(Not) Going It Alone
James 5:13-20[1]
We live in a world that values “going it alone.”
The image of the “self-made” person has long been held up as the example to
follow. We see it especially in a certain kind of entertainment that idealizes rugged
individualism: the “lone” figure, strong and independent, who comes along and
saves the day for the “ordinary people,” and then rides off into the sunset, a
solitary hero. While that may be a formula for an entertaining movie, it
doesn’t work that way in real life. Despite what traditional wisdom has taught
us about the virtues of “self-reliance,” I would argue that for us to become
whole as human beings we have to have both a strong sense of self and a healthy
connection to a community.
In the New Testament, the family of faith
actually played a more important role in the lives of believers than their
biological families. Part of the reason for that was when they committed their
lives to following Christ, they were effectively cutting themselves off from
their families of origin. In that setting, living out Christian faith within a
community was vital. It was the only way they could do it. In our day, we’re
not normally cut off from our families because of our faith. Rather we live in
a world where families are scattered across the continent, if not across the
globe. When the people who make a place “home” for you move away, or you move
away from them, you can easily find yourself feeling “apart,” or “on your own.”
That makes the family of faith all the more important for many in our day as
well. We may have different reasons for it, but the community of faith is still
the primary context for living the Christian life.
I think that’s why James closed his letter
with some unusual instructions about confession, forgiveness, anointing and
healing. I think James knew a very important truth that too often gets swept
aside in our highly mobile world. We need others to sustain our faith. Although
there have been solitary individuals throughout the history of the faith, I
would say they’ve been the exception rather than the rule. I think James knew
that. I think he knew that, however strong our faith may be, we’re all subject
to the same human failings. And when we fall short, we need someone to whom we
can turn who will make the promise of forgiveness real for us. We need a
community that embodies restoration and healing.
Ironically, in this world where we’re so
isolated from one another, there are many who take a “go it alone” approach to
spirituality. One reason for that is there’s a “gospel” out there that promises
if you say the right words and go through a right motions, you get “saved”,
you’re made whole and complete, instantaneously. Over the years I’ve come to
see that as a kind of spiritual hocus-pocus. Or maybe religious quackery
peddling snake oil. Of course, it’s theologically true that our forgiveness and
healing were completely and finally accomplished through Jesus Christ long ago.
But James knew that forgiveness and healing take a community. For it to really
get into our hearts and souls and lives, it takes a community. Theoretical
theology needs human flesh in order to translate into a real change of life.
The only way any of us finds wholeness in this world is through community.
Something about the way we’re put together as human beings makes it so that we
just cannot grasp such high and holy truths unless someone is there to show us
the grace and mercy and love of God in action. I believe that’s the only way we
can truly become whole.
That’s where our Gospel lesson comes in. Mark
reminds us that our commitment to care for even the “little ones” who believe
in Jesus defines us as a community. We tend to assume that Jesus was talking
about children when he referred to making the “little ones” stumble. But
elsewhere he refers to the “least” of these “my brothers and sisters” who were
hungry, alone, and in need of community as the place where they would encounter
him: he said that what we do “for one of the least of these brothers and sisters
of mine” we have done for him (Mt 25:40, CEB). And that was the place
where he expected his followers to show up as well. With the least and the last
and the left out; the outcasts, the sinners, and the shut out. They’re the
“little ones” that are to be the object of our concern.
In the New Testament, Jesus and the Apostles
envision the church as a community defined by forgiveness, unconditional love,
and mercy. That kind of mercy is called “charity” in the King James Version.
I think we can get confused about that, because “charity” means something
different to us. The Latin caritas translates the Greek word agape,
and both of them speak of self-giving love, unconditional love, merciful love.
It’s the love that Jesus showed for us all, “righteous” and “sinners” alike.
Charity in the sense of caritas isn’t something you do to get a break on
your taxes. It’s a way of life that flows from the experience of the love and
grace and mercy of God. It’s a matter of actually caring about other people,
what happens to them, their quality of life, their hopes and their fears, their
wellbeing.
That’s the kind of life we’re called to live
as Christians. We’re called to live together in a community that forgives, that
restores, and that “saves souls,” as our Scripture lesson from James makes
clear (James 5:19-20). The version we read puts it this way, “whoever brings
the sinner back from wandering will save that person from death” (Jas 5:20, NLT).
But it could be translated more literally in terms of “saving” their “soul.” Scholars
debate “who” is saving “whom” in this passage—the “restorer” or the one who is
“restored.” But I think one of the most foundational truths of the community of
faith is that we’re all “saved” together in the process of acting out the mercy
of God toward one another and toward all people![2] It’s
not an either/or, it's a both/and. As we extend God’s mercy and love to others,
they experience restoration, but so do we.
We’re not called to “go it alone” as followers
of Jesus. We’re called to live together in a community that shares with others,
that blesses others, that cares for others—whoever, whatever, wherever,
whenever. Until we get that part right with each other, nothing we try to do in
“mission” will make much of a difference. But when we do get that part right, maybe
we can breathe new life into those around us, and in the process breathe a
little life into ourselves. We’re all saved, we’re all restored, we’re all made
whole together. Especially in this challenging time, we need a community where
we love and are loved if we’re going to thrive. Holding on to the faith that
God is working to bring grace and peace and mercy and love and joy and new life
to every life in the midst of all that’s going on right now doesn’t happen well
when we try to go it alone. We can only hold firmly to our faith when we put it
into practice together in a community.
[1] ©
2024 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 9/29/2024 for
Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman NE.
[2] Cf. similarly Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics 4.2:731: “There is no other faith than that ‘which worketh by love’” (alluding to Galatians 5:6).
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