Taming the Tongue

Two thoughts as we continue reflecting on the difficulties of "taming the tongue" from last week's sermon on James 3. 

First, it stirkes me that if the tongue is as wild as James claims--if it's so difficult to control that nobody can do it perfectly--then that's a call for all of us to live with a heightened awareness of the need for grace in our lives.  When we understand the difficulty others inherently have in saying the right thing (and even more so in saying the right thing at the right time in the right tone of voice...), then we need to be prepared to offer forgiveness when something is said that hurts us.  The tongue, after all, as James says, is set on fire by the flames of hell themselves...so maybe we can cut the other person some slack. 

I still remember things my parents said when I was growing up that hurt me.  In fact, I've held onto many more of those than the many, many things they said that encouraged me or built me up.  Perhaps it's time I let go of the ones that hurt.

Second, using our tongues in honor and praise and glory to God does not mean that every word out of our mouths has to be bright and perky and upbeat.  The Psalms in particular are filled with words of sorrow and pain and suffering, yet those words too still bring honor to our God.  They just do it in a way that also honors the current circumstances. 

This also sheds a new light on the way we approach the everyday, including our everyday words.  One of the great strengths of the Reformed tradition is that we emphasize that every moment of every day belongs to our God.  This means that even the mundane and common tasks--and even more so the mundane and common words we use--can be done/spoken to God's glory.  So, then--how would one say, "It's time for the bus!" in a way that glorifies God?

Peace,
Pastor Jay

Midadventures of the week:  (1) We returned from the Pastors' Conference/Retreat we were at on Monday and Tuesday and I emptied my pockets only to pull out the key for the room we stayed in while there.  Oops--needed to make an extra trip to the post office this week.  (2) We confused many of the members of the study of Islam small group as they came to our house for the first meeting and were greeted by two children--ages 11 and 8--and they wondered what had happened to Emma and Brianna.  We were simply watching the kids of some friends of ours.  (3) Elizabeth had the hardest time convincing the folks at the hardware store it was okay for her to charge something to the church's account.  Apparently she wasn't on the list of approved persons, so they called the manager, who responded, "Wait--you don't trust the pastor?!" 

Some further thoughts on being "called God's friend"

A couple of verses I read during my quiet time this morning struck me as relating to Sunday's passage (James 2: 14-26) and the idea of being God's friend and what that meant for Abraham.  The first is Psalm 86:11:

Teach me your way, Lord,
that I may rely on your faithfulness;
give me an undivided heart,
that I may fear your name.

I mentioned in my sermon that Greek moral teaching talked about the unity of friends - seeing the world the same way and sharing everything in common.  Abraham certainly relied on God's faithfulness, though I'm a bit afraid of this prayer.  Because of course, relying on God's faithfulness often means being in situations where it feels like there's absolutely nothing to rely on.  Abraham is also, especially according to Kirkegaard, the supreme example of someone with an undivided heart - seeing the world as God saw it, or at least trusting God's vision of the world more than his own.  James too urges us toward having an undivided heart - devoted to God and not yanked around by our own evil desires and insidious doubts.  (This, by the way, is the idea behind having Pinnochio on our study books - the invitation to become real and not pulled and controlled and manipulated by sin but instead able to live for God in freedom.)

The second passage comes from Luke 12:21, right after the parable of the rich fool, who built bigger barns for himself and anticipated spending the rest of his time taking it easy and being merry, only to lose his life and face God. 

"This is how it will be with those who store up things for themselves but are not rich towards God."

One of the commentaries I studied last week mentioned how Abraham 'abandoned his life to God's plans and purposes'  - he was rich towards God . . . I think, I hope, there's something within us that longs to give ourselves to God with abandon - to be like the sinful woman lavishing perfume on Jesus feet, to be rich toward God and not anxious about protecting and providing for ourselves.

On a different note, I've also been remembering a story about Teresa of Avila, a remarkable woman of God and leader of the church who faced many challenges, including the scrutiny of the Inquisition.  She was traveling somewhere in the rain and fell face flat into the mud.  When she got up again, she reportedly exclaimed in frustration, "Lord, if this is how you treat your friends, it is no wonder you have so few of them!"

Teach me your way, O Lord, that I may rely on your faithfulness, even when you let me fall face down in the mud . . .

