How many of you have heard “I’ll pray for you” or “you’re in my prayers” and wonder if the person who has shared this sentiment with you went on to pray for you or your situation? Do you catch yourself saying these words in situations so overwhelming that prayer seems like the only thing you can do, except you forget about what you said ten minutes after you’ve said them? I think most of us can admit to uttering these words and then not really following through on them. How many times have we heard “thoughts and prayers” being offered by leaders after horrific events like school shootings and climate crisis caused natural disasters, and known in our hearts and minds that those very leaders aren’t thinking about the victims thirty seconds after the comment. That they aren’t going to do anything to change things so that “thoughts and prayers” are no longer needed? Empty words make us mad.
James, the author of our Christian Gospel passage this morning, feels the very same way and has not qualms about making his feelings known. He cuts his audience (and us) no slack. It’s pretty clear that James has no time for wishing someone well without actually getting to the work of helping them out – imagine, he says, a sibling has no clothes and no food, and instead of giving them something to wear, some good food to eat, you simply say “go in peace, be warm and well fed” – well, friends, according to James that is dead faith. That kind of faith has no meaning, no teeth, no action. It feels harsh, but really what James is doing is trying desperately to draw our attention to the fact that faith needs to move, it needs to be active, it needs to be a verb. Faith isn’t simply what we think or say… it needs to show up in our hands, our feet, our wallets, our calendars, and our choices. To have faith in words only is a faith that is dead. Ouch.
Jewish scholar Amy Jill Levine, in an interview with Broadview magazine, said “The Epistle of James, which I think is a fabulous epistle, says faith without works is dead. I think that ought to be posted everywhere.” Signs with James’ words on them posted right next to our scent sensitivity policy and our wash your hands posters. Printed out big and posted in a central spot so that every person can see it when they come in and when they leave. Faith that doesn’t influence and change how we live isn’t faith at all – it’s just words.
Fine, we get that. But honestly James was writing for a people in a very different time and context, right? We live in a time of political chaos, climate crisis, widening social and economic inequality, with people and creation hurting desperately. The need for action, for hope, for faith is massive, and sometimes our efforts feel so very small in comparison. So why bother – why bother having faith, why bother having hope. We might as well close up shop now and head home because there is little that we can do to change the world.
Right?
Sure, you can absolutely do that. You can absolutely work on the assumption that there is very little you can do to live into God’s dream for the world or you can begin to shift your mindset around the idea of hope. You see, Kate Davies, author of Intrinsic Hope: Taking Action in Troubled Times, gives us a different way of understanding hope in the world and hope is just one of the manifestations of faith. Extrinsic hope, or conventional hope, focuses on a particular outcome – like hoping a particular policy passes, or the wildfire is contained, or a specific political outcome. And what happens when that outcome doesn’t happen: we’re crushed, we slip into despair. Intrinsic hope on the other hand is an internal way of being, it’s hope that lives inside of us, that comes from choosing to act with love and justice in all things, no matter the result. It is a commitment to living life courageously and positively. It’s a hope rooted in God’s presence and action in this world with and through us, regardless of success or failure.
It’s the kind of hope that knows that little steps need to be taken in order to make a difference. Yes, I am fully aware that the climate crisis that we are currently living in is huge and multifaceted, and likely won’t be solved by recycling our paper or driving EVs. But I found hope in something that Kate Davies wrote: “the entire crisis was created by small acts, many of which caused harm unintentionally. Therefore it is possible that it can be undone by many small, intentional acts of human decency and kindness. And if we persevere in taking small steps day after day, year after year, we may be able to resolve our problems more quickly than they were created.” By taking these small hopeful, faithful actions, we find ourselves focusing on what we can do instead of what we can’t. We start to internalize hope, making it part of who we are rather than letting the outside world determine it for us.
James reminds us that faith without action – well, is dead faith. Maybe it would be better to say that faith needs to be a verb, it needs to be alive and expressed in small acts that can combine and grow and ripple out into something bigger. We need to start with a shared meal, a petition signed, a learning opportunity taken, a prayer offered. Faith in action, or walking the talk, is a reflection of the internal hope that we carry, is a sign that we know that God is indeed present and working in creation.
The world doesn’t need us to have all the answers or to fix everything. Malcolm Gladwell reminds us of this in his book Tipping Point: “there is a tipping point, when the number of people who think or act in a certain way becomes a critical mass and social change happens spontaneously. It’s the transformative moment when an idea, trend, or social behavior crosses a threshold and spreads like wildfire.” We don’t need to have all the answers, but we do need to be willing to act from faith, grounded in hope that doesn’t depend on outcomes, but does depend on God.
So maybe the invitation is simple: can you think of one small step you might be able to take this week? Maybe you write a letter to your MP with concerns about clean drinking water on reserves. Maybe you decide to ride a bike or walk rather than drive. Maybe you make muffins for someone who is grieving. Maybe you come to church to pray for those folk you are worried about. Each little step grows hope – an internal, intrinsic hope that is resilient, steady and courageous.
Faith without action is dead. Faith with works – small, ordinary actions – can change lives, help to heal creation, and can keep us rooted in and reflecting out God’s living hope in creation and in us
May it be so, Amen.
