Reflection on James 2:1-17

 

Some of the most fun that techies (the guys and girls who run the lights, and sound, and handle scenery) have during a live show is quietly commenting on what they see before and during the performance.  In particular, techies love to comment on audience members, over their confidential headsets, as the audience members try to find their seats. 

There is always the blue haired lady that actually has blue hair. 

There is always the walrus man with the bushy mustache, parted in the middle. 

There is always someone who does not know their left from their right as they search for minutes on end trying to find their seats.  Could we talk to the house manager over our confidential headsets and have them send someone to help?  Absolutely!  Do we?  Not a chance.  It is cheap, comedy gold every night.

Sometimes the quiet banter over the headsets extends to commenting on those on the stage, especially when hosting a performance from people renting the stage; like the high school band.  Once, the local high school band was performing on the stage, and I was in charge of lights.  Next to me was my jovial friend on the sound board.  We had a blast together as we laughed whenever the pointy nosed girl would bob her head to the beat while waiting for her musical entrance.  She looked like a chicken pecking at food.  There was the fourth chair trumpeter who always came in a beat to late…every single time.  And, then there was Penguin Boy. 

Penguin Boy was the awkward kid on the clarinet who wore a tattered black and white tux with shoes that were four sizes too big for his feet.  He stumbled on his way to his place, waddling in his too big shoes, just like a penguin.  He waddled from side to side as he turned to face forward and take his seat, just like a penguin.  It was snicker worthy moment in the middle of a long, boring school program. 

And, I do not know if you have ever heard a penguin with their alternating low honks and then quick sharp squeaks…did I mention that he played the clarinet, badly?  Do not worry, if you have never heard a penguin.  After this kid’s performance of amateur clarinet tones accented by squeaks, you would know exactly what a penguin sounds like. 

For bored techies during a high school performance, Penguin Boy was comedy gold.  If we could have offered a belly laugh, there is no doubt that we would have done so.  But, we were professionals, keeping the enjoyment at the typical quiet, enjoyment only for those on headset tone.  Everyone else would be oblivious to the conversation.

Funny that I mention everyone being oblivious to the conversation; little did we know that someone in the old, unused sound booth way above the audience, days prior was trying to make the speakers in that room work.  They wanted to turn the space into a cry room and wanted parents to still be able to hear.  And, also, little did we know, that they left those speakers on, at full volume, with the window to the auditorium left open.

“Shut up!  Everyone can hear you!” a 14 year old girl whispered violently at us, pulling our headphones off of one of our ears.  “And, just so know,” the girl glared at me, “Penguin Boy’s family doesn’t have any money.  He bought those shoes himself.  They were all he could find last minute.  We love our Penguin Boy.” 

Did you know that cushioned headphones snapping back over your ears can hurt, a lot, especially if done by a really mad 14 year old girl?  The high school band did not book our theatre the next year.

How easy it was to look down on the poor kid with a tattered tux and too big shoes. 

“If a person with gold rings and in fine clothes comes into your assembly, and if a poor person in dirty clothes also comes in, and if you take notice of the one wearing the fine clothes and say, “Have a seat here, please,” while to the one who is poor you say, “Stand there,” or, “Sit at my feet,” have you not made distinctions among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts?” 

James’ words cut deep for guys like me who look down on others, as if they were God’s comedy gold acts, created just for my entertainment consumption.  How easy it is to look down.  How easy it is to forget that the lowly are not created for comedy, or servitude, or objects to be used in political banter, or fillers of shadowed seats.  In fact, the Bible says things are quite the opposite.

“Listen, my beloved brothers and sisters,” James continues.  “Has not God chosen the poor in the world to be rich in faith and to be heirs of the kingdom that he has promised to those who love him?

