#puddlemuch

Recently upon wrapping up a sermon series at church I got to preach on grace. Grace is quickly becoming the center of my theology. So for the next few posts I’ll be exploring my evolving understanding, experiences, and practices centered around grace.

First, this week I want to look at two key passages of scripture in understanding grace and how we relate to God’s work in our lives. James 2:14-19 reads…

“What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you? If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,” and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.

But someone will say, “You have faith and I have works.” Show me your faith apart from your works, and I by my works will show you my faith. You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder.”

And Ephesians 2:8-10 fleshes this somewhat harsh text out…

“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God— not the result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.”

Grace is the center of my theology and practice. Grace is the love of God toward us and active within us, meeting us, blessing us and transforming our lives. It turns out that long before we decide to follow Jesus, accept Christ, or go to an altar, God has already decided that we are God’s beloved children. God loves us and is drawing us all to Godself long before we decide to cooperate. I’m not saying God is coercive, like the overbearing parent who demands their way. Instead, God is patient, and ever wooing us and all things to fullness of life.

This grace that goes before us also meets us where we are. This grace then begins to work in us and through us. The love of God for each one of us is not just a status report or a decree from on high. It is a dynamic and active reality that works its way into our hearts, making us new creations and inviting us to participate in God’s great salvation. As the author of Ephesians puts it, Grace becomes our way of life. I love the way the NRSV translates this: “Our way of life”. In the scriptures grace is not just what God thinks about us, grace is the love and presence of God that transforms the way we live every day!

This is where the James text is so helpful. We can easily think of ourselves as saved, good to go, we’ve checked the box and said 'yes' to grace. We’re good. We have faith in Jesus, we're all set. But James reminds us that if grace hasn’t changed our way of life, then we’ve not really said yes to anything but the idea of it. Faith, as just an idea, (“Yeah, I believe in Jesus...Yes, I accept Him as my Lord and Savior”) without letting it transform us isn’t faith at all. James goes so far as to say that faith without works- without evidence - is as good as dead.

In the early church to which the letter of James is written this was a serious issue. The letter leads us to believe that even early on in church history there were Christians who believed in Jesus with their mouths, but did not show this through their actions. The example given in the text today are those who see someone hungry and say, “Oh, I’ll pray for you,” and then go about their business, as if they don’t have a responsibility to act on their faith. This is a startling challenge for me and I think it’s a wake up call for the church at large. If our faith hasn’t changed the way we live, given us a new way of life, then is it even worth having?

There is a hurting world out there. There are hungry children in our own towns. And the people of this hurting world aren't just hungry for some good ideas or even nice prayers. They are hungry for food, for shelter, for love, for friendship, and for compassion. They are hungry for the people of God to start following Jesus and let grace shape our way of life! And before we get too comfortable, it’s not just them, the “they” out there. We are hungry. The church is hungry for real and full life, that is found in the midst of grace and vulnerability.

This way of life is what Christians call discipleship. A life open to the grace of God to lead us, shape us, and call us into the world to offer ourselves in love. This is hospitality and this is the church's mission. When the church opens its heart to receive those who come into our doors, and when we go out into the world to offer the grace we’ve received, grace is moving through us. James and the text from Ephesians remind us that the grace we have received is the same grace we offer others. We become means of grace in the world when we remain open.

As I’ve been studying Buddhism I’ve come across a koan that illustrates this well.  The koan tradition usually involves a teacher whose student comes to them and ask questions to be encouraged or led on their journey. We can see a similar pattern happening all the time in the gospels; some disciple or a seeker will come up to Jesus and ask a question. Much like Jesus who was known for telling vague parables or asking another question, our story involves a young student who comes to his teacher and has a question. But not just any question. He has whittled all of his questions down to the question, the one that can solve all his other riddles. And so the student comes to the teacher and asks, “What is the essence of wisdom?” He wants to know what is the sum total, the heart, the core of your teaching?

The teacher pauses and lifts his head, smiles and says simply: “The oyster swallows the bright moon...” If you or I were the student, I’m sure we’d be scratching our heads, leaving more than slightly confused, trying to pull back the layers of this riddle until we see the truth. But if we have a little knowledge of the ancient eastern folk lore, we’d know where pearls come from.

