Proper 18 (10 Sept. 2006) “The Trouble with Friendliness”

James 2.1-17

Once upon a time there was a big, prosperous, prestigious church right in the middle of the downtown section of one of our major cities. There was a woman who occasionally attended church there, who seemed somewhat out of place. She lived on what we used to call “the wrong side of the tracks.” She was rather shabbily dressed, and her skin was a different color from most of the folks who worshiped in this church. And yet she continued to come, and the people were cordial to her, even if they weren’t exactly over the top warm and friendly.

One day the woman went to the pastor and told him she had decided she’d like to join the congregation. The pastor was a little concerned about this; the congregation had always tried to make visitors feel welcome, but there was sort of an unwritten rule about only allowing “our kind of people” to become members. The pastor knew there would be some church members who would be very uncomfortable if this woman were permitted to become a member.

Not wanting to hurt her feelings, he suggested that she go home and think about it very hard for a week, and then come back to him. She did so, and the next week she said, “Yes, Pastor, I definitely want to join your church.” The pastor realized he hadn’t really communicated clearly enough, so he said, “Mrs. Jones, why don’t you go home and read your Bible very carefully for a month, and then let’s see if you still want to join.” Well, when the month was up, she still wanted to join the church.

“Well, Mrs. Jones,” said the pastor, “We don’t want to make such an important decision too rashly. Suppose you go home a pray about this for a few more days.” So Mrs. Jones went home and prayed about it, and she never came back. A few weeks later the pastor ran into her in the store, and asked her how things were going. “Why just fine,” she said. “You know, I did just what you suggested. I prayed very hard about whether I should join your church. One night as I was praying, the Lord said to me, ‘Don’t worry about not getting into that church; I’ve been trying to get into it myself for twenty years, and I haven’t made it yet!”

St. James begins the second chapter of his letter by admonishing his readers to show no favoritism. Our translation this morning has converted this into a rhetorical question, “Do you, with your acts of favoritism, really believe?” Most translators have preferred to make this an admonition: Brothers and sisters, show no favoritism or partiality as you hold to your faith in Jesus.

That word “partiality” or “favoritism” is the key to this passage. It is, the scholars tell us, a word that the early Christians actually coined—in other words, you don’t find it in classical Greek literature, but it first appears in Christian writings. It is a Christian word, a word Christians made up to talk about a particular sin.

The word literally means “to show the face.” A person shows partiality or favoritism by turning and facing someone, and thereby turning his or her back on someone else. The idea is that one treats one person as better, or more important, than another. In the story I told a moment ago, the pastor shows “partiality” because he treats the woman as someone not worthy of joining his church. In the story James tells, the Christians show “partiality” because they give their attention to a wealthy visitor, while ignoring a poor man.

Now among the Jews, “partiality” was thought to be what God wanted. Their conviction was that God had chosen them, out of all the people of the world, to be saved. Everyone else was out of luck. You sense that in the gospel lesson this morning, where Jesus appears, at least on the surface, to be reluctant to minister to a Gentile woman in need—though of course ultimately he does help her, just as he so freely relates to tax collectors and sinners of all varieties.

It was after Jesus’ resurrection that the apostles began to understand the implications of all this. Maybe you remember the vision that Peter had, when he saw a collection of animals, and a voice from God saying that nothing God created was unclean. Peter understood this to mean that God was now bringing salvation to all the world, not just the Jews. Peter proclaims that “God shows no partiality”—and that story in Acts is the first instance of this peculiar Greek word.

What James says here is an extension of Peter’s understanding. Because God shows no partiality, so we are to show no partiality. Because God welcomes all people into his gracious kingdom, so we are to welcome all people.

Unfortunately, says James, that’s easier said than done. And he gives an example that strikes close to home: Two visitors to church, one well-dressed and obviously wealthy, maybe a VIP of some kind; the other one a nobody, shabby, dirty, “wrong side of the tracks.” Look at how you behave, James says. You treat the rich man like a welcome guest, but ignore the poor man.

Of course this is not a sin that went out of style in the first century; we still put people into categories. When I was a college student one summer I was driving with my friend David in his beat up old car through the state of Virginia. We were pulled over by a highway patrolman, for no apparent reason. Now through a combination of perfectly legal circumstances, David’s papers seemed a little out of order. His driver’s license was from North Carolina, the license plates were from Ohio, but the car registration was from Tennessee, and of course this caused the officer to ask a lot of questions. David explained all the intricacies of his situation—he was in the process of moving from Ohio to Tennessee—but he finally got a little frustrated and made some comment about being hassled. The officer suddenly looked shocked, and said, “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to hassle you,” and he turned and walked away. It was as if he realized suddenly that there really was no reason even to have stopped us; we weren’t speeding, and there was nothing that looked out of order—other than a beat-up car and two college kids whose hair was a little long by 1971 Virginia standards. He had made assumptions about us just because of how we looked.

Well, that’s an unpleasant attitude, but especially in the church of Jesus Christ. This is the point James drives home: there is no excuse for those who know themselves to be saved by God’s grace to show favoritism or partiality or prejudice toward other people.

How about us? Do we do this? If we’re being honest, we have to admit that we still struggle with this. I notice it often, in myself and in others. Just to take the same kind of example James gives: how well really do we welcome visitors in our congregation—especially those who appear to be different? It doesn’t have to be an economic difference; maybe we’re uncomfortable really welcoming families with young children, or single people, or people of a different ethnic background, or people who dress differently. We’re sort of partial, aren’t we, to our friends whom we’ve known for a long time. So maybe to the stranger we say, “Hello, nice to have you here,” but that’s as far as it goes. By our attitudes we say, “We don’t really feel too comfortable with you because you don’t quite fit in to our warm friendly church.”

Well, isn’t it human nature to be friends with some people and not with others? Yes, it is human nature; even Jesus had his disciples to whom he was particularly close. But that closeness, you see, didn’t keep him from loving and ministering to other people who were very different. If a leper or tax collector or Syro-Phoenician woman needed his friendship, he gave it—he never once said, “Well, I’ll go over and talk to that leper, but first I need to get a cup of coffee and chat with Simon Peter because I haven’t seen him since last week.” With Jesus, everyone was welcomed, everyone treated with kindness and care.

There’s an old saying: You can choose your friends, but you cannot choose your family.” Maybe that says something to us as Christians. You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family—and as Christians, your family is the family of Christ. It doesn’t matter if they are rich or poor, black or white, male or female, old or young, strangers or friends. We are called to see each other as brothers and sisters, and to love with a love that accepts and welcomes others even if they’re different, even if they’re new, even if they don’t look and act and think just like us. Maybe we’ve got to stop being so friendly!— to learn that Christian love gets its real test when we are called to love people who aren’t our friends, when we’re called to step out beyond the safe walls of friendship and welcome strangers as sisters and brothers in Christ.

It isn’t easy! Following Jesus rarely is! But keep in mind that we once were strangers, removed from God’s family. God loved us so much that he sent his Son to welcome us into his family; and so now we are to welcome others, no matter who they are or where they come from, or what they wear. Our call, as James tells us, is to “show no partiality as you hold the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory.”