Sermon 18th January 2009
Today, Simon Brindley preaches based on the reading from James 2: 14-26
– “Faith without actions is dead”
I’d like to start, if I may, by taking you back to a scene from my childhood. My father was a parish priest in a coal-mining community on the edge of the town of Blyth in Northumberland about 15 miles north-east of the city of Newcastle on Tyne. (Any sharp-eared football fans would be correct in thinking this is the same Blyth whose amateur team Blyth Spartans, lost 1-0 at home to the Premiership’s Blackburn Rovers two weeks ago in the 3rd round of the FA Cup but, unfortunately perhaps, the footballing aspects of Blyth have got nothing more to do with this sermon….). There had at one time been at least three or four coalmines, or “pits” as they were known, in Blyth and by the time we moved there in 1963 there were still at least two in production.
The route to school was to go out of the back door of the vicarage, across the garden, through a gate in the wooden fence into the back-garden of a house on the neighbouring council estate, call at their back door for the neighbours’ boys and then all walk for half a mile or so through the estate to a primary school right on the edge of the town. It was situated in an area or suburb known as New Delaval, except that the school was pretty much all that was left of that community. In front of the school wall was a dirt road, to the right a couple of hundred yards away was what we called a pit-heap, which is the waste heap from a coal mine. At the back end of the pit heap was the abandoned mine shaft and lifting gear of the old New Delaval Pit which had closed in 1955 and in front of the school, in an area of some acres – it must have been a decent size as it is now a golf course - was pretty much a wasteland, where once had been a whole community of buildings and streets of some sort. We knew that because everywhere you went you could find, half overgrown, the foundations of buildings, where once had been a thriving area full of people. These foundations were flat areas of concrete or brick flooring with just the slightest remnants of brick walls around them and there were enough to indicate a large number of buildings had been there, but now these flat foundations were overgrown with weeds and surrounded by rainwater ponds. I’ve always assumed that this must have been the coal-mining suburb of New Delaval, rows of 19th century miners’ cottages and so on. It’s possible it was a mix of that and buildings for the mine itself, it wasn’t obvious to us as children, but now only the foundations were left, for as far as seven year old eyes could see. Apart from the school and one or two derelict buildings in the distance round the mineshaft itself there was no human element left in this particular area, no life, no laughter, no people, no community.
Pause…
If faith “is alone, and includes no actions”, says the letter of James, written “to all God’s people scattered over the whole world”, “then it is dead.”
Faith and actions, belief and good deeds, a relationship with God and relationships with your neighbour. On one level James’ message seems quite clear. He was a very straight talker. “Don’t just sit there in the seats or pews believing” he might say to us all today, “get off your backsides and do something!”
But there is a lot behind all this and it may be helpful to ask ourselves what is the significance of these two fundamental elements of Christianity, faith and actions, and how do they relate to each other?
First, what is it that makes us right with God? Is it just our faith, that is what we believe, our having put our trust in God as revealed through his Son Jesus Christ, or is it what we do, our good deeds? This is the first question James poses for his readers, when he says “My brothers and sisters, what good is it for people to say that they have faith if their actions do not prove it? Can that faith save them?”
A colleague at work with whom I have a good relationship sometimes, not so good at others, asked me on Friday just gone if I’d like to have a coffee and we popped out of the office for half an hour or so in the late morning. We chatted at first about issues that we have both grappled with at work over the last few years. I don’t actually know what background of faith he has, if any. His name suggests he might come from an Islamic background, but I really don’t know. “I need to ask you something” he said after a few minutes, “it’s not work related.” “Is it true” he asked, “that it doesn’t matter how many good deeds you do, that won’t be enough on its own to make you right with God?”…that wasn’t quite how he put it, but that was the heart of his question and for the next 10 minutes we talked about Jesus Christ. We didn’t have long and we agreed to talk again. He asked for a book on how you reconcile belief in God with suffering in the world.
But the underlying question was there, in a coffee shop on Fleet Street in 2009, just as it was in the first century Middle East. What is it that makes right my relationship with God? Are good deeds not enough on their own? Is faith enough? Don’t you need to be a good person as well?
