Faith as a Verb

This morning, I invite you to join with me in exploring the essence of faith; and to ask you, how would you describe or define the role of faith in your life? How is faith made manifest in your life? And more broadly, how is faith made manifest in this community of faith? I think many of us would begin to answer these questions by thinking of faith as a noun—belief and trust in God or something like that. But I would say that there are theologians past, present, and future who would press us a bit on that and ask us to consider faith as a verb—something that we do. Frederick Buechner characterized faith fundamentally as a catalyst for service, holy work, if you will. He said,

“The kind of work God calls you to is the kind of work:

a) That you need most to do and
b) that the world most needs to have done.”¹

What you most need to do and that the world most needs to have done.

James, the brother of Jesus—a portion of whose letter we heard this morning—in the first chapter, which my colleague Patrick Keyser preached on last week, lifts up the notion of what we’re called to be: doers of the Word and not hearers only. Of course, if you were listening closely, at the end of the passage you heard today, James essentially says that faith without works is dead. I think it’s fair to say that James falls on the verb side of things! Barbara Brown Taylor describes James as a bit of a scold², and I can understand that. There are a lot of dos and don’ts throughout the Letter of James. In fact, there are 59 imperatives in 108 verses! But rather than thinking of James as a scold, I like to think of him as just being clear. His writing is not exactly nuanced. He states what he means, and he does it clearly and boldly.

If you look at the letter as a whole, at its core, it witnesses to the moral imperative of our Christian identity. Luke Timothy Johnson, in his commentary on James, says that there are four things in particular that stand out among all ancient moral literature. First, James’ concern is with morals rather than manners. Second, James addresses an intentional community rather than a household. It’s a community gathered together around common values and convictions. Third, James is egalitarian rather than hierarchical. Fourth, James is a communitarian rather than individualistic³. Johnson goes on to state that “For James, then, ‘the faith of Jesus’ means living before God in a manner shaped by the words of Jesus, and above all by his declaration that loving one’s neighbor as oneself is the ‘royal law.’”⁴

I think James lifts up for us the central truth that God shows no partiality and neither should we. When we live fully into an act of faith: we serve the poor; we welcome the stranger; we feed the hungry; we clothe the naked; we tend the sick; we visit the prisoners. It’s holy work and holy work we do together. You don’t have to be a big church like the Cathedral to make a big difference. I’m reminded of radical welcome and part of what James calls us to while reflecting on a ministry that was a part of the very teeny town and mission Episcopal church I grew up in.

Many years ago, our little town started a program called the Trustees Program. It was designed for people who were incarcerated in the local jail, but for really fairly minor offenses, such as possession of marijuana, which was illegal at the time. These were not hardened criminals who had done heinous crimes. The main idea of the Trustees Program was that, under supervision, the trustees would do community service. Now, for the little church I grew up in, every dollar mattered. And by that point in time, as our little town had shrunk, so too had the membership of this little church. On a good Sunday, there might have been 12 people in worship. My father was one of the first people to go to the head of the jail whom he knew and ask if he might be a supervisor. The head of the jail readily agreed. He knew my father and trusted him. So, my father would drive his truck to the jail—he initially had about three trustees who would do various sorts of community service around our little town. My father also managed to have them come and cut the grass and do a few other things around the church.

Now they were happy to participate—it got them out of jail, and they liked my father. He didn’t talk about it much, but I’m fairly certain he got them cigarettes and gum and candy and who knows what else. They got along famously and became friends. In that friendship and in that relationship, my father learned that they didn’t have anywhere they could go to worship, and that time with their families was so incredibly limited. When he shared this with my mother, she came up with the bright idea: Why can’t they worship here? And of course, why not? So, my parents got approval. But I have to say that maybe ten of the people worshiping at that church weren’t quite as excited about the whole idea as my mother was. But my mother was fearless and feisty, and she said, “It’s really going to be okay. They’ll sit with me.” The first Sunday came and the one pew that was full was the pew with my mother and the trustees in their orange jumpsuits. It went well. The next Sunday, the families came, doubling attendance. Everyone became community together, reflecting radical welcome where all are beloved children of God—each and every one—no exceptions.
As I said, you don’t have to be a grand cathedral to do transformative things when the spirit of God empowers you to do holy work. James beckons us to be doers of the Word and not hearers only. If God is putting something on your heart, perhaps a new ministry or just getting more involved in a ministry, I can assure you this cathedral is heartily engaged in radical welcome, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, tending the sick, soothing the suffering, and yes, even visiting the prisoners. Talk to us. Go to our website and look for the congregation tab. You will see there are so many ways that we can come together and make a difference—touching lives one at a time.

Buechner reminds us that this kind of work is what we most need to do and what the world most needs to have done. So today, as you explore the essence of faith, I invite you: come together, everyone. Let us have an active faith, to be doers of the Word—doers of the Word, touching and transforming this broken and hurting world. One person at a time. Amen.

¹ Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC (Harper & Row: New York City, 1973), page 95.
² Barbara Brown Taylor, “Worthless Religion”, a sermon preached in Duke University Chapel on September 2, 2012.
³ Luke Timothy Johnson, The New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, Volume XII, “The Letter of James” (Abingdon Press: Nashville, 1998), pages 179-180.
⁴ Ibid., page 181.