got the letters.  You read them, discussed them, and even memorized some of them.  But what did you do about them?” The kids sheepishly respond, “Do?  Well, we didn’t do anything.”

 A bit absurd, right?  No one would cherish a letter, discuss and memorize it, but then not do what it says.  Apparently, James, rumored to be the biological brother of Jesus, knew some people who were doing just that.  They received the words of Jesus—the great teachings of the Sermon on the Mount, those homespun parables about farmers and tax collectors and a good Samaritan—but they did not do what Jesus taught.  Scholars think the brief letter of James was originally a sermon.  It has only 108 verses but sixty imperatives.  Here’s one of the imperatives: “Be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves.”

I picture James as an activist.  I can see him marching for justice for some marginalized community, serving meals at a soup kitchen, rehabbing affordable housing, teaching English as a Second Language, welcoming immigrants into the community, and stuffing bags with food for children in a Title 1 school.  James sees faith as a matter of behavior and action, not just a matter of beliefs.  Yes, he has faith, but he insists that faith without works is dead.  James was a doer of the word and not merely a hearer.

You may be aware that the Protestant reformer, Martin Luther, did not like the letter of James.  He called it “a right strawy epistle” and argued that it and two other books don’t even belong in the New Testament.  He claimed James places too much emphasis on works and not enough on faith. 

 Now, as a Protestant, a Baptist, one who cherishes the doctrine of the priesthood of believers, I owe a debt to Martin Luther.  On Reformation Sunday, I will sing Luther’s great hymn “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God” with a lump in my throat.  I want it sung at my funereal one day.

Let goods and kindred go, this mortal life also; The body they may kill: God’s truth abideth still, His kingdom is forever.

However, I think Luther was wrong about James.  He sets up a false dichotomy: faith or works. James actually argues that both are important.  Good works, he would say, naturally issue from genuine faith.  Good works are evidence that a real faith exists.

“Be doers of the word,” James insists in his sermon, “and not merely hearers who deceive themselves.”

 That sounds a lot like his brother, doesn’t it?  I’ve said that if I could have only three chapters of the Bible, they would be Matthew 5, 6, and 7, the Sermon on the Mount.  It begins with the Beatitudes: “Blessed are the poor in spirit.”  “Blessed are those who mourn.”  It contains those six paragraphs where Jesus says, “You have heard that it was said…but I say unto you.”  He tells them not to judge.  To ask, seek, and knock.  To enter by the narrow gate.  When Jesus comes to the end of the sermon, he tells a brief parable.  Reflecting back over what he had just told his disciples, he says, “Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who build his house on rock.”  You remember the little song we learned as children about the wise man and the foolish man.  The rains fell, the floods came, and the winds blew, and the wise man house did not fall because it was built on rock.

The rains also fell on the foolish man’s house, the one who heard Jesus’ words and did not do them.  The floods came, the winds blew, and the foolish man’s house collapsed because it was built on sand rather than rock.

            “Be doers of the word,” Jesus was saying, “and not merely hearers who deceive themselves.”

 So, let’s do a checklist.  Are we doers of the word or merely hears?

  Do you forgive people who wrong you?  Or do you harbor resentment?  Forgiveness is central to the words of Jesus.

Do you listen well to others, and are you slow to anger?  That’s exactly what James says, “let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, (and) slow

to anger.”

  Are you generous with your time and money? 

  Are you merciful?

Are you always ready to help people in need?  Do you look for opportunities to help people?

Are you willing to admit when you are wrong and repent?

Are you a peacemaker, actively engaging people and situations where conflict exists?

Are you patient and kind?

Are you unselfish?

Do you really love others, especially those who are downtrodden?

“Be doers of the word,” James tells us, “and not merely hearers who deceive themselves.”

St. Francis of Assisi is my favorite saint, if it is okay for a Baptist to have a favorite saint.  He and I share a birthday: October 3.  Francis was born into the family of a wealthy cloth merchant.  As a youth, he was supposedly handsome, witty, and loved fine clothes.  Records say he spent money lavishly.  One day he was selling cloth for his father in the city. A beggar approached him and begged for alms.  Francis was so moved that he gave the beggar everything he had.  His friends mocked him, and his father scolded him.

 He was torn between his life of pleasure and the call of God.  He was torn between the demands of his earthly father and the summons of his heavenly Father.  In a very dramatic scene, his father, angered by Francis’ disobedience, called him before the bishop of Assisi.  Before a word was spoken, Francis began taking off his clothes: “without a word (he) peeled off his garments even removing his breeches and restored them to his father.”  Then, standing completely naked before the bishop and his father, he said, “Until now I have called you my father on earth.  But henceforth I can truly say: Our Father, who art in heaven.”

The astonished bishop gave him a cloak.  Francis left his father and renounced all worldly goods and family ties, choosing instead a humble life of poverty and service to others.  These words are attributed to St. Francis of Assisi.  They could be a motto for our lives.

Preach the gospel at all times.  Use words only if necessary.

 Is it possible that we could be deceiving ourselves?  James thought so.  He said we could be like a person who sees her reflection in a mirror.  When she walks away, at once she forgets what she looks like.  Here’s how to avoid self-deception.  We first must be hearers of the word.  We can cherish the word.  We can have discussion groups about the word.  We can memorize the word.  But we must not stop there.  Then we must be doers of the word.  Be doers who act, James says, and you will be blessed in your doing.

Closing Prayer

   Giver of the word, we listen well.  We hear it.  We cherish it.  We have some of it memorized.  May it so shape us that we do it every day.  Amen.