People are a bit gunshy about the book of James - especially Lutheran people. And I get that, I do. We are people who believe, teach and confess what the Bible does, that we are saved by grace through faith.
If your entire world is all about salvation, being in the right number, the right group, then the book of James would seem to carry little utility. After all, what's the point of all this works mumbo-jumbo if they don't save, and are known not to save?
But hold your horses, ladies and germs, because the book of James answers a particularly important question, namely what now? The people who came to John to be baptized in the Jordan river were people who were baptized, and upon being baptized, or at least around their baptism, asked John the important question 'what should we do then?' Great question. And the people coming out to be baptized understood that their Christian life was not a matter of baptism, being saved, and then that's it. The crowds that came out to be baptized were crowds that understood that after baptism, there was still going to be some living involved.
John runs down for them what they should do. They should share their excess of food and clothing. They should not collect more than they are required to do, and they should be content with their wages. John understood, as well, that upon becoming a person of faith, there is still lots of living left to do.
One of the most frustrating things about being any kind of evangelist is the work that is required to punch through the surface reading of the ten commandments. For on their surface, you might be forgiven for believing that what God wants you to do is to just avoid activity. His rules are just so much 'thou shalt not,' which does make up the majority of the commandments. And if you look at that, you may think that the best route to choose is to be baptized, and thereby welcomed into the family of Christ, and then lapse into a coma immediately, thus avoiding all the pitfalls of sin.
But you wouldn't, would you? That wouldn't avoid sin at all. For sin is not just what you do, sin is what you do not do that you ought to do. Think about the parable of the talents for a moment. The parable that presents you with a scenario: three men are given varying amounts of wealth to manage while their master is away. The one with ten talents multiplies it through shrewd investing, and doubles the wealth. The one with five talents also invests it, and gains five more. But the one with one talent takes it and buries it, so that when the master returns, he gets his one talent back. But instead of being happy, the master is furious. He expected the servant to, you know, do something with that talent.
That is the Christian life as expressed through James. And we echo it in every worship service - we have sinned in thought word and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We were made to do good works, and we so frequently avoid them. We have the right opinions, sure, but who doesn't? But God has made us his workmanship, created to do good works, which he has prepared in advance for us to do.
So here's the rub. We are enjoined by the scriptures to do the right things, and frequently avoid them. But because we want to think of ourselves as good people, we have deftly swapped out good deeds for good opinions. But as James points out, saying to someone 'go on your way, be well fed' doesn't do anything for them. It does something for you, though. It lets you think of yourself as a goodie, having conflated thinking the right things with doing the right things. And if your perception of being a good person depends on following laws and rules, you will change them to fit what you do already.
Picture this, though: Christ not only shed his blood for the things you do, he shed his blood for the things you don't do too. All the chances you didn't take, the times when you walked on by and didn't stop, all those are the things that Christ died for. And the book of James, instead of telling you what you must do to be saved, tells you what it is that Christ saves you from - your deeds as well as what you didn't do. The other option is to change the impulse to do good with saying the right thing, but that doesn't help anyone but you.
Friends, I ask you a simple question: Did Christ come to be in a coma himself? We say he fulfilled the law, did he do that by remaining perfectly still, and thereby not sinning at all? Or did he get to work? The image that we have of Jesus being perfect is bound up by him doing what had to be done. Don't shy away from his perfection, though. Embrace it as what wins your salvation. Then once your salvation is assured, then you can think about why you are here - what has God placed you here to do, that only you can accomplish? And knowing that, you can think about the works that your neighbor needs. You will never do it fully, but the alternative is to not try, and to say that it is too hard.
And it is too hard. For you and for me. But not for Christ, who forgives not only what we have done, but what we have not done. And knowing that gives us the iron in the soul to say of our Christian ethic - "I may not do it completely, I may not even do it well, but I can still see it as something that must be done."
