Last night, I gave a talk at St. James’ Church in Manhattan. Tomorrow night, I start a Bible Study on the Letter of James in North Carolina. I am privileged to serve as an Associate on the staff of St. James’ in Wilmington, N.C. And today is the Feast of St. James. So I guess someone is telling me it’s time to write about St. James.

The brief letter attributed to James comes near the end of the Bible. It has staked out a unique place in the collection of books of the Bible. Martin Luther is getting a lot of attention these days as we near the 500th anniversary of the day he nailed 95 Theses to the cathedral door, sparking a reforming movement. Luther was big on scripture, but he wasn’t sure James’ letter was up to snuff. He described it as an epistle of straw. His beef with the letter was that it seemed to pile on virtuous acts/good works to the notion that we’re saved by grace.

If the scripture is like a symphony, we hear many voices for sure, sometimes wonderfully dissonant. And we need them all, including the voice of the Letter of James. It articulates what I call the so-what factor. What does the gospel look like when it goes to work in real life? Why does the gospel make a difference?

So I’m going to go all-directive on you this morning and suggest that you read the Letter of James. There are five chapters. Perhaps you might read one a day. It won’t take long. Ask yourself what it has to say to you in your journey of faith. There are many gems in the letter, but here’s one that sticks out for me. It’s one of the few places in the scripture where the word religion is used. It reads like this:

Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows and to keep oneself unstained by the world. (James 2:27)

Three thoughts on this verse:

Religion: It’s a word that’s not always in good favor these days. What do you make of the word? Many prefer to speak of being spiritual rather than religious. If someone asks you if you are religious, what does that mean? Pious? Puritanical? Hanging out in some place where fun goes to die? Break the word down and it means to bind again (re-ligio), maybe even to put back together. Granted, you don’t have to look far to find ways that religion has messed up, ways it is defiled and impure. At the same time, we sure could use some ways of bringing things together in a time when the center does not seem to hold.

Care for widows and orphans: It’s a commitment to help all those who need help, those pushed to the margins, those without defenders, those without resources, those who seem to be increasingly under attack. That kind of care is a mark of religion. Such attention binds us together. It’s hopefully helpful for those who are served. It’s transformative for those who serve, seeing that we are all in this together.

Keep oneself unstained by the world: Again, this may sound priggish, but we live in a world where, for instance, it would seem ludicrous to some to help those who are helpless. We live in a world that often says that to win, someone else has to lose. We live in a world that often thinks of scarcity rather than abundance, of merit over grace, a world that tilts toward resentment and covetousness, a world where others as seen as objects.

Read the Letter of James. Find a gem in your reading. Let it help you put faith to work in the world this week.

-Jay Sidebotham

Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
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Thoughts and prayers

A few years ago, when I was serving in a big urban church, a parishioner who was also a screenwriter explored the possibility of producing a television drama about a church. She interviewed the staff and wisely decided one of two things. Either the show would be really boring or no one would believe what goes on. Maybe her angle was wrong. Perhaps it should have been a comedy. As an aspiring cartoonist who does a lot of drawings about the church, I note no shortage of material.

As an example, the small non-Episcopal Church in which I grew up provided grist for such a show. Our family lore has preserved this story. It has to do with an older woman in the parish, influential in our small community, a bit eccentric. (It’s church, after all.) She was glad to let everyone know the depths of her piety. On one occasion, she was speaking with a friend at coffee hour. A third woman approached to share concern about some personal struggle. This older woman, let’s call her Jane, said “Oh, I pray for you every day!” As the third woman departed, moving out of earshot, Jane turned to her friend and asked, “Who was that?”

It’s easy to say we pray. We’ve heard a lot in recent days about thoughts and prayers. Tragedies striking our common life (shootings in Las Vegas, fires in Northern California, storms in Puerto Rico, Florida and Texas) have been on our minds and in our prayers. I suspect we all have personal storms, private turbulence that weighs on our hearts, minds and spirits. We know those struggles in the lives of people we love. As we’ve heard people express their concern, offering thoughts and prayers, the question has been raised: Is that enough? Is that too easy? Is it a dodge? A bromide? A dismissal?

All of this points to the connection of prayer and action. How do we pray not only with our lips but with our lives?

All of this leads me to think about the mystery of prayer, which is more about changing us than it is about changing God. It calls me to draw on the wisdom of spiritual heroes who knew no separation between contemplation and action in the world, people like Thomas Merton and Dorothy Day and Richard Rohr.

And the brothers at Holy Cross Monastery folks. Decades ago, a few of them made their way to South Africa as apartheid was unraveling. Church leaders there invited the brothers to come to the country to model life in community, since the violence of the previous regime had left people without those skills. A few of them went, like many characters in the Bible, not knowing where they were going or what they would find or what they would do when they got there. As they describe that time, they say they went and simply said their prayers, observing the monastic hours throughout the day.

They began with prayer, waiting for God to show them what it is they were called to do. Before long, the tragic death of an unattended child on train tracks bordering the monastery’s property revealed the mission. It would be about caring for the poorest in this town, tending to children too often left alone for too long. It would be about starting a school, providing quality education equal to the best schools in the country. It began with thoughts and prayers, which were indispensable. But it didn’t end there. They’ve done something beautiful for God.

These days, our thoughts and prayers are with victims of a mad shooter, victims of nature’s fury, victims of abuse by people in power, victims of indifference, victims in a world with devils filled that threaten to undo us. The thoughts and prayers, contemplative acts, are the beginning of a response. They lead us as baptized persons to strive for justice and peace and respect the dignity of every human being. What specifically can we do towards that end?

