Oh my goodness, haven’t we been blessed by amazing weather these past few days? I just wanted to sit outside and soak it up. The dogs got more walks while La Donna was away for a few days, just because I wanted to be out in the sunshine and breezes. I had to wear a jacket this morning! The sky has been this wonderful shade - blue doesn’t do it justice. Azure comes closer, cerulean. Blue is just to common for the color that was surrounding us these past few days. The few clouds that did appear yesterday, were wispy accents just drawing our attention to the deeper color of the sky around them. Just glorious.
Even when it rained. Yeah, ok, in this same period of time over which I am waxing eloquent of the wonder of the weather, we had some rain. Here and there, drizzles and downpours, even thunderstorms whipped up all of a sudden, catching us unaware, reminding us that we aren’t in charge. We don’t hold all the power in this created world of which we are a part. And that’s a good thing. More than that, that’s a God thing.
That’s part of the gift we’ve been given, we who lay claim to faith, we who seek to discover God in us and around us. The gift is that when we encounter beauty we know who to thank. We know who is hovering behind every wisp of cloud, who showers down in every drop of rain onto a parched ground needing sustenance. And we are blessed by sunshine and rainstorms, in equal measure. We are learning to rejoice in the up and the down, the laughter and the tears, in the love that breaks our hearts and fills us up all at the same time.
And just how do we learn this? Because there are days... days when our grip is feeble and our confidence is shaken. Where do we learn to trust in a community that lets us down more often than it has our back it seems? What prerequisites do we need for this course, what is the workload, where is the syllabus, what books do we need to buy, what tools do we need for the labs? What does it take?
Time. Well, not just time. Time and open eyes. Time and a divine awareness. Time and hope. At least that’s what James tells us.
James 5:7-11 Be patient, therefore, beloved, until the coming of the Lord. The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains. 8 You also must be patient. Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near. 9 Beloved, do not grumble against one another, so that you may not be judged. See, the Judge is standing at the doors! 10 As an example of suffering and patience, beloved, take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord. 11 Indeed we call blessed those who showed endurance. You have heard of the endurance of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful.
Poor James, forever the whipping boy of the whole New Testament, ignored more than Philemon, dissed worse than Revelation. A Jewish text with a thin veneer of Christianity, some complained. Dubious theology written by a dubious single name author, purporting to have a family relationship with Christ. An epistle of straw Luther thundered from reformation era Germany, and too many others have amened since then. Too much emphasis on works, they cry, too thin on Christ, they complain, too hard on the rich and the church, too simplistic and awfully obsessed with the tongue. No, not that, but the use of the tongue to make words. He’s really hard on words, on oaths and promises and curses and ... well ... words.
Watch your words, James says over and over, watch your words. I wonder why he was so concerned about words? Well, if he was the brother of Jesus as the old tradition has it, then he remembers words. He remembers the words he spoke, perhaps, as the leader of the family when the eldest had wandered off. How he stirred up the rest of them about what that elder brother was doing, the shame he was bringing on the family, the burden he was laying on them all when neighbors said with furrowed brow “So, what’s Jesus up to these days” which was always followed by a guffaw and a slow shake of the head. They watched their mother carry that weight like a wound in the community. So, maybe it was James who gathered them all together and said they needed to go and get him back, pull their elder brother off his high horse and drag him back home, take him to see a specialist who could deal with his growing messiah complex. Yes, he declared, Jesus is crazy, he’s lost his mind, he said.
So they trouped off and found him, preaching somewhere, doing that trick that looked like healing, but they were determined. They sent in word. Someone whispered the words in Jesus’ ear, your mother and your brothers are here. They think you’re crazy. They’ve come to take you home. Jesus just smiled that smile, the one that was both sad and determined at the same time, the one that knew something no one else knew. And he said “who is my mother? Who are my brothers?”
Like a sword through their souls, those words had to hurt. They were judged, because they had judged. They were cut off, cast out, turned away, because they spoke before the listened, because they decided before they heard. I don’t think James ever forgot that lesson.
So, no wonder when the resurrected Lord finally went home and said to his little brother, I need you, he listened. He got up and started a movement that became a church, and hoped to hold on to the idea that we could listen before we judged. We could welcome before we turned our backs. We could wait and see what God was doing in our midst before deciding who was worthy of acceptance and who wasn’t. No wonder he was so concerned about words, he had put his own foot in his own mouth and still couldn’t get the taste of shoe leather off his tongue. So, he warned.
And then sums up his whole work by saying be patient. Look beyond the moment, look to what God is working our among us. Look to the hope and not to the frustration. Look to the harvest and not to the bare field that is before you. Look beyond the weeds, and the crooked rows and long hard summer and the back breaking labor, and the rain that doesn’t come or comes too much or at the wrong time, and the pests that want to damage, look beyond it all and see the fruit. A ripe juicy watermelon, grown from the vine you tended, the roots you planted, the branches you fed and watered, and there it is. Wait and see. Let it rain.
And hold on. That’s the last couple of verses, hold on. Hold on to faith, hold on to hope, no matter what else is going on, no matter how far away it seems, hold on. No matter how much it hurts. Either James never actually read the book of Job when he talks about Job’s patience, or he means something different than what we usually mean. Job whined and complained and argued and was convinced that God has messed this up something awful. And if he could just get God’s attention for a moment, then it would all be straightened out. Not the calm, accepting demeanor we usually associate with the idea of patience.
Though he did whine and complain, though he did want his day in the divine court (which I think he later regretted), what Job did do was hold on. Hold on to God, hold on to faith, hold on to a presence he wanted more than he wanted healing from all his hurts. That’s what James is commending.
Hold on. And the middle bit? The Judge standing at the door? Is that the usual scare tactics, Jesus is watching you” kind of thing? I don’t think so. I think he means that Jesus is close enough for you to hand over your need to judge, your need to condemn, your need to cast out and close doors. Just hand it over. He’s standing right there. He’ll take care of that. You just love. That’s all, just love. And hold on. In the sunshine and in the rain. Just hold on. And love. Let it rain.
Shalom,
Derek
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