Pastor Elizabeth

Forbidden Favoritism--more than simply seeing others as children of God

This past week we looked at James 2:1-13, where James, in very strong language, condemns any practice of showing favoritism to those with wealth at the expense of the poor.  Two thoughts have stayed with me.

The first is that wealth is by no means the only criteria by which we show favoritism.  Race, gender, age, occupation, and education-level are just a few others that creep in all too often in this world.  And though James does not directly address these like he does preferential treatment based on wealth, they are also just as much not a part of what it means to live like Christ.  It all goes back to viewing one another with Gospel eyes--no matter what our race, our income, our education level, gender, age, or occupation, we are all broken people in need of a savior...and no matter who we are, God loves each one of us more than we can ever comprehend.  Using this as the basis for how we interact with others means that so many of the social divides in the world around us are simply no longer meaningful and certainly not helpful.

The second thought is that the call not to show favoritism to the poor goes well beyond simply trying to be nice to others and treating them as God would have us treat them.  The reality, more than we might realize, is that the poor have at least as much to offer us in terms of how to live our faith as the rich.  Our tendency, what the world tells us, is that only the rich have anything to offer us so we must cater to their whims and their desires.  James, on the other hand, and Jesus himself, tell us the exact opposite.  It is the poor that God has chosen to be rich in faith.  It is in the poor that we see Jesus himself.  It is in the poor that we catch a glimpse of the kingdom of heaven.  So James says, "Why do you like the rich?  They are the ones oppressing you, not the ones showing you what faith is..."  It is the poor that have something to offer us.

This is what makes the writings of Shane Claiborne and his book Irresistible Revolution so powerful while reading James.  Shane seeks out the last, the least, the lost, and intentionally lives among them--why?  because he has something to offer them?  No--he does it because the poor have something to offer him.  They show him Jesus.  They reveal the Kingdom of heaven.  They express God's love.

One quick example: While I was interning at Crossroads Christian Reformed Church in San Marcos, California, a number of years ago, during every evening service a vanload of residents from a local drug and alcohol rehabilitation center arrived to join in the service.  Initially this made everyone uncomfortable, and the residents dramatically changed the tenor of the service...but it wasn't long before they clearly began shaping the expression of faith that was taking place during those worship times.  They were unavoidable expressions of both how broken each one of us is and also of how dependent we are upon God's love and redemption.  They brought all of us closer to Christ simply by their presence.

Well, thanks for reading sermon #2 on this text...
Pastor Jay

Misadventure of the week:  A recent exchange between Elizabeth and me:
Elizabeth, coming into my office in a rush:  "Help!  My computer is talking to me!"
Jay: "What do you mean, your computer's talking to you?"
Elizabeth:  "It's suddenly telling me everything I've done"
Jay, wondering if this might be an act of the Holy Spirit: "You mean like all your secrets and everything?"
Elizabeth: "No, no, no...not like that..."
Turns out that somehow the Audio Navigator had been turned on so that it spoke all of the actions that were taking place and read whatever was on the screen under the cursor.  We quickly resolved the problem, and are no longer turning to our computer for confessionals.

Faith and Works

One of the challenges of preaching the book of James, or just studying the book of James in general, is trying to make sense of the relationship of faith and works.  James has often been criticized for putting to much emphasis on living out our faith--to the point that it seems like we might earn our salvation or that our relationship with God is dependent upon our own actions.

I've been surprised, though, now that we're looking at James in more detail, just how much faith is built into the book, and how much that faith is a free gift of God.  We encountered it already in chapter 1--God is the giving God.  It's God's nature.  And then later, God has given birth to us in the word of truth.  And God has implanted that word of truth within us. It is clearly God's actions and God's initiative, and that brith we experience seems to be an ongoing process, leading us to maturity and completeness in our faith.

So what's the relationship between faith and works in James?  Between God's initiative and our response?  Perhaps it's something along these lines:  The word of truth is a free gift.  The newness of life is completely God's doing--but it is a gift, a new reality, that places a call on our lives.  That leads us forward toward that maturity and completeness.  A gift that slowly but surely changes who we are.  A gift, strangely enough, that if we don't put it into practice, if we don't utitlize it, if we don't "accept" it or "receive" it (as James describes it in 1:21) won't accomplish its purposes.  We won't become the "firstfruits of all creation" that God intends.  We won't live as examples to the rest of the world of what God's purposes for the world and for us are.