If you’ll forgive a brief detour into some of the theology I am just beginning to read in connection with my Reader’s training course, these issues have been widely debated by Christian thinkers over the centuries. A debate was raging in the fifth century AD, over 1500 years ago, between thinkers like Pelagius who was a British monk living in Rome, who argued that since God has given us the free will to choose to do what is right or what is wrong and given us the example of Jesus to follow, then we will be judged by whether we do the right things or not, we will be judged by our deeds, by our actions and on the other side of the debate was Augustine, a Bishop from North Africa, what is now Algeria, one of the greatest thinkers of Christian history, who also spent time in Italy and whose rigorous and compelling analysis of the New Testament makes it clear that we cannot fundamentally be put right with God by what we do, rather human nature is inevitably sinful and our good deeds are never going to get us all the way there. So it is only by God’s grace, freely given by the death of his Son that the fundamental problem of sin can actually effectively be dealt with. The good things we do are then a response to the grace of God and the result of God working with our human nature, in all its weaknesses, by his Holy Spirit.
It was Augustine’s view which came out firmly on top in these fifth century debates and later in church history when similar questions were asked again and it is this view that does seem to be clearly consistent with the New Testament as a whole. So James is not suggesting that our good deeds will be enough to make right our relationship with God. He is not denying that faith is the foundation of our Christianity. Rather he is asking the question from the other end and that is whether faith in fact, on its own, is enough. Where will faith get us if that is the only way that our Christianity is expressed?
And James’ resounding, in your face answer is, effectively, that it will get us nowhere at all.
So why does he say this? Are his words just designed to make us feel bad, to feel that all we ever do is come to church and express our faith in worship and prayer and the little that we manage to achieve in expressing our faith through what we do in the rest of our life, the meagre efforts of our good deeds, isn’t ever going to be good enough? No, I do not believe this is the right way to look at what he says at all.
Rather, I think what James is saying to his readers is something like this. Friends, brothers and sisters, do not accept the view that faith is enough. Do not fall back into that way of thinking. Do not accept that you can play your part in building the Kingdom of God with only foundations, but nothing built on them. If you do, you will fall into a trap. Someone you know will come to see you who is hungry or has no clothes to wear and you will think it is enough just to say “God bless you! I really hope you stay warm and find food.”
Be very careful, if you like, that your good news is not only for Sunday mornings, only for singing and praying. Be very careful that your church is not confined to its buildings, that its holiness is not just behind closed doors. That way your church, as a living community with an impact in society, may die. (At this point, just in case it is crossing anyone’s mind, I am not criticising those closed Christian monastic communities who are called to a life of prayer and devotion behind a monastery wall. That may, for the few who are called to it, be a very effective way of joining in the building of God’s Kingdom in the world. Rather I am talking about what normal Christian church communities are encouraged to do).
“But does everyone have to take this message on board?” asks James next. “Can’t I just have the faith bit and let someone else do the good deeds?” Isn’t it enough that I am part of a faith community that collectively does good things?
Again, James’ answer is a resounding “No!” Show me, he says, how anyone can have faith without actions. And this, for me, is the heart of it. How can you believe in God as revealed in the life of Jesus of Nazareth and not feel a compulsion to try to put your faith into action? Read the gospels again and what do we see? A hermit in a cave receiving the fortunate few and speaking strange spiritual wisdom? No! A prince, studying and writing in his library whose work and thoughts still intrigue us? No! A priest emerging from behind a curtain, from the holy of holies, to share just glimpses of the secrets that really only he is party to? No! A celebrity and magician? No…! Not even a holy man giving others guidance on how to live their lives in practice. Rather we see this compelling figure, born in poor surroundings and whose public life was utterly involved with those around him, whether the poor and marginalised, the leper, the prostitute, the widow, the hated tax collector as well as those in the higher echelons of society, the rich young ruler, the Roman official and so on and who routinely condemns the religious leaders of the day who fail to practice what they preach………. “Even those who reject Christianity in the old way”, wrote Clive James, the author and broadcaster, on the BBC website on Boxing Day just gone, “will be wise never to let the memory of Jesus die”, citing Jesus’ bravery in his actions in standing up, against those who wanted to stone her, for the woman caught in adultery and his complete acceptance of the woman of ill repute who washes his feet and dries them with her hair.
To force his point home to his Jewish readers, James cites the examples of two of Jesus’ ancestors: Abraham, prepared actually to sacrifice his son Isaac on the altar in his desire to be obedient to what he knew God was asking him to do and Rahab the Prostitute from Jericho, who hid the Israelite spies and let them down the city wall in a basket shortly before Jericho was taken by the Israelites, returning to Canaan from their wanderings in the desert after their escape from Egypt. For both, says James, it was their actions and not their faith alone, which worked together. Abraham’s faith was made perfect by his actions.
