I.
The Letter of James today seems to promote the gift of giving. Perhaps the
best-known line of the entire epistle is found here: “So faith by itself, if it
has no works, is dead.” Society’s shorthand for this: “Faith without works is
dead.” Our faith and our works: intimately connected.
But is it the “the gift of giving” the
letter writer is promoting here? Or is it the receiving of the gift of receiving -- receiving God's grace
that sets the wheel in motion?
We receive God’s grace through faith the
best not by giving of our gifts to others (which is good), but by receiving the
gifts of others – their presence, which we can spell in two ways. For James,
for us: The faith-gift we receive from God translates into the work-gift of receiving
the naked, the hungry … the bodily needy. And, of course, beyond.
I believe the gift of receiving is a
prophetic word – a countercultural word – for most of us church people. Good
people we may be: upstanding, public citizens who give and give and give some
more … and then wake up one day and find ourselves like the Giving Tree of
children’s book lore: but a stump, with nothing left to give.
Receiving God’s grace through faith and
passing it along as works is healing, not headlong. For our works are not essentially
about what we do. Our works are essentially about receiving others as God has
received us. Doing the works that sharpens our grace-receptors known as faith.
II. “Jesus grew”
(cf. Luke 2:52). And because he grew: Jesus screwed up. Screwed up -- as we find in Mark's story today (see below) -- by confusing the gift of giving with the gift of receiving. The compassionate
kicker to all of this being: Now we know it's okay when we screw up that way, too.
So many of us have been taught, through
the lens of a holy, high, right-hand-of-God Jesus – metaphors all,
transcendently useful – to envision Jesus as pure as the driven snow. For God
could not possibly send a sinner in order to save us from our sin – a broken
one to save us from our brokenness. Really?
Well, I for one would trust that Jesus –
truly human as well as reflective of the truly divine – experienced our
humanity in all our forms. God broken among us to save us not just from, but in
the midst of, our brokenness. Translation: Jesus screwed up, along the way!
III.
Proof of Jesus screwing up: Mark’s gospel story today. We hear, “(Jesus)
entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there.” I am guessing he
was more than a bit weary. Doing good for the kingdom takes its toll, you know.
And yet, despite Jesus' desire for a cloister, a triple threat to his world – a Gentile, a woman, a person with uncleanness in
her family – finds where he is. She propels herself into that house, whether Jesus is ready to
receive her or not.
And Jesus isn’t ready. For he first sees this triple-threat to his worldview
as an object needing charity, and not as a subject needing compassion. And an
unwelcome object, at that: “Let the children be fed first,” he proclaims to her
– “the children” referring to the
Jews. “For it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the
dogs.”
Hear that? Jesus screws up – big time. He has just called a woman – asking for her
daughter’s healing – a dog. For apparently, Jesus did not have enough to
give here. He was tired of giving! Like so many of us – pushed and pulled in
many DC and family directions – he was tired of having to try so hard! Reminiscent
of how we try so hard and we give so much when all a complete stranger might
want from us is to hear them – to receive them – and to hear their plea. The
gift … of receiving.
“But she answered him, ‘Sir, even the
dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.’” Translation: Jesus initially wouldn’t
throw her those crumbs, even. But she would receive those spilled.
“For saying that,” he tells her, “you may go – the demon has left your
daughter.” For it wasn’t her plea – and Jesus throwing relief her way – that
brought him around. Thanks to God’s grace through this woman’s faith, it was
her saying what she said and Jesus receiving what she said, that the first non-Jewish
member of this Christian tribe was received into the establishment of the
kingdom of God.
IV. If Jesus could screw up, by equating the
kingdom of God with how much we give and how hard we try – then, so can you.
So can any of us. And we can then learn from our mistakes.
For it’s not the bread we throw or do
not throw someone’s way that counts the most – as important as this bread could
be. It’s the crumbs of attention we care to spill along life’s way. And it’s
not the demands we cannot meet that ultimately count. It’s the hearing of the
person we can at least greet.
We who are “givers” – just like Jesus –
need to give ourselves a break. And in order to give ourselves a break, first
we need to know how much we are broken. And even before that: We need to know
that God in Christ was broken among us, first.
And not just on a cross of our own making.
And not just on a cross of our own making.
