On What Christianity Requires of Us
September 1, 2024
Traceymay Kalvaitis
Psalm 15
O Lord, who may abide in your tent? Who may dwell on your holy hill? Those who walk blamelessly and do what is right and speak the truth from their heart; who do not slander with their tongue and do no evil to their friends nor heap shame upon their neighbors; in whose eyes the wicked are despised but who honor those who fear the LORD; who stand by their oath even to their hurt; who do not lend money at interest and do not take a bribe against the innocent. Those who do these things shall never be moved.
James 1:17-27
You must understand this, my beloved brothers and sisters: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger, for human anger does not produce God’s righteousness. Therefore rid yourselves of all sordidness and rank growth of wickedness, and welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls. But be doers of the word and not merely hearers who deceive themselves. For if any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in a mirror; for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like. But those who look into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and persevere, being not hearers who forget but doers who act—they will be blessed in their doing. If any think they are religious and do not bridle their tongues but deceive their hearts, their religion is worthless. Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself unstained by the world.
Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23
Now when the Pharisees and some of the scribes who had come from Jerusalem gathered around him, they noticed that some of his disciples were eating with defiled hands, that is, without washing them. So the Pharisees and the scribes asked him, “Why do your disciples not walk according to the tradition of the elders but eat with defiled hands?” He said to them, “Isaiah prophesied rightly about you hypocrites, as it is written, ‘This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching human precepts as doctrines.’ You abandon the commandment of God and hold to human tradition.” Then he called the crowd again and said to them, “Listen to me, all of you, and understand: there is nothing outside a person that by going in can defile, but the things that come out are what defile.”
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Today’s sermon is titled On What Christianity Requires of Us. For the past four weeks I have been mostly traveling to places both familiar and unfamiliar. I try to always begin my month’s vacation with a camping trip; this year that trip was along the Sawyer river, near Crawford Notch, in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Then I hopped on an airplane with my youngest daughter and flew to my hometown of Durham, North Carolina, where we purchased her first car and then drove it back up the east coast. My daughter returned to work at the Friendly Farm and I went north to go camping by myself for the first time in over 20 years. Technically, I was not alone; I took along our goldendoodle, Vivianne, and she was a real comfort, sleeping outside my tent door night after night.
My family and I are seasoned backcountry campers. I estimate we have spent over a thousand nights in tents, mostly in Hawai’i, but also along the west coast in Oregon, Washington, Canada, Alaska and in the New England states of New Hampshire and Maine. Only twice did we stay in a developed campground. We had the safety of numbers so we sought out the peace and quiet of the wilderness. But traveling solo this summer, without the safety of numbers, I sought out campgrounds where I could bring my dog and pitch my tent, hopefully not sandwiched between RVs running their generators.
Now, I will confess to you that I have long held a preconceived notion about campground campers. I have not considered myself as one of “them.” But this summer, as I explored the new contours of a more solo existence, I realized that for my own peace of mind, I needed “them” so I became one of them. The very first night, camping in a state park by the sea in Freeport, Maine, I learned a valuable lesson.
As soon as I pulled up in my car, I assessed the situation I was pulling into. To my right, the campsite was empty. To my left were two RVs sharing one campsite. They had lights strung up, candles on the picnic tables, and even two chainsaw carvings of bear cubs positioned as if they were looking out to sea. There were four people sitting in lawn chairs over there and as soon as I got out of the car, I figured I should speak to them and get off on the right foot since we were to be neighbors for the next 24 hours. They were friendly and I was relieved. I went about the chores of setting up camp as the sun went down and things really revved up next door. People started coming from all over the campground to gather around my neighbor’s fire and under their lights. I had seen on the campground rules that 10 o’clock was the beginning of quiet time. 10 o’clock is pretty late for me, so I made sure to be all set and bedded down for the night at 9:30, even though my neighbors seemed like they were just getting started. 10 o’clock came and went. 10:30 came and went. I wondered what to do; I began to practice what I could say to them and how I should say it. I could just holler from my tent and ask them to please quiet down. But, no… that might make them angry; I imagined them letting the air out of my tires while I slept. I was really glad I had spoken to them earlier, because when 11 o’clock rolled around, I crawled out of my tent and went over there. As soon as they saw me on the edge of the circle of firelight, a woman said, “Oh! I bet we are being too loud.”
“You’re actually not that loud, but since I’m sleeping in a tent, I might as well be sleeping here on one of your picnic tables. If you would lower your voices just a little bit, I’m sure I could get to sleep.”
Another woman said, “You can sleep on our picnic table if you want to.”
“No thanks,” I said, “I like my spot over there.”