In fact, says James, it is a person’s actions which are the evidence of their faith. You simply can’t have faith on its own, he says, echoing Jesus’ warning against false prophets recorded in both Matthew and Luke’s gospels, that “you will know them by what they do. Thorn bushes do not bear grapes and briars do not bear figs....A healthy tree bears good fruit.”
And all of this is a long way, it seems to me, from some of the stereotypes which may have dogged the traditional Christian church in this country at least at times during the 20th century – the stereotypes of those who need faith as a crutch and those do-gooders whose good deeds merely feed their own feelings of self righteousness and superiority. These are simply not credible in the light of the New Testament and as an example James himself roundly condemns, earlier in Chapter 2 of this letter, those who show any prejudice towards the wealthy and well dressed in their meetings over the poor and shabby who attend. Christian action is not mere self righteous do-gooding!
So how will this encouragement to Christians, this command if you like, to put our faith into practice work its way out?
Sometimes it will do so dramatically and I can think of two examples of modern heroes which are relevant in the coming week and so worth reminding ourselves of, the first probably much more familiar to us than the second.
In two days’ time, on Tuesday 20th January, Barack Hussein Obama will be inaugurated as the first African-American President of the United States in a ceremony that may attract as many as 2 to 3 million people to the streets of Washington (including at least one member of our churches as Adjoa’s daughter Jesse has gone over specifically to be there!). But tomorrow, Monday 19th January, fittingly, is the national holiday in the USA dedicated to the memory of Martin Luther King, a Baptist preacher who was so steeped in the values of the gospel that he simply had to stand up and lead the fight in the 1960’s against racial injustice and there can be little doubt that we would not have seen Obama’s great day without King’s willingness to put his faith into action. A year or so ago the British politician, Oona King, set out in a TV documentary to show that Martin Luther King’s politics could be separated out from the foundations of his Christian faith. I think she hoped to show his faith as incidental, perhaps of his time, but she concluded by the end that you simply could not separate Martin Luther King’s political actions from his Christian faith and I am convinced that her conclusion was correct.
The second modern example concerns what was called the July 1944 plot to kill Adolf Hitler, led by the German Colonel Claus von Stauffenberg, about to be portrayed by Tom Cruise in the film Valkyrie which opens in the UK this Friday 23rd January. The plotters had many motives, but amongst the German resistance at that time, and included amongst those who paid with their lives, were some who were quite explicitly led by their Christian faith to stand up against what they could see were the evils of the Nazis. The most well known was Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a pastor and theologian who was imprisoned many times for his opposition to the Nazis and finally hanged in a concentration camp at the beginning of April 1945. His brother Klaus Bonhoeffer was shot as a traitor two weeks later for his part in the resistance, both of them just weeks before the end of the Second World War.
These are dramatic examples. Most of us are not put into such dramatic situations, but thank God, there is no particular hierarchy of good deeds, only people who try to be disciples. We are where we are and if we trust God for our lives, we are where he wants us to be and with the people he wants us to be with. We are part of these Christian communities in South London that we call St Paul’s and St Saviour’s in the parish of Herne Hill. And, however imperfectly, as disciples of Jesus Christ, we are called by our actions – actions of friendship to those we meet in our community, actions of working with children, actions in supporting those who are sick or dying, actions in generosity of our giving, actions in visiting those in prison, and in countless other ways, we are called by our actions to build on the foundations of our faith in this place that God has given us. The Christian vision – and in my view the Church’s vision for the 21st century – is not of a weed covered wasteland of mere foundations of faith, an old idea and community decayed and dying.
Instead – and I can’t put it better than our own Archbishop of York when he said in his inauguration sermon at the end of 2005,
“[Jesus’] idea, which has lasted over the centuries, was simply this: a mixed community of sinners called to be saints, a divine society where the risen Christ in the midst of it is grace and truth, and the Holy Spirit is at work within it. An inclusive and generous friendship, where each person is affirmed as of infinite worth, dignity and influence. A community of love, overwhelming in gratitude and wholehearted surrender, because it participates in the life of God”.
And just one example, quoting a few weeks ago the Archbishop of Canterbury who said that the answer during the current economic crisis will not lie in some larger than life economic giant who will save us but in countless acts of human generosity.