James echoes the truths of God sung by the Psalmist so many years before, who reminds us that the Lord “gives justice to those who are oppressed, and food to those who hunger.  The Lord sets the captive free.  The Lord opens the eyes of the blind; the Lord lifts up those who are bowed down; the Lord loves the righteous.  The Lord cares  for the stranger; the Lord sustains the orphan and widow, but frustrates the way of the wicked.” 

Who knew that the Lord’s frustration would be carried out by a righteous 14 year old girl against the side of my head?  But, someone had to do it.  Someone had to stop the injustice.  Someone had to stop the unholy mocking of those whom God cares about the most.

Someone needs to point out to us “Christians” of the church that everyone in the room can definitely tell when we enter into immediate conversation with those visitors who present themselves well, and when we spare only a glancing smile at the one with dirty clothes and loud children.  James looks us square in the eye, and wants to know: “Are you friends of the world, or friends of God?” 

Friends of the world notice the fine clothes and the nice rings and think to themselves “how nice it would be to have these people in our faith community.”  Friends of the world hide the unsightly people, fearing that those in the fine clothes and nice rings would take themselves, and their precious money elsewhere.  How we fear what those with money will and will not do.

Instead of looking down on those who try to sway people with their money and influence, and who will readily to sue any one of us when they are offended, friends of the world look down on those who have not “made it” in the world. 

This is a big deal for James.  And, he makes it a big deal because it is a big deal for God.  God cares about the lowly.  God cares about those who struggle in life. 

Notice, that for James it is not just our unmerciful actions toward the lowly that God hates, but also our thoughts.  When we favor the rich over the poor James questions, “have you not made distinctions among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts?” 

Even our thoughts which quietly disregard and criticize, but do not actually do any harm, are considered offenders of God.  After-all, breaking the law of God is breaking the law of God, whether it is for murder, or it is for ignoring Jesus’ rule: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

But, what a gift to the world are the friends of God.  After-all, friends know each other.  Friends know each other’s likes and dislikes.  The friends of God know who God cares about. 

Looking at her children sleeping in the backseat of the car, the mother would have never thought she would be in this place.  All it took was one angry threat of divorce out of her husband’s lips and one punch with his fist, and here she is.  It is day two of living in a car without a shower, or sink, or stocked pantry, or clothes.  She did not even think to grab her purse or shoes before she fled. 

The church sign says it offers a meal every day.  “All are welcome,” it reads.  “Yah right,” she thinks to herself.  It sounds nice, but she knows it is not true.  After-all, she was once a church member too.  She knows what she thought of those down of their luck.  This was not her church, but they are all the same in their judgment; she was certain.  But, the kid’s stomachs are groaning, so she chooses to go in anyway.

As she and the kids enter the church hall, grimy and probably smelly, you cannot tell these things after a couple of days, she is greeted by an elderly man in a fine suit.  “Miss, may I take you and your children to the seat prepared for you?”  He smiles at the kids and gives them each a lollipop from his suit pocket.

“Yes please,” she says, self-conscious about her bare feet on a dining room floor.  She and the kids follow the man through the tables dressed with fine linen cloths and crystal glasses waiting to be filled. 

“We have a fine chicken parmesan with herb crusted potatoes and chicken tenders for the kids if they would prefer.”  As he talks the gentle man unfolds a napkin for her and the children and pours some water into the crystal glasses. 

“My kids might dirty these nice tablecloths,” she stammers apologetically, amazed to be treated so richly. 

“Stained tablecloths are signs of full bellies.  We like to see both.  Your food will be served shortly.”

She was treated with something she had not expected: dignity.  She was treated as if she were an equal, even more than an equal.  She was served with respect.  She was treated as if Jesus Christ himself was present, welcoming and feeding the hungry.  She was treated by these people of God as a “friend of God.” 

In church, not only do we sing, “What a friend we have in Jesus.”  James reminds us that we are friends of Jesus. We are friends of Jesus who love Jesus.  We are friends of Jesus who care about all that Jesus cares about.  James reminds us that we are friends of God whose faith and works are not dead.