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Practical Christianity.

I must confess to you that’s what I’m interested in. Practical Christianity. A down-to-earth faith that walks more than it talks. A faith that not only believes great things, but lives out those beliefs every day. A faith that works.

And if that’s the kind of faith that interests you, I want to urge you to embrace the Bible, and most particularly, the New Testament. Contrary to what many people think, the Bible is not a book about who begat who, not a convenient listing of life’s do’s and don’ts, not a book of complicated genealogies, not a book of theological doctrines that set us against the advances of science, or the marvels of medicine, or the progress of technology.

No, the Bible is the story of the people of God. People like you and me. People who struggle every day with the very real and sometimes painful challenges of birth and life and death. And the Bible is the unfolding story of the God who loves us, coming alongside our lives, teaching, guiding, loving, forgiving, healing – making it possible for us to experience the fullest heights of life both in the here-and-now and in the life to come.

The Bible is a library of books that tells the living story of God walking with people, and people walking with God. Sometimes it doesn’t go very well because of the flawed humanity of God’s people. And God gets ticked off at the people, and the people get ticked off at God! Sometimes it goes better than expected because of God’s immeasurable power, mercy and grace. And God’s people discover that God can be trusted – even when they find it hard to believe or understand.

And when you read the Bible as the true-life drama of people walking with God, and God walking with people, you begin to see yourself! Your family. Your circumstances. Your internal struggles. The every day issues you face in life.

And faith becomes very practical – not something you feel; or think or understand, but something you do in every circumstance and every relationship.

Now in my opinion, the New Testament letter of James is a terrific example of this practical faith. Last week, in chapter one, we discovered that Christians are called to be generous givers. We are to be generous giving away our love, and our resources. We are to be generous giving away mercy and forgiveness. We are to creatively give ourselves away to others in Jesus’ name. And, we learned that Christians must become good listeners, for there are people all around us who need to be listened to and understood before we can know how to love them. And, James teaches, Christians are to be people who devote themselves to caring for widows, orphans, and others who are vulnerable. Now, these are not theological concepts to be mulled over, but rather practical things to do every day of your life. Practices that will make you a better person, and this a better world. Practices that will bring glory to God.

And in today’s passage from the letter of James, chapter two, we encounter another very practical practice of the Christian faith. Here’s how I’d paraphrase it:

Don’t be partial to high-powered people!

Peter Kreeft tells us that in the Latin rite for the burial of an Austrian emperor, the people carry the corpse to the door of the great monastic church. They strike the door and say: “Open.” The abbot inside says: “Who is there?” The people shout, “Emperor Karl, THE KING OF AUSTRIA!” The response from inside: “We know of no such person here.” So the people strike the door again. “Who is there?” asks the abbot. “EMPEROR Karl,” the people shout. And from inside the reply, “We know of no such person here.” So they strike the door a third time. “Who is there?” asks the abbot from inside the church. “Karl,” –  say the people. And the door swings open.

The Bible teaches that God is no respecter of persons. Now that doesn’t mean that God disrespects us, but rather that God is immune to being impressed by our credentials. God doesn’t give a hoot about social status. God sees right through our pedigrees, awards, wealth, power, standing, and reputation.

These things mean nothing to God.

But they mean a lot to us.

One of my dear friends and colleagues used to vacation in Kennebunk, Maine. Each summer, the little Congregational Church nearby opened up for the vacation season only, supplying it’s pulpit with a different visiting minister each week. My friend was one of those ministers. And he loved doing it. It didn’t take much work because he could just pull a sermon out of the old sermon barrel and adjust it to the needs of the handful of vacationers who attended the services. And the people enjoyed it because they got to attend church on Sunday and hear a good message preached by a fresh voice.

One summer, a number of years ago, my friend was all set to leave for Maine. His vacation schedule was overflowing with exciting things to do. The sermon to be preached at the little church that Sunday was all selected and tucked away in his briefcase. The car was packed and ready to go. And just then, the telephone rang. It was the secretary of the little church up in Maine. She had just received a phone call. It was from the White House. She thought my friend would appreciate knowing that President Bush was going to attend church that Sunday!

When my friend told me about this, he was in state of sheer panic. He certainly couldn’t preach the re-warmed sermon he had planned to use, with its rather simple points aimed at people who were on vacation and not looking for something long and deep. And there was so little time left to prepare a new sermon for Sunday – a sermon that would be fit for the President of the United States, the leader of the free world. Oh, he was in quite a tizzy. I laughed and told him I’d pray for him. After all, what are friends for?

Well, my dear colleague made a bold decision. He yanked that old simple sermon out of his briefcase and left it at home. Then he drove to Maine and pulled an all-nighter on Friday night, and spent all day Saturday and most of the evening preparing a new sermon that would be appropriate for the President and all his advisors. Despite being terribly tired, he hardly slept a wink that Saturday night. Sometime around dawn he gave up trying, rolled out of bed, and drove down to the little church. There, all alone, he walked down the aisle and climbed into the pulpit, and began to rehearse. “…and so you see, Mr. President, Jesus calls the leaders of nations to…”

And just about the time he came to the end of the newly constructed sermon, custom-made for the President of the United States, the church secretary came running through the door, and dashed down the aisle. Out of breath, the woman gasped, “I thought I’d better tell you that the White House just called. The President has been called back to Washington, and won’t be here after all!”