No doubt it was this kind of vision that fired the apostle James. Faith without actions is dead, he said. He could just as easily have said that where a community of love in action is built on the foundations of faith, then you look out and see, not a derelict wasteland but God at work in society, a place of life and hope…
Amen
– “Faith without actions is dead”
I’d like to start, if I may, by taking you back to a scene from my childhood. My father was a parish priest in a coal-mining community on the edge of the town of Blyth in Northumberland about 15 miles north-east of the city of Newcastle on Tyne. (Any sharp-eared football fans would be correct in thinking this is the same Blyth whose amateur team Blyth Spartans, lost 1-0 at home to the Premiership’s Blackburn Rovers two weeks ago in the 3rd round of the FA Cup but, unfortunately perhaps, the footballing aspects of Blyth have got nothing more to do with this sermon….). There had at one time been at least three or four coalmines, or “pits” as they were known, in Blyth and by the time we moved there in 1963 there were still at least two in production.
The route to school was to go out of the back door of the vicarage, across the garden, through a gate in the wooden fence into the back-garden of a house on the neighbouring council estate, call at their back door for the neighbours’ boys and then all walk for half a mile or so through the estate to a primary school right on the edge of the town. It was situated in an area or suburb known as New Delaval, except that the school was pretty much all that was left of that community. In front of the school wall was a dirt road, to the right a couple of hundred yards away was what we called a pit-heap, which is the waste heap from a coal mine. At the back end of the pit heap was the abandoned mine shaft and lifting gear of the old New Delaval Pit which had closed in 1955 and in front of the school, in an area of some acres – it must have been a decent size as it is now a golf course - was pretty much a wasteland, where once had been a whole community of buildings and streets of some sort. We knew that because everywhere you went you could find, half overgrown, the foundations of buildings, where once had been a thriving area full of people. These foundations were flat areas of concrete or brick flooring with just the slightest remnants of brick walls around them and there were enough to indicate a large number of buildings had been there, but now these flat foundations were overgrown with weeds and surrounded by rainwater ponds. I’ve always assumed that this must have been the coal-mining suburb of New Delaval, rows of 19th century miners’ cottages and so on. It’s possible it was a mix of that and buildings for the mine itself, it wasn’t obvious to us as children, but now only the foundations were left, for as far as seven year old eyes could see. Apart from the school and one or two derelict buildings in the distance round the mineshaft itself there was no human element left in this particular area, no life, no laughter, no people, no community.
Pause…
If faith “is alone, and includes no actions”, says the letter of James, written “to all God’s people scattered over the whole world”, “then it is dead.”
Faith and actions, belief and good deeds, a relationship with God and relationships with your neighbour. On one level James’ message seems quite clear. He was a very straight talker. “Don’t just sit there in the seats or pews believing” he might say to us all today, “get off your backsides and do something!”
But there is a lot behind all this and it may be helpful to ask ourselves what is the significance of these two fundamental elements of Christianity, faith and actions, and how do they relate to each other?
First, what is it that makes us right with God? Is it just our faith, that is what we believe, our having put our trust in God as revealed through his Son Jesus Christ, or is it what we do, our good deeds? This is the first question James poses for his readers, when he says “My brothers and sisters, what good is it for people to say that they have faith if their actions do not prove it? Can that faith save them?”
A colleague at work with whom I have a good relationship sometimes, not so good at others, asked me on Friday just gone if I’d like to have a coffee and we popped out of the office for half an hour or so in the late morning. We chatted at first about issues that we have both grappled with at work over the last few years. I don’t actually know what background of faith he has, if any. His name suggests he might come from an Islamic background, but I really don’t know. “I need to ask you something” he said after a few minutes, “it’s not work related.” “Is it true” he asked, “that it doesn’t matter how many good deeds you do, that won’t be enough on its own to make you right with God?”…that wasn’t quite how he put it, but that was the heart of his question and for the next 10 minutes we talked about Jesus Christ. We didn’t have long and we agreed to talk again. He asked for a book on how you reconcile belief in God with suffering in the world.
But the underlying question was there, in a coffee shop on Fleet Street in 2009, just as it was in the first century Middle East. What is it that makes right my relationship with God? Are good deeds not enough on their own? Is faith enough? Don’t you need to be a good person as well?
