Sermon Sept 15 2024 James 3, Our Chief Weapon is Surprise  Rev. Betsy Hogan

Here’s the sermon I could preach this morning. Laid out beautifully in the passage from James’ letter to his congregation that Michelle read for us earlier. 

I’ve often reflected how ridiculous it is, really, to preach a sermon on any of the letters in the Newer Testament, either the letters of Paul, or Peter, or John, or in this case James – because the letters themselves already pretty much ARE sermons.

They’re literally these writers reflecting on the life and teachings of Jesus – what’s come down to us in the form of the four gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke, John – 

considering the life and teachings of Jesus, and how these can shape and guide the lives of the various congregations they’ve founded and now lead around the Mediterranean in the first few decades of the early church – 

and then writing it all down and sending it round, in the form of letters that can be read aloud. The letters in the Newer Testament are basically “preaching”. They’re already sermons.

And the letter of James is a prime example. Really in many ways THE prime example of a fairly short but incisive and focused expansion of how Jesus’ life and teachings are meant to be a Way. A Way of living that guides us – guides our behaviour, guides our attitudes, guides our relationships, our dealings with one another – on the ground, day after day, in our ordinary lives.

It’s kind of spectacular, the letter of James. It’s just immensely practical and graspable and useful.

No deep theology, like the letters of Paul to be sure, but honestly? Sometimes no deep theology is really exactly what we need. Just straight-up guidance.

And this passage in particular that Michelle read for us this morning, well – it could hardly present for us a clearer or more obvious sermon for the preaching this morning than it does. Which really is just this.

We’ve got to be careful what we say, because words have so much power. 
We’ve got to be careful what we say, because words can be SO hurtful. 
And we’ve got to think before we speak:
Is it true, is it helpful, is it inspiring, is it necessary, is it kind?
And if it isn’t, why are we saying it?
Because we get to choose our words.
They can hurt or they can help. They can tear down or they can build up.
We carry around with us this enormous power all the time.
We need to be careful how we use it. We need to be careful how we use it.
And there’s not a single person here who does not already know that. Not one. 
 
Which is why I’m not going to preach that sermon this morning. Because there is nothing I can tell you about how powerful words are, how much they can hurt, how careful we need to be to keep control of what we say and how we say it – nothing that James lifts in his writing of this passage that I can expand upon for the requisite twelve to fifteen minutes, that we don’t already know.

Which is not to say – or at least I certainly wouldn’t claim this personally – that we’re all totally on top of it. 

I suspect we do all at least try really hard, or at least I hope we do, because it DOES really matter what we say and how we say it, and it DOES really matter that we speak to other people like they’re actual human beings who deserve our civility, and it even really matters that we’re mindful not only of what we MEAN with our words but also how they’re HEARD. 

Because if at the heart of Christian discipleship is love of neighbour, then it has to matter to us – regardless of the purity of what we might have intended – how it actually landed. 

That’s precisely the humility of Christian discipleship that Jesus teaches about – it’s pulling back the primacy of our ‘self’ to be responsive to the point of view, the perspective, the human need of the ‘neighbour’. 

It’s unlearning decades of devotion to perfect English grammar and embracing the singular “they”. It’s wishing “happy holidays” because even if WE celebrate Christmas, they might not. It’s asking kids about their grown-ups, not their parents, when we don’t actually know who lives in their house. It’s pushing down the “Ugh Why does this matter?” and just honouring the fact that it does. Because that’s what it means to care about people. It means caring less about the defense of our own intent, then about the effect of what they hear.

And it matters. Which we know – and faithfully, we try. God being our helper. We try to tame our tongue, we try to be mindful, we’re not totally on top of it, but we do try, and we’ll keep trying. Because we know these things matter. The passage from James rings in our ears.

So that’s not the sermon I’m going to preach this morning. 

Instead, in lifting up this passage, where I want us to go is into James’ congregation. Into this two thousand years ago gathering of people, households, families, faithful people just like us – and to take a look around.

Because the thing about these letters of James, Paul, Peter, Jude, collected into our New Testament is that they’re never just deep theology or even just abstract guidance for living. They’re also windows into the reality of real congregations of real people. And the issues they raise, these letters – they’re raised because they’re real issues.

So if James is feeling compelled in this letter to be as emphatic as he is that tongues must be tamed because of how hurtful words can be – it’s not random. It’s not abstract, just because it’s good advice for faithful living. 

It’s because clearly there are people in his congregation who’ve been behaving badly – but more to the point, it’s because clearly there are ALSO people in his congregation who’ve been getting hurt. 

Who don’t need reminding how powerfully harmful an untamed tongue can be, because they’ve been experiencing that powerful harm.

They’ve been getting spoken to dismissively, getting spoken to rudely. Or they’ve been getting yelled at, or put down, or sneered at. Or they’ve been getting insulted or constantly told they’re wrong or talked about behind their backs. Or whatever form the onslaught has taken.

And they’re tired. Of trying to keep it together. Of trying to stay above it all. Of trying to ignore as best they can what are hurtful and harmful and damaging words.
 
It can be frustrating, we might imagine, for those people in James’ congregation for whom the incremental accumulated spiritual bruising of being on the receiving end of untamed tongues is all too real, to find in his letter not much in the way of advice or even comfort as to how to survive it all.