The same woman asked, with a bit of sass this time, “You want us to put on some sleepy music for you?”
“I think the crickets and the sound of the waves will do the trick.”
“We will quiet down,” the first woman said.
I said, “I really appreciate it. Good night.”
They did quiet down, a lot, and within 15 min they dispersed and I fell quickly asleep. The next morning, after I had been up for hours already, I made a point of saying good morning to them when they emerged, hoping there were no hard feelings. I said goodbye as I was leaving and I drove out of there with a very good feeling.
This is a simple story to illustrate the profound lesson found in all three of our scripture readings for today. If we can control what comes out of our mouths, if we can use our words wisely, compassionately, and authentically, we become what Father Richard Rohr calls, “participants in experiential religion.”*
Millennia ago, experiential religion was the norm. In fact, there was a great shift in the culture of humankind that occurred simultaneously, across most continents. The time period, now known as the Axial Age, began about 2,800 years ago. Here is what encyclopedia Brittanica says about it: “The Axial Age is the period when, roughly at the same time around most of the inhabited world, the great intellectual, philosophical, and religious systems that came to shape subsequent human society and culture emerged—with the ancient Greek philosophers, Indian metaphysicians and logicians (who articulated the great traditions of Hinduism, Buddhism, and Jainism), Persian Zoroastrianism, the Hebrew Prophets, the “Hundred Schools” of ancient China(most notably Confucianism and Daoism) ….These are only some of the representative Axial traditions that emerged and took root during that time. The phrase originated with the German philosopher Karl Jaspers, who noted that during this period there was a shift—or a turn, as if on an axis.”** This shift, this turn, was made possible by enough people, the world over, having their basic needs met so they could begin to think about the ways that their society as a whole could be uplifted and improved.
Friends, I believe we are participants in a similar kind of seismic shift. We are participants in the realization of Christianity as Jesus intended it; I tell you it has not yet been realized. So take with you the words lifted up from the ancient texts this morning. From the psalmist in the Axial age, who asked, “Who may dwell on God’s holy hill? Those who walk blamelessly and do what is right and speak the truth from their heart; who do not slander with their tongue and do no evil to their friends nor heap shame upon their neighbors.”
Words from the disciple James, “Those who look into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and persevere, being not hearers who forget but doers who act—they will be blessed in their doing. If any think they are religious and do not bridle their tongues but deceive their hearts, their religion is worthless.” James also speaks to the intentionality required in choosing our words. He writes of “the implanted word that has the power to save your souls.”
And from our teacher, Jesus of Nazareth, who reminds us, “There is nothing outside a person that by going in can defile, but the things that come out are what defile.”
Let us not underestimate the power of what comes from our mouths, the words we speak and how they affect us and all those within earshot. Let us not underestimate the testimony of our actions as we move through the world. We are participants in an evolving, experiential religion that calls us to mind our words and to take action, to do something, as James says, to consider the wellbeing of all, not just some.
In closing, I remind us that much of the success or failure of our work as Christians, in this pluralistic society, and in this great experiment of democracy, will largely depend on how we, as individuals, can carefully, compassionately and authentically build bridges with our neighbors. We are invited today to be participants in this experiential religion we call Christianity. We are invited, through our words and our actions, to reflect the light and love of Christ to all people, not just those with whom we are familiar or comfortable or aligned with. Let’s be careful how we talk about one another, especially those we think of as “others.” Members of the “other” political party, people from “other” countries, people who root for the “other” team…these are all distinctions that lead to divisions. Let’s be careful with our words. Jesus says so.
* Father Richard Rohr lecture from Boston College titled “The Christian Meaning of Enlightenment” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fc2VfwrGr8g
**https://www.britannica.com/list/the-axial-age-5-fast-facts
Pastoral Prayer Gracious God, source of balance, draw us in by your Spirit of peace, your Spirit of love and your unconditional acceptance. For when we feel accepted, loved, and at peace, our fullness can overflow into the lives of others. In our fullness, our words are not self-serving and self-aggrandizing, in our fullness, our words become messages of encouragement and edification as you speak through us. In our fullness, our minds can think beyond ourselves and offer mental energy to the plethora of issues that plague our larger world family. Help us, Lord, to care for ourselves in healthy ways that fill us, whatever those ways may be. We thank you for the gift of our bodies, our minds, and our spirits. In ways we are suffering, guide us to access strength greater than our own. When we sense distance from you, remind us that you are only a prayer away. This we pray in Christ’s name. Amen.
Benediction I leave you with these words from Second Thessalonians, chapter 3: “May the Lord of Peace himself give you everlasting peace in every place.”