If you’re not sure, pray not only for those who suffer. Join me in prayer, asking God to show us how to respond, how to help, how to heal, what to do.

-Jay Sidebotham

Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org

If you’d like to join in this donor-based ministry, donate here.

Have you ever changed your mind? How did that happen?

As is often the case, converging thoughts from separate sources have made me reflect on my own state of mind, what led me in the past to change my mind, how resistant I am to that kind of change.

It started with a friend who reported he was taking a break from social media, convinced that Facebook was comparable to a pulpit, i.e., that piece of furniture that stands six feet above contradiction. My friend wondered: Has anyone ever really changed their political or religious point of view because of something they saw posted on Facebook? We could say the same thing about cable news, where viewers gravitate to punditry that confirms what they already believe.

In my work focused on spiritual growth, I often ask about what has helped people change or grow. Most often I hear that such as an experience has to do with challenge, crisis, or suffering. Often, it has to do with a relational experience, sitting down with someone who has something to teach us, breaking out of the bubble.

The chaotic state of our world right now indicates that we could benefit from that kind of conversation. That same chaos also suggests that we can’t keep doing what we’re doing, that we need among other things, a new mindfulness, a change of mind.

But what does that change look like? Is it change for change’s sake? Change in what way? What’s our compass?

About the time my wise friend chimed in with his social media sabbatical, I came across readings for the first Sunday in October, which have been on my mind since, as they talk about a change of mind. One of the readings was about the children of Israel in the wilderness, GPS deprived, challenged but also formed by that experience. They came out a new people, with a new mindset. Their minds were changed.

That same Sunday we eavesdropped on Jesus’ conversation with religious opponents, folks unable to see the new and amazingly gracious thing that Jesus was bringing into the world. The gospel writer says it simply: The professional religious people of the day refused to change their minds. Which makes this professional religious person ask again: How is it that people change their minds? And change to what?

The third reading for the day helped. (It helped so much I included it below) St. Paul writes to the beloved Philippian church about their state of mind. He calls them to be of one mind. (Imagine!) And he invites them to discover a new and different path. He encourages them to have the mind of Christ. Change we can believe in.

What does that change look like? The mind of Christ has to do with an attitude of humility and service, a mindset oriented toward the other. Paul confirms that we can experience that state of mind as well. In another passage from his letters, St. Paul calls his readers not to be conformed to this world but to be transformed by the renewing of their minds (Romans 12). Said another way, by the changing of their minds. Which comes from following Jesus, as simple and complicated as that may be.

It could be said that Jesus came into the world to change our minds. To make our minds repositories of love and compassion. To give us the power to change, when left to our own devices, we’re stuck.

Thank God he did.

-Jay Sidebotham

Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org

If you’d like to join in this donor-based ministry, donate here.

He has been called the most admired and least imitated of all the saints. On Wednesday, we observe the Feast of St. Francis of Assisi. If we ever needed a saint like him, we sure do need him now.

I spent last weekend at a lively church in Connecticut, led by a faithful and fun priest and friend, Peter Walsh. I admire Peter’s congregational leadership. As a former ad guy, he has gifts for communication and vision, offering his congregation specific and clear focus. For this program year, here’s the theme: What the St. Francis? The Shocking Relevance of Francis Today. Here are a few things Francis has to teach us.

He teaches about spiritual growth and change: Accounts vary on Francis’ early life. He grew up with some experience of affluence, on some level savored the good life. Experience in military, as a prisoner of war, and battling illness changed him. He learned. He grew. Are we ready to grow and change?

He teaches about compassion. Far from detached philanthropy, Francis’ call to serve the poor was founded in relationship, seeing up close the experience of those in greatest need. What can we learn about those who suffer greatest need? How can we minister to them in Francis’ week?

He teaches about creation care. Stories of preaching to birds and calming ravenous wolves, hymns in praise of creation seem timely. This week, many churches will offer blessings of the animals, one way of celebrating the goodness of God’s creation. I recall when I served in Manhattan and we held this kind of service on a Sunday evening. I will never forget the surprise when a woman brought a large iguana forward for a blessing. Secure in a Snuggly, she had carried it to church on the subway. After all that effort, I couldn’t say no. I’m not a big big reptile fan, but the goodness of creation was evident that night. How can we care for all of creation in the spirit of St. Francis?

He teaches about effective preaching. He told listeners: “It is no use walking anywhere to preach unless our walking is our preaching.” He also said: “The deeds you do may be the only sermon some persons will hear today.” What kind of sermon will your life be this week? Will it be a sermon with good news? With hope? With love?

He teaches about joy. Maya Angelou noted that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel. I often wonder what it was about Francis that 800 years after his death people still recall his joy. Let’s just say it’s not an attribute found in all religious people. (Note H.L.Mencken’s definition of puritanism, i.e., the haunting fear that someone somewhere is happy.) Joy seems to be the mark of saints, going way deeper than mere happiness. When have you experienced joy? Is there a way you can share some of it this week?

He teaches about hope. Francis offered this encouragement: “Start by doing what’s necessary; then do what’s possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible.” Where in your life do you need signs of hope? Can you take a starting step, and be ready for what might not seem possible.

Give thanks for the lessons of St. Francis this week. Honor his life and ministry and witness this week, by putting those lessons to work in your world, serving as an instrument of God’s peace.

-Jay Sidebotham

Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org

If you’d like to join in this donor-based ministry, donate here.