But James, I think, was probably depending on a basic grounding in the teachings of Jesus to provide the necessary strength to withstand and to survive the kind of verbal nastiness some in his congregation were suffering through. That turn-the-other-cheek that Michelle Obama, for example, distilled into the mantra ‘when they go low, we go high’… 

But far more essentially also, the kind of solid unwavering centredness that knows itself to be utterly beloved, enough, cherished, and deserving of kindness -- 

So when they go low, we go high, and turn the other cheek – but ultimately, utterly, always, that ALL God’s people, God’s beloved, are worthy of being treated like human beings who matter. So when we need to, we get to turn the other everything, shake the dust off our feet, and get where that’ll happen. Or at least, away from where it doesn’t.

I suspect that James was assuming – that those who were being hurt in his congregation had the resources of faithfulness to strengthen them. And it’s not a ridiculous assumption, even if it can be a little frustrating when what we want is something more direct.

But there’s something beautiful here anyway. Because here’s what James does unequivically. He focusses completely on those who are doing the harm. He is utterly clear in demanding change solely from those who are using their words as weapons to tear the people around them down. He is utterly clear that the problem is the attackers and not the attacked. 

And if that doesn’t seem significant, if it seems sort of obvious or not at all surprising or really quite natural, and why is it even noteworthy – it really is noteworthy.

Because to imagine James’ congregation as real people, as we’re trying to do, taking ourselves into the midst of them – it’s probably not really that difficult. Because we’ve all known people who attack with their words, and one of the things they tend to be really quite excellent at is deflecting responsibility for the hurt they cause. They didn’t really mean it, it was just a joke, sorry you got ‘offended’, or well you started it, or you deserved it, you’re too sensitive, you turn everything into such a big deal.

But it IS a big deal. And James doesn’t allow here for any deflection. Words have huge power and they can be enormously hurtful – and when they are, he says with absolute clarity, that’s simply wrong. And the only person responsible for that is the person who said those hurtful words. Who did that wrong thing. The only person responsible for making that wrong thing not happen again, is the person who said those hurtful words. Who needs in future to exercise self-control, tame their tongue, and not do it again. 

It’s an utterly unnuanced position that James takes here. And that actually IS noteworthy in its complete and unmitigated solidarity with those who’ve been hurt – who get hurt – by other people’s words. 

Because Michelle Obama – and also Jesus – they’re not wrong. When they go low, we go high IS a strategy for surviving it, firmly grounded in our faith and principles. When other people’s words are happening to US. We CAN make that choice, and it’s a good choice, and we very often DO. We sustain courtesy, we don’t take the bait, we stay solid in who we are.

But when it’s happening to the person beside us? To someone else in the room, in the neighbourhood, on the planet?

It was Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., himself deeply grounded in the faithful Christian principle of non-violent resistance, who memorably said “In the end we will remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends.”

What James is modeling here for his congregation, for us, isn’t JUST the clarity of ‘no deflection’ from who’s responsible for hurtful words, and who needs to stop and exercise self-control and tame their tongue and not do it again.

What James is modeling here for his congregation, for us, in the clarity of his calling out of those doing the harm with their words – is a reminder that where love of neighbour begins, ALWAYS, is in solidarity with, in defense of, in protection of, those being harmed. 

Not for James, the notion of “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all”. Love of neighbour – its first stop is with the one being hurt. Always. And IN that love of neighbour, not for James the faith without works of silent commiseration, but the active protective solidarity of calling a wrong thing a wrong thing, and demanding that it stop. As a Christian responsibility.  

It’s really easy, because it’s entirely obvious, to hear this passage from James and find in it the sermon we know we need – the guidance, the reminder, to be careful with our words, to think before we speak, to tame our tongue with self-control, knowing how powerful words are as weapons.

And not one of us can’t use that reminder! And the comfort of knowing God will never stop helping us do better! But there’s a hidden gift in here too. About the crystal unmitigated clarity of Jesus’ message that ALL are beloved of God and deserve to be treated like human beings. Full stop and no nuance.

James shows his congregation, shows us, what that looks like on the ground, when that’s the standard. Not only for us to follow, but for us to uphold in solidarity with, in protection of others. Not only for us to follow, but for us to demand on our neighbours’ behalf.

Because for James, that’s how we make things better. It’s how we contribute to a harvest of righteousness, is the way he puts it. Speaking up against the wrongness with words that are "gentle", yes, and "peaceable", absolutely, but at the same time absolutely clear that the wrongness is wrongness. 

That it's been seen and it's being challenged. And those words of challenge are then like a seed getting planted toward a harvest of righteousness. Our words are powerful, James is saying here. And if that means we need to exercise control and be mindful of them – which it does – it also means we have their power at our disposal to speak clearly when something's wrong. To lift things up to better, to build things up to better. To grow righteousness. 

Rightness. Holiness, justice, caring, in how people deal with each other and get treated by each other. Jesus did it all the time. Usually gently, nearly always peaceably, but always when he saw wrongness, always absolutely clear. That wrongness is wrongness and it needs to stop. "If you can't say anything nice, at least say it nicely”. Use the power of your words to challenge wrongness and contribute to a harvest of righteousness. 

Thanks be to God, who helps us on the way. Amen.