In the east there was this idea that on the night of the full moon, once all the waters were still, once all the fisherman have all gone to sleep, the oysters would come out. They would swim up from the bottom to the surface and float on the top of the water. There, as the moon light hit them, they would open up their old, hard shells and swallow the moonlight. Now we don’t need modern science or mythbusters to tell us this isn’t how pearls are made. But it is a helpful story. According to the story, the essence of wisdom is to open ourselves up.

We, like the oysters, can develop some pretty hard and calloused shells. When life hits us or knocks us down a few times we get back up, but if we're not careful we stop opening up. To open up, to pull back the hard shell, is to be vulnerable. This is the essence of wisdom, and I offer it as the key to a grace shaped way of life. God’s love is always with us, toward us, wooing us to live a grace shaped life. But If we’re not careful we can miss it. If we don’t open up, grace could just be an idea, never moving down into our hearts, never developing or producing in us the treasure like the oysters pearl. The true blessing of the pearl, the treasure that God grows in us, is that it isn’t just for us. It’s for others; it’s for the whole world.

Since working in the United Methodist Church I’ve had a growing hunger for the Eucharist. So when I finally found a good Episcopal congregation near my house that offered Wednesday healing and communion service I set out to make it a part of my weekly practice. The first week I went I found myself nervous. Here I was, an associate pastor of one church, going to another for their services. It’s just an awkward moment for me sometimes when I introduce myself. So I snuck in and sat down conveniently a row behind the other seven people who were there. I smiled, nodded and fumbled my way through the prayer book in the spacious but mostly empty room with a handful older women, a young man my age and a little girl who looked like she got drug in here with her grandma.

As the service continued I became more at ease, until we came to the time of prayer and healing. Everyone stood up and huddled together in the center of the aisle. One by one, each person stepped forward, shared a prayer request, and was anointed by the priest. After each person shared, the others intuitively reached their hands out and placed them on the shoulders of the one being prayed for  In this moment, my awkward hesitation crept. “Do these nice folks want a stranger praying for them, touching their backs? I’ve clearly stepped into a community with a more intimate prayer life…” But in the midst of my hesitation the little girl I had seen earlier, no more than 4 or 5 years old, reached out and grabbed my hand, as she placed her other hand on the back of the person being prayed for.

I was floored… before I could even realize what was happening the next person stepped forward, shared, was anointed and the group placed their hands on their shoulders as they had done with the first. But this time before I could even think to extend my arm, the little girl beside me grabbed my hand again, and - much to my wonder and amazement- lifted it up and placed it on the back of the person in front of me.

At this point I was beginning to weep. This little girl who I had at first thought probably shouldn’t even be there had just led me in prayer! Before I knew it or could rationalize what was happening it was my turn to step forward and I did. I shared that I longed for healing in my heart. Then, as the priest anointed me, and blessed me, I felt the strong hands of this small group cover me with grace and hospitality. Then I felt the small hand of my new friend touch my back as well.

As I the prayer time ended and we were led to approach the Lord’s table, I, who used to be a fully formed man was now a puddle of emotion and tears. I stood and was served the elements of communion. The practice of this small group was to serve each other the host, and somehow from the prayer circle to the table the little girl and I had gotten switched around, to where now it was my honor and great blessing to bend down and through tears touch her sweet little head and say. “This is the body of Christ, to show that Jesus loves you so much!”

After the service was over and before I could sneak out to gather myself, it came time to do the passing of the peace, the time where everyone usually extends a hand of fellowship and says “peace be with you” followed by the classic line “and also with you.” But these folks just hugged each other and to my surprise, offered each other signs of real peace and love. During this time I extended my hand to the little girl who promptly denied it to instead wrap her little arms around my waist in a hug that once again broke any hope of composure that I had left. Through tears, I said that my name was Kyle and asked what hers was. 

To my amazement she smiled and sweetly said, “Oh, my name is Sophia.”

Which in the greek means wisdom.