Work, Holy Work

When they were scouting around the area of this village of which we don't even know the name, they came across one finely worked stone sticking above the ground.

Most of the rest that was visible was just a jumble of rock that had eroded and fallen from the steep cliff above the hillside village during the 16 centuries, mixed with the dirt from the hillside above.

That one stone got them curious, and they dug a test pit or two. There were more carved stones, which led them to get a permit for a full expedition there.

They came across small sections of mosaic which meant that they were in an important place, which could afford to hire a foreign expert, perhaps from Egypt, to design and install a mosaic in the floor for them.

But what sealed the identification of that particular spot as a synagogue was the stone benches around the perimeter of the room.

Not a single stone bench as would be usual, but a double row, the second higher than the first, like bleachers.

They are the places of privilege and honor, places where one could be seen and admired, not with the ordinary people kneeling on a mat on the floor.

Nothing from the ordinary worshiper has survived all the centuries since that place was a synagogue, but some of the wonderfully carved stone benches are still there.

The passage from James that we read a few moments ago begins with a complaint against his readers who have room for the well to do and not for the poor.

“Have a seat of honor” they would say to one, but “Sit on the floor over there” to another.

Is that the way the Lord Jesus worked with people? Of course not!

I read recently about a congregation that offered help to a particular person with food, housing, job training, hiring and all the rest. They had the resources to aid in lots of ways.

But when the man in thanksgiving for all of the assistance, asked to join the congregation, he was refused.

“Your kind doesn't belong here,” they actually said.

He was good enough to be treated as a charity case, but not to be a member.

That was a desperately sick congregation, and James' words should sting smartly.

James is not writing about high flying philosophies, but about practical applications: what in fact do you and I do because we believe the promise of the Lord Jesus to be true?

Welcoming the poor is certainly on that list.

We had a chance to do that last Sunday.

Perhaps some of you noticed the man outside the front door during the second service.

The ushers got him a little advance from the hospitality food while he waited.

He wanted to talk with me during the offering, but I asked him to wait and I would speak with him after the service, when we all leave to go to the work for our week.

He waited, and I talked with him.

It was a convoluted story, as they usually are.

He needed a room for one night until his SSI check would come and then he could leave by bus, and no, the usual suggestions about the Rescue Workers would not be appropriate since he has Tourette's Syndrome, and his involuntary words, gestures, and behavior makes him unwelcome at the Rescue Workers shelter.

What should I, acting on behalf of the congregation, do?

“Look, I've had 2 services and innumerable conversations already today. I have things scheduled this afternoon and evening.....Just go away.”

No, I didn't say that on your behalf, even if I felt like it.

I went with him to a motel, and discovered that he had been there one time and was not welcome to return.

So to another motel that finally did have space, and were willing to house him for that one night, so that he could wash out his few items of clothing and rest a bit before the next part of his lonely journey.

We made room for him; we gave a little bit of time for him.

And then there was the woman living in her rattly old van who slipped into the office very quietly this week and asked for some gas so she could get to family out in Ohio.

I could have said that since she was not one of our local folk I would send her away...but I didn't.

We drove up to Sheetz and got gas.

And then I noticed that she didn't have a gas cap so we went to the auto parts store and I got a gas cap for her, and then led her to the food pantry where she might get some food to continue her journey.

And then there were the people who came into the Shepherd of the Streets office while I was filling in for Dr. Smith who was on vacation.

They were asking for help with prescriptions, but the prescription assistance fund is seriously depleted.

In fact, the Shepherd already owed the pharmacy more than $1,500 that week.

One person we were able to fix up with a program from one of the drug companies to assist.

One inexpensive one I paid from my discretionary fund.

And then there was the $300 prescription that a man had to have in order to accompany the start of chemotherapy.

The office manager and I looked at each other and said that we could not turn this man away; somehow the fund will have to stretch even farther.

And then on the other side of the ledger is the man who came in asking for help for dental problems.

Our secretary Susan did some investigation and quickly discovered that he is an operator who has managed to redo his entire mouth cosmetically with his story of just needing a little help.

Sometimes it is tough to sort out truth from fiction, and to know how best to help, and when to send a shyster packing.

That is a sample of what I as official representative of the congregation have been doing lately.

But I am only in one place at a time, and each person here is in contact with all sorts of people all through the week.

How do you sort out the genuine appeals from the quacks?

How is compassion in the name of Jesus active in our individual lives?

James is reminding us that it is not an optional thing, and we are called to wrestle with the problems and to make the critical judgments that are needed day after day.

One has not truly heard the Gospel as genuine Good News until it begins to issue forth from our lives in actions that are as generous and self-giving as is Jesus love for us.

Most profoundly mysterious: he died “for us” on the cross.

He gave that much,

...and vows to change us, that much.

We need to ponder that passage which we quote at the beginning of the funeral service:

When we were baptized in Christ Jesus, we were baptized into his death. We were buried therefore with him by Baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live a new life.

A new life, a life joined with the crucified and risen Lord Jesus, a life of thoughtful and generous giving.

Our friend Martin Luther did not really like the book of James, because he recognized how easily the sin of pride takes over when we have done some good thing, having helped a needy person.

We quickly twist something from

“Here's a sample of what you might do.” into “ Look what I have done; it deserves notice, attention, and praise.”

Luther recognized how easily we slide from holding “justification by grace through faith” into “self-justification through what good things I have done.”

That problem never goes away, but neither does the Lord's admonitions not just to avoid evil but instead to do good.

Nor does the Lord leave us without resources:

the invitation of the Word,

the commissioning of Holy Baptism,

the strengthening of Holy Communion,

the consoling offered by fellow believers,

and above all, the promise of the final and complete presence of the Lord Jesus with us.

On this holiday weekend when we are to be celebrating our everyday work and all that we are able to accomplish,

let us give thought and thanks for two different kinds of work:

--the work by which we earn a paycheck,

--and also the work by which we use and distribute what we have gathered.

May they both be marked by holiness, that is, the recognition that they are done because of God's good gifts to us, and that we have opportunity to use them just as generously.

Our action at the communion rail is illustrative: we extend our hand, deserving nothing, and yet we are receiving everything, more than we can imagine.

Jesus reminded us of the law from Leviticus 19 You shall love your neighbor as yourself, and James says it again.

God knows what wonderful things can happen when we actually do that. Amen.

Please note: The preceding sermon is provided as a resource for the thought, prayer, and meditation of the members and friends of St. Mark's. It is the residue of a verbal event, and thus it does not have academic footnotes and other details that would be expected in a written document. The writer gladly acknowledges the prior thought and work of many Christians before him.