I've been thinking of it like this:  It's like winning a college scholarship randomly at some drawing you entered.  Completely unexpected and undeserved, and you can use it to go to any school you want.  But now you have a choice--do you actually use it?  Do you go to school?  If you do, it will change who you are.  You won't be the same.  It might not be easy, but it will certainly change you.  But the other option is simply to say, "Well, that's nice.  But I don't want to risk it.  I don't want to bother.  I'm really not interested." 

Unless you actually use the scholarship, it won't change who you are.  It won't transform your life.  But if   you put it into practice, you will never be the same.  A bit like faith:  we can hold onto it, or we can put it into practice and have it change us.  Obviously, this illustration has it's limits--for one, college isn't for all of us, and that's okay.  For another, sometimes college changes for the better, sometimes for the worse...but hopefully you get what I'm getting at.  May we all put our faith into practice and allow God to transform who we are.  Otherwise the gift God gives us won't be nearly as glorious as it might be.

Favorite quote of the week:  Elizabeth wore her robe to conduct the wedding of Jose' and Amber Cruz this past week, and when one of the ushers saw her, he was taken aback, and proclaimed, "You're wearing your Jedi for Jesus outfit!"  We then tried the ol' Jedi mind trick "You will come to church..."  We'll see if it works.

Consider it joy . . .

Dear friends,

We've decided to try to continue our pastors' blog now that we're back to the familiar routine at Boston Square.  This does fill us with some trepidation, as we are no longer visiting far away sights and having quite the same adventures, and - well - most of you see us every Sunday anyway- but we enjoyed the discipline of blogging and hope that it will continue to be a good way of communicating some of what we're doing and reflecting on each week.  Maybe we'll even find some fun photos to include in our next posting . . .

We've been thinking a lot about the James passage (1:1-18) Jay preached on Sunday.  We were both humbled on Sunday morning as we looked around the congregation and thought about how many of us at Boston Square have learned much through suffering. 

We've also been reflecting some more on our experience with community on Iona.  We'd been anticipating a peaceful week in a safe haven and instead God gave us a week of trials in living with people we would not have chosen to spend that much time with.  And it ended up being one of the best weeks of our whole sabbatical.

Our liturgy for James draws heavily on the worship experiences we had at Iona.  We used the service of confession in this liturgy every morning there as we began the day with worship, and we sang "We will take what you offer" during the evening communion service.  It stuck with us and struck us as summing up well the life of discipleship we are invited to through the book of James.

We continue to be grateful for our time away and glad to be back home with you all.  It is wonderful to have a community to come home to!

Pastor Elizabeth

Misadventure of the week:  The James Challenge is (to quote Emma) "not going so well' for some of us in our household.  Jay is going strong, Elizabeth may just have to skip ahead to James 1:19-27.  I hope these passages get shorter soon! 

Week 11 - Back to Michigan!

It is a bit hard to wrap our minds around the fact that we began the week in Edinburgh, Scotland and are concluding it in Ferrysberg, MI - modern travel is pretty amazing!

We had a lovely few days in Edinburgh, taking in some of the sights and worshipping at St. Giles Cathedral on Sunday.  Scottish Reformer John Knox was the pastor of St Giles for many years, and after the service we also went and toured the home where he lived the last years of his life.   The house/museum was full of various quotes from or about Knox, including his famous line railing against 'this monstrous regiment of women' and critics' complaints that his preaching was so influential it was like thunder heard for miles around.  Quite the interesting and complicated figure God used to lead the church.  We visited the National Museum of Scotland and got to see the Lewis Chessmen (mysterious Viking chess pieces found in nothern Scotland), various artifacts from the convent on Iona, and special leather satchels that monks designed especially for carrying sacred texts around Scotland and Ireland.  (Being a fan of both books and bags, I was much more impressed with that particular exhibit than Jay and the girls were - they were more into the hands-on build your own small catapult display.)

And then, it was time to fly home.   Once again we were so grateful for all of your prayers for our safety and for cheerful daughters, as the flight home was uneventful and the girls did really well on the 9 hour flight back. We had a short visit with my mom and dad on our way back across the state.  It was so good to be able to see and talk with them in person.  Mom is in good spirits and they (and we) are so grateful for all of your prayers on her behalf!

