The epistles is James 1:17-27.  It begins with the statement:

¹⁷ Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. 



The blogging is not going great.  My goal was to simply reflect on the lectionary passages for the week, but I am already struggling with perfectionism.  I want to have a pile of commentaries.  I want to produce a more polished reflection, but that is not the task I have time for, or the one I have set out for myself.  So, I will try and get into the thick of it again and plod on with reflection rudimentary and frequent.  

God does not change, but the example of change-- "like shifting shadows" --is not especially comforting.   It seems to leave a lot of room.  There are many things that change less than shifting shadows, but that are still too undependable.  It is best to connect the example "like shifting shadows" to the name of God in this passage, "Father of the heavenly lights."  Certainly, the sun and the stars and the moon locked into their places of permanence in the heavens are the not at all like shadows.  They persist, creating the steady light that consistently illuminates the passing chiaroscuro of shadows--the world may grow darker, or, the world may wax brighter, but, God doesn't change,  God remains, the unyielding divine light.

There is a lot in this passage, but I will comment on one more aspect.

²⁶ Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless. 

 There is much I could reflect on in the final part of the passage.  I certainly feel convicted by the admonishment to be a doer of the law, and not just a hearer.   Yet, even more, I feel convicted by the close connection between "true religion" and my speaking.  I can get caught up in doing the right thing and yet speak evil of it.  I can mock doing it, be wry and uncharitable, and choose wittiness and derision over faithfulness.  I do a pretty good job (trying) to hear God's voice and to implement it, but my tongue can turn against my own attempts at faithfulness.  I think it is a kind of reflexive self-protection.  I fear seeming silly for my earnest community life, for my attempts at fidelity  and I sometimes bury my activities under a barrage of irony.  I wonder if in doing so, I am not being humble, a Midwest self-abnegant , but,  whether I am being proud?  r

So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbours, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil. Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labour and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.

I like the image here of "putting away falsehood."  It makes me think of "falsehood" as a garment to be stripped off and put back in the closet.  Put it away.  Enough.  Authenticity is a tough one.  I believe that as Christians we are called to be truthful and authentic, but there is certainly a sort of pseudo-theological admonishment "to be yourself"  that can just code for libertarianism and the false assurance that you are just fine the way you are, there is also that Catcher and the Rye "be yourself" that is always pointing a finger at all the fakes out there and never really stopping to recognize the falsehoods that we all require to cover our vulnerability... this can be cruel.

Yet, we are suppose to speak truth to our neighbors-- the passage tell us to speak the truth because "we are members of one another."  This rationale is of course deeply relational.  It employs language used  elsewhere to describe marriage, sex, the church, and our bond with Christ.

  I am glad, however, that something deeper than mere  "truth" is keeping us bound to our neighbors, that our membership with others is dependent on something deeper than our truth-telling or our ability to express ourselves authentically.  I am glad the passage works the other way.  That our membership with our neighbors (something prior to any of our speech acts true of not, or action authentic or not) binds us first and primarily.

The next part of this passage discomforts me a bit.  I am uncomfortable with the infinitive--"be angry."   It is easy for me to rush on to the next parts "don't sin in anger,"  "do not be perpetually angry,"  but for now I will pause and think about the fact that anger itself is allowed just not "making room for the devil."  At the risk of falling into the morose of psycho-babble and over-confession, I have an easier time not being angry and a much more difficult time not allowing room for the devil in the spaces that hurt invariable carves out within my soul.  I might not be quick to rush towards anger or even that apt to hold a long term grudge, but I certainly allow injuries to hollow out a portion of my soul.  I don't know if the remedy for this is to allow myself to "be angry" or if there is another solution.  

Immediately the text directs those who steal to stop stealing and to take up honest work. Yet, what is particularly appealing here is the rationale for earning this wage: "so as to have something to share with the needy."  Here is a definition of being financially blessed. As I mentioned last time:  money is something that I am really truly struggling with for the first time.  This is a good reminder.  I am successful enough to share and my sharing is the only legitimate measure of my success.


The rest of the passage is just something that I should read and re-read and let soak deep into my soul.

Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. 

I am trying to work my way through each week's lectionary texts.
 

 ²⁷Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.

I have been desperate to get a job lately.  As I have said over and over and over again.... I want to feel like an ADULT.  When did I get to this point? --- This point where my sense of maturity is so tightly tied to employment?

I always tell my two older children that "being an adult" means taking care of others.  I certainly do that!  Yet, whatever my theoretical understanding of human maturity,  I desperately want to get my pay--tangible evidence that I have worth, that people need me, and that at a practical level, I am valued.

Indeed--just lately-- more than ever before in my life-- I have been really craving stuff.  Nice stuff.  Coaches, and beds, and cars, and canoes, and new running shorts, and little bungalows.  Friends are getting these things and I have been wanting them.  Even more troubling is that I feel like they are deserved--that Doug and I are people with the kind of gifts that deserve to be rewarded in this way--  That, moreover, we must be failing or doing something really perverse if we are not obtaining these things.  It is hard to accept instead of these things a promissory note from God--what tender? " This bearer is entitled one free ticket to heaven."   Right now it just feel like an entitlement to absolutely banal, white, Western, first- world suffering.  Suffering people thinking that you are a slacker, or lazy, or just not too talented, or not very likeable.....  There is much worse suffering, but this is where I am right now.  I am willing to give up things, but I am not really sure if it is doing anyone any good. Is the world better because Doug and I aren't lawyers.  Moreover, I am not understanding why I should give these things up when other wonderful and faithful people aren't. . . .  So-in-so, they are great... they are great Christians AND they get stuff.  Good stuff.  I want stuff.  Or, that is more or less how it works....

If this eternal pay is more than just a free ticket to heaven--you can't win that anyway--then, what is it?  Shouldn't I just be bursting with joy?  Look at all the diversity at my dinner table? Shouldn't I be learning amazing lesson from living with so many people, from so many walks of life?  Isn't it all suppose to be a little piece of heaven?  Aren't I suppose to be getting a foretaste of the eternal pay, of a future great, reward.....?

What's going wrong?