If you’ll forgive a brief detour into some of the theology I am just beginning to read in connection with my Reader’s training course, these issues have been widely debated by Christian thinkers over the centuries. A debate was raging in the fifth century AD, over 1500 years ago, between thinkers like Pelagius who was a British monk living in Rome, who argued that since God has given us the free will to choose to do what is right or what is wrong and given us the example of Jesus to follow, then we will be judged by whether we do the right things or not, we will be judged by our deeds, by our actions and on the other side of the debate was Augustine, a Bishop from North Africa, what is now Algeria, one of the greatest thinkers of Christian history, who also spent time in Italy and whose rigorous and compelling analysis of the New Testament makes it clear that we cannot fundamentally be put right with God by what we do, rather human nature is inevitably sinful and our good deeds are never going to get us all the way there. So it is only by God’s grace, freely given by the death of his Son that the fundamental problem of sin can actually effectively be dealt with. The good things we do are then a response to the grace of God and the result of God working with our human nature, in all its weaknesses, by his Holy Spirit.
It was Augustine’s view which came out firmly on top in these fifth century debates and later in church history when similar questions were asked again and it is this view that does seem to be clearly consistent with the New Testament as a whole. So James is not suggesting that our good deeds will be enough to make right our relationship with God. He is not denying that faith is the foundation of our Christianity. Rather he is asking the question from the other end and that is whether faith in fact, on its own, is enough. Where will faith get us if that is the only way that our Christianity is expressed?
And James’ resounding, in your face answer is, effectively, that it will get us nowhere at all.
So why does he say this? Are his words just designed to make us feel bad, to feel that all we ever do is come to church and express our faith in worship and prayer and the little that we manage to achieve in expressing our faith through what we do in the rest of our life, the meagre efforts of our good deeds, isn’t ever going to be good enough? No, I do not believe this is the right way to look at what he says at all.
Rather, I think what James is saying to his readers is something like this. Friends, brothers and sisters, do not accept the view that faith is enough. Do not fall back into that way of thinking. Do not accept that you can play your part in building the Kingdom of God with only foundations, but nothing built on them. If you do, you will fall into a trap. Someone you know will come to see you who is hungry or has no clothes to wear and you will think it is enough just to say “God bless you! I really hope you stay warm and find food.”
Be very careful, if you like, that your good news is not only for Sunday mornings, only for singing and praying. Be very careful that your church is not confined to its buildings, that its holiness is not just behind closed doors. That way your church, as a living community with an impact in society, may die. (At this point, just in case it is crossing anyone’s mind, I am not criticising those closed Christian monastic communities who are called to a life of prayer and devotion behind a monastery wall. That may, for the few who are called to it, be a very effective way of joining in the building of God’s Kingdom in the world. Rather I am talking about what normal Christian church communities are encouraged to do).
“But does everyone have to take this message on board?” asks James next. “Can’t I just have the faith bit and let someone else do the good deeds?” Isn’t it enough that I am part of a faith community that collectively does good things?
Again, James’ answer is a resounding “No!” Show me, he says, how anyone can have faith without actions. And this, for me, is the heart of it. How can you believe in God as revealed in the life of Jesus of Nazareth and not feel a compulsion to try to put your faith into action? Read the gospels again and what do we see? A hermit in a cave receiving the fortunate few and speaking strange spiritual wisdom? No! A prince, studying and writing in his library whose work and thoughts still intrigue us? No! A priest emerging from behind a curtain, from the holy of holies, to share just glimpses of the secrets that really only he is party to? No! A celebrity and magician? No…! Not even a holy man giving others guidance on how to live their lives in practice. Rather we see this compelling figure, born in poor surroundings and whose public life was utterly involved with those around him, whether the poor and marginalised, the leper, the prostitute, the widow, the hated tax collector as well as those in the higher echelons of society, the rich young ruler, the Roman official and so on and who routinely condemns the religious leaders of the day who fail to practice what they preach………. “Even those who reject Christianity in the old way”, wrote Clive James, the author and broadcaster, on the BBC website on Boxing Day just gone, “will be wise never to let the memory of Jesus die”, citing Jesus’ bravery in his actions in standing up, against those who wanted to stone her, for the woman caught in adultery and his complete acceptance of the woman of ill repute who washes his feet and dries them with her hair.
To force his point home to his Jewish readers, James cites the examples of two of Jesus’ ancestors: Abraham, prepared actually to sacrifice his son Isaac on the altar in his desire to be obedient to what he knew God was asking him to do and Rahab the Prostitute from Jericho, who hid the Israelite spies and let them down the city wall in a basket shortly before Jericho was taken by the Israelites, returning to Canaan from their wanderings in the desert after their escape from Egypt. For both, says James, it was their actions and not their faith alone, which worked together. Abraham’s faith was made perfect by his actions.