We're now in Ferrysberg, sorting through mail and trying get day and night straight again, and beginning to process all that we've seen and learned and been reading so far.  A few themes are emerging.  The first has to do with mission - that as believers individually and together we get to look for and participate in what God is already doing in the world - restoring relationships and reconciling people to God in Christ.  The second has to do with context - that each church is unique and that the work of the Spirit in each place is also in many ways in unique.  And the third has to do with the Holy Spirit - a growing awareness of the work of the Spirit in our lives and a growing expectancy about what the Spirit has begun at Boston Square.

We'll be spending next week with Jay's parents and siblings and are looking forward to reconnecting with them.  It will be a bit before we make another post because we won't have internet access. You all continue to be in our thoughts and prayers - especially the Huizingas, Howards, and Sinkes and Vacation Bible School this week.

peace,
Elizabeth

misadventures - so, we figured out why it was a bit hard to find acommodations in Edinburgh for this week - the end of the British Open!  the city was full of avid golf fans - an interesting crowd.  And, after travelling around all sorts of corners of the United Kingdom for eleven weeks, we realized somewhat sheepishly the one grave that we intentionally sought out was that of John Gray, the guy whose dog sat by his grave every day for fourteen years after his death.  Also, after one phone call in the U.S., our Islamic mobile phones have mysteriously reverted to Arabic, making text messages a challenge. 

Week 10 Iona (ahh . . . community)

We've just finished spending a week on the island of Iona as guests of the Iona Community.  And it's a bit hard to know how to begin describing it.  The island itself is small and remote (we took a 3 hour train journey followed by an hour long ferry ride followed by an hour and half bus ride followed by another brief ferry ride to get there) and incredibly peaceful and beautiful.  There are more sheep there than people, by quite a lot.  We woke to sounds of sheep and slept to the sounds of sheep - they can be rather loud!

There's a small village on the island and several bed and breakfasts, and a Benedictine Abbey that was restored throughout the 20th century, mostly through the vision of Rev George Macleod.  His idea was to employ unemployed tradesmen and train ministers at the same time, through the experience of community and the rebuilding of the abbey. Out of that vision the Iona Community evolved.  It's an ecumenical community committed to justice and renewal, with about 300 members worldwide.   Google them to learn more - it's a remarkable story.   The Community has various ministries, including the publication of worship resources, many of which we use, and hosting folks on Iona for a week.

It was a good and challenging week for us - living in intentional community, even for a week, is hard.  I quickly came to the conclusion I would not have made a good monk!  We rose to the sound of a bell, ate all our meals together, had various chores assigned to us, began and closed each day with worship.  In between meals, chores, and worship services there were various workshops to attend or outings to take advantage of - it was a full week.  The girls loved the routine of each day and listening for the bells.  Emma was assistant window cleaner for the week, while Brianna rode around on Jay's back emptying the trash bins each morning.  They sang heartily at the worship services, and Brianna's new word this week was 'aleyuda' (alleluia), which she would shout out periodically.  I was really challenged this week to reconsider how I think about work and vocation, the links between manual labor and prayer, and to be more mindful of God's presence and glory in routine tasks and in the people I encounter each day.

Challenging as life with others can be, the week was tremendously nourishing for us - lots of time outdoors in a beautiful setting, lots of opportunities to talk with folks who love Jesus deeply, and lots of space to sing and pray.  It was a wonderful conclusion to our trip.

One of the days we participated in a pilgrimage walk around parts of the island.  Emma was full of her usual questions, and as I tried to explain to her what a pilgrimage was, it struck me again that pilgrimage has been the rhythm of this whole trip.  "We walk for a while and then we stop and learn and listen and pray, and then we walk some more."   We travel and then stop for a bit and learn and listen and pray and then travel some more.  And it has been rich for us in encounters with new folks and places and in encounters with God.  And now we're glad that the time for travel is almost done and we'll be heading back to Michigan in a few days.

peace,
Elizabeth

misadventures of the week - Jay getting sprayed in the face with toilet bowl cleaner by an overeager young fellow guest during morning chores; Elizabeth realizing too late that a week with the Iona Community was going to be a lot like a week of summer camp - yes, there were bunk beds and we were given animal names and there were crafts - sadly, no capture the flag or archery.