A little more than an hour later, my friend was again in the pulpit of that little church, looking out over a small congregation of vacationers wearing shorts and tee-shirts, trying to make the best out of a sermon written for the wrong audience. He sure wished he had thought to at least bring along that other sermon. The one intended for real people. My friend had succumbed to what James describes as partiality.

And you know what? I probably would have done the same. How about you?

There is something about power – success – wealth – standing – reputation – that magnetically draws us, tempting us to get close to it. I once served a church where people had what they felt were their own seats. They had sat in them for so many years, the pew cushions were almost form-fitting! And once in awhile, a visitor would come, and not knowing the divine truth about who sat where would inadvertently plop down in one of these “reserved” seats. And it wasn’t pretty what happened after that! Needless to say, that church had a problem getting visitors to return.

But then came the Christmas Eve service when Sam “Bam” Cunningham – the All-Pro fullback of the New England Patriots – came to church. And there were these same pious pew-owners saying, “Oh, come take MY seat!”

What is it that causes us to make distinctions like this?

Well, James says it’s sin at work in our lives.

What appears to us to be beautiful and attractive about people sometimes masks and camouflages tremendous evil hidden within.  Here in James, the people are all agog over some wealthy folks who’ve come to church. They’ve given them the seats of honor. They’ve bathed them with special attention. And to accommodate these folks of high standing, they’ve sort of relegated all the people of low standing to a back seat.

And James points out what they cannot see for themselves. They are so blinded by the limelight of these folks from the upper crust that they don’t even realize the seriousness of their sin. James declares three problems with it. One, they obviously don’t really believe in Jesus who has chosen the poor – not the wealthy – to inherit the kingdom. James says the partiality they are showing to the powerful is a subtle kind of blasphemy against the excellence of Jesus’ name, as well as a dishonoring of the poor. Two, they obviously don’t understand that the drive for wealth, power and standing is at the very heart of what’s wrong with the world and that destroys people, most especially the poor. And third, what they are doing is sin, and this sin of making distinctions between people is on an equal level with the sin of adultery, or the sin of murder.

It’s that serious!

After all, what is the genesis of something like racism if not the destructive attitudes and the resulting behaviors created by elevating some, and lowering others? What was the impetus behind the holocaust, in which six million Jews were exterminated as part of a Final Solution intended to create a pure, Master Race? What was behind the Crusades in which the faithful went off to destroy the infidels? What is the root cause of injustice if not a raising of some and a lowering of others?

These are all fruits of a tree whose roots run deep in our lives. They are the result of ordinary people like you and me who have been taught from childhood that it’s both okay and good to make distinctions between people.

But now that Jesus of Nazareth has made a claim on our lives, we have to change.

If you’re going to follow Christ, you need to learn a new skill that is able to bridge all the artificial distinctions we make between people. James, in the last verse of our text today, calls it mercy.

That’s a theological word. But what it means is this: mercy is the act of loving people not for what they’ve done or not done, but because they are – children of the living God. And the very practical outliving of mercy is the art of  friendship.

Let me say that again:

Mercy is the act of loving people not for what they’ve done or not done, but because they are – children of the living God. And the very practical outliving of mercy is the art of  friendship.

If you’re going to follow Christ, you have to stop making distinctions, and start making friends!

And I want to close this morning by offering four practical ideas.

First, if you’re going to be a Christian, you can’t have just Christian friends. In a world that is painfully divided by religion, it is essential for us to go out and make friends with people who think and believe differently. Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, atheists, agnostics are loved by God, too. So bring God’s love to them.

Second, if you’re going to be a Christian and you live in a nice affluent neighborhood, you’re going to have to drive over the bridge or cross the railroad tracks and make friends with the people who live on the other side. The artificial distinctions between us need to be blurred. Why, the people “on the other side” are some of the most beautiful, loving, interesting people you can ever meet! They are people just like us. They are God’s children!

Third, if you’re going to be a Christian, you’re going to have to resist being rude to people. Servers in restaurants. Carpenters building our homes. Clerks in stores. Rudeness is nothing more than the practice of making distinctions between people. It is valuing yourself more highly than another. And it makes the world a sadder place. It ruins the day of the recipient. And it is an insult to the God we represent. Oh, it’s okay to speak the truth in love, but it’s not okay to treat people like dogs at our beck and call.

And fourth, if you’re going to be a Christian, you’re going to have to tenaciously hang on to Jesus’ promises. He says that when the kingdom comes, the last will be first and the first will be last, the poor will inherit the kingdom and the rich will lose their wealth, the lowly will be lifted and the powerful will be put down, the weak will be empowered and the strong will not prevail.

Do you believe Jesus is right? If you do, come and build your life on it.

So here’s today’s very practical application of faith. Be careful about making distinctions. Learn to live with mercy.

Go, and make friends in Jesus’ name!