In fact, says James, it is a person’s actions which are the evidence of their faith. You simply can’t have faith on its own, he says, echoing Jesus’ warning against false prophets recorded in both Matthew and Luke’s gospels, that “you will know them by what they do. Thorn bushes do not bear grapes and briars do not bear figs....A healthy tree bears good fruit.”
And all of this is a long way, it seems to me, from some of the stereotypes which may have dogged the traditional Christian church in this country at least at times during the 20th century – the stereotypes of those who need faith as a crutch and those do-gooders whose good deeds merely feed their own feelings of self righteousness and superiority. These are simply not credible in the light of the New Testament and as an example James himself roundly condemns, earlier in Chapter 2 of this letter, those who show any prejudice towards the wealthy and well dressed in their meetings over the poor and shabby who attend. Christian action is not mere self righteous do-gooding!
So how will this encouragement to Christians, this command if you like, to put our faith into practice work its way out?
Sometimes it will do so dramatically and I can think of two examples of modern heroes which are relevant in the coming week and so worth reminding ourselves of, the first probably much more familiar to us than the second.
In two days’ time, on Tuesday 20th January, Barack Hussein Obama will be inaugurated as the first African-American President of the United States in a ceremony that may attract as many as 2 to 3 million people to the streets of Washington (including at least one member of our churches as Adjoa’s daughter Jesse has gone over specifically to be there!). But tomorrow, Monday 19th January, fittingly, is the national holiday in the USA dedicated to the memory of Martin Luther King, a Baptist preacher who was so steeped in the values of the gospel that he simply had to stand up and lead the fight in the 1960’s against racial injustice and there can be little doubt that we would not have seen Obama’s great day without King’s willingness to put his faith into action. A year or so ago the British politician, Oona King, set out in a TV documentary to show that Martin Luther King’s politics could be separated out from the foundations of his Christian faith. I think she hoped to show his faith as incidental, perhaps of his time, but she concluded by the end that you simply could not separate Martin Luther King’s political actions from his Christian faith and I am convinced that her conclusion was correct.
The second modern example concerns what was called the July 1944 plot to kill Adolf Hitler, led by the German Colonel Claus von Stauffenberg, about to be portrayed by Tom Cruise in the film Valkyrie which opens in the UK this Friday 23rd January. The plotters had many motives, but amongst the German resistance at that time, and included amongst those who paid with their lives, were some who were quite explicitly led by their Christian faith to stand up against what they could see were the evils of the Nazis. The most well known was Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a pastor and theologian who was imprisoned many times for his opposition to the Nazis and finally hanged in a concentration camp at the beginning of April 1945. His brother Klaus Bonhoeffer was shot as a traitor two weeks later for his part in the resistance, both of them just weeks before the end of the Second World War.
These are dramatic examples. Most of us are not put into such dramatic situations, but thank God, there is no particular hierarchy of good deeds, only people who try to be disciples. We are where we are and if we trust God for our lives, we are where he wants us to be and with the people he wants us to be with. We are part of these Christian communities in South London that we call St Paul’s and St Saviour’s in the parish of Herne Hill. And, however imperfectly, as disciples of Jesus Christ, we are called by our actions – actions of friendship to those we meet in our community, actions of working with children, actions in supporting those who are sick or dying, actions in generosity of our giving, actions in visiting those in prison, and in countless other ways, we are called by our actions to build on the foundations of our faith in this place that God has given us. The Christian vision – and in my view the Church’s vision for the 21st century – is not of a weed covered wasteland of mere foundations of faith, an old idea and community decayed and dying.
Instead – and I can’t put it better than our own Archbishop of York when he said in his inauguration sermon at the end of 2005,
“[Jesus’] idea, which has lasted over the centuries, was simply this: a mixed community of sinners called to be saints, a divine society where the risen Christ in the midst of it is grace and truth, and the Holy Spirit is at work within it. An inclusive and generous friendship, where each person is affirmed as of infinite worth, dignity and influence. A community of love, overwhelming in gratitude and wholehearted surrender, because it participates in the life of God”.
And just one example, quoting a few weeks ago the Archbishop of Canterbury who said that the answer during the current economic crisis will not lie in some larger than life economic giant who will save us but in countless acts of human generosity.
No doubt it was this kind of vision that fired the apostle James. Faith without actions is dead, he said. He could just as easily have said that where a community of love in action is built on the foundations of faith, then you look out and see, not a derelict wasteland but God at work in society, a place of life and hope…
Amen