Thomas Kleinert
In 108 verses, James will tell you 59 times what to do, quite directly, bluntly even, some would say. “Be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger,” are good examples from early in the book. That’s good advice, and it was widely taught in the ancient Mediterranean world, almost regardless of a teacher’s philosophical background or religious tradition. “Be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger” — you can copy and paste that into any online comment thread, and nine out of ten times it will turn out to be exactly what needed to be said.
James used time-tested material. The collections in the book of Proverbs contain gems like,
Whoever is slow to anger has great understanding, but one who has a hasty temper exalts folly;
or
Those with good sense are slow to anger, and it is their glory to overlook an offense;
or this one,
Those who are hot-tempered stir up strife, but those who are slow to anger calm contention.[1]
James, though, doesn’t just share wisdom memes to fill up the space between the ads on your social media feed. James shares with other New Testament writings the deep desire to shape faithful communities of Jesus followers.
Be slow to anger, because human anger does not produce God’s righteousness, we read in James — and producing God’s righteousness is the point of our assemblies: right relationship with God and with each other and with all of God’s creation.
Be slow to anger, because human anger does not produce God’s righteousness. Slow to anger, it says, not, “Don’t be angry.” Sit with your anger. Question your anger. Ask yourself what’s motivating it. Talk about your anger with somebody you trust.
I’ve long loved a saying attributed to St. Augustine who probably never said it, so the words have to stand on their own, without the borrowed authority of the great teacher: Hope has two beautiful daughters; their names are anger and courage: anger at the way things are, and courage to see that they do not remain as they are. Be slow to anger, don’t just let it flare up and flame out, see how it can become the embers to fuel the slow work of change.
When James urges us to “be slow to anger” we also hear the echo of God’s revelation of the divine name to Moses at Mount Sinai:
The Lord descended in the cloud and stood with him there and proclaimed the name, “The Lord.” The Lord passed before him and proclaimed, “The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.[2]
James teaches that we are to become what we know God to be: merciful, gracious, slow to anger, loving, faithful. Our life together is to reflect and make known who we know God to be. Be quick to listen, slow to speak — not like hearers who forget but doers who act. Don’t worry about what to say about God, how to speak about what you know to be true — live what you know.
Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: To care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.
Keeping oneself unstained by the world while also engaging with it, that may require a lot of prayer, thought, and conversation… how to change the world without conforming to it[3] — but caring for orphans and widows in their distress is about as plain and straightforward as it gets. “Orphans and widows” is biblical shorthand for the most vulnerable members of our communities — families and individuals in economically precarious circumstances; folks who work every day, and still don’t make enough to pay the rent and eat; folks who don’t have access to good education, good medical care, good legal representation. Our care for them is the standard, according to James, by which the purity of our religion is being assessed — not the truthful articulation of our doctrine, nor the beauty of our worship, nor the fervor of our prayers. Not that truth and beauty, or fervent prayers don’t matter — they do, they very much do! — but only to the degree that they help us become doers of the word and not merely hearers; only to the degree that they form us for righteous living.
Much of the life of faith is aspirational. Many of us would probably hesitate to claim that we are Christians, and be much more comfortable affirming, with a measure of humility, that we try to live as Christians, that we want to follow Jesus. And yet, “When asked about the church, the first word college students think of often is ‘hypocrite’,” Laura Holmes reported years ago from the classroom, and I doubt it has changed dramatically since then.[4] There’s a sizable gap between what we profess and what we do — nothing new about that. Often we find it easier to see where others are talking the talk but are falling short when it comes to walking the walk — you know, folks like your neighbor across the street who tells you she attends a different Bible study every day of the week, and last Friday you heard her yell at the waitress because there was a lemon wedge in her water. Or the driver of the car who cut in front of me in the parking lot at Target and took my parking spot, even though I had my turn signal on, and then I saw the sticker from a local congregation on the rear window. I did bridle my tongue, but I said to myself, loud and clear, in the darker caverns of my mind, “So that is what they teach you over there?” You remember what Jesus said about all that:
Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbor, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ while the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye.[5]
So, yes, when asked about the church, the first word young people often think of is one that Jesus thought of as well.
James compares our trouble with becoming doers of the word with people who take a quick glance in the mirror. You check your hair or make-up, you make sure there’s no spinach stuck in your teeth, and off you go. The moment you turn away, you forget what you were like.
James contrasts that with the look into a different kind of mirror, the word of God, which he calls the perfect law, the law of liberty. This look isn’t a quick glance in passing. It’s an unhurried look, unrushed, honest, one that welcomes with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save our souls.
Bill Coffin said, “I read the Bible because the Bible reads me. I see myself reflected in Adam’s excuses, in Saul’s envy of David, in promise-making, promise-breaking Peter.”[6] You make it a habit to let the word read you to you, and you listen with patient humility. Søren Kierkegaard, a 19th-century Danish theologian and philosopher, taught that,
The fundamental purpose of God’s Word is to give us true self-knowledge; it is a real mirror, and when we look at ourselves properly in it we see ourselves as God wants us to see ourselves. The assumption behind this is that the purpose of God’s revelation is for us to become transformed, to become the people God wants us to be, but this is impossible until we see ourselves as we really are.[7]
None of us become doers of the word simply by making up our minds; it’s all about living with the mirror of God’s revelation; it’s about learning to trust the loving gaze of God.
There’s another saying, this one attributed in various places to both the Sioux Indians and to the Vietnamese monk Thich Nhat Hanh, so it too will have to speak to us without the borrowed authority of Native American or Buddhist wisdom: The longest journey you will make in your life is from your head to your heart. I may have heard and know in my head that “every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above,” but when I know it in my heart, all that I do, will express this generosity. You may have heard and know in your head that God is gracious and merciful, but when you know it in your heart, all your daily actions will express both the character of God, and who you really are. We may have heard and know many things about God in our minds, but when we know in our hearts that we are fully known and loved, our life together will be the life of righteousness, to the glory of God from whom all blessings flow.
[1] Proverbs 14:29; 19:11; 15:18
[2] Exodus 34:5-6; see also Numbers 14:18; Nehemiah 9:17; Psalms 86:15; 103:8; 145:8
[3] I’m reminded of Paul’s warning to the church in Romans 12:2
[4] Laura Sweat Holmes, Connections, Year B, Vol. 3, 276.
[5] Matthew 7:3-5
[6] William Sloane Coffin, The Heart Is a Little to the Left: Essays on Public Morality (Hanover and London: University Press of New England, 1999), 41-42.
[7] Stephen Evans summarizing Kierkegaard’s insight as quoted by Robert Kruschwitz https://www.baylor.edu/content/services/document.php/174976.pdf