What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith
but does not have works? Surely that faith cannot save, can it?
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.
(James 2:14-17)

For many of us, the church has been a sacred space that affirms our being created in the image of a God who loves us. It has been a place where we sing in joy and celebrate the Lord’s Supper – a literal sanctuary if you will, that compels and equips us for the six days that follow. The tapestry of those days between our gatherings are often woven with threads of employment challenges, illness, rejection, broken relationships, health care needs, political unrest, “isms” of all kinds – and the list goes on. It is a list that requires an attentiveness to our souls in the in-between times – where the spiritual practices of prayer, reading scripture, basking in the beauty of nature or the sounds of music – can hold us together until we meet again.

The gathered church – the ecclesia – offers us a reminder of who we are because of whose we are. The gathered community of faith serves as a marker of our Christ-like identity – an identity of hope where we care and love because God first cared and loved us – becoming one of us, showing us a new humanity in the person of Jesus. It is an identity grounded in what Jesus modeled for us during his time on this earth – a living witness of conviction framed by love, mercy and justice.

As Presbyterian Christians, we are grateful for our theological understanding that we are saved by grace through faith in Christ Jesus, and not by our own efforts or works (Ephesians 2:8-9). We understand that we can’t buy our way into God’s heart. This understanding opens our hearts to the abundance we’ve been granted. What an extraordinary gift! But like many of our gifts and strengths, there can also be a shadow side. There can be a misunderstanding of how we are called to lean into this gift of abundant grace.

While the Apostle Paul (in Ephesians) is concerned with how we are brought back to right relationship with the creator God, the writer of James is concerned with how that faith is reflected and experienced in our daily lives. The epistle of James is addressing the temptation of our faith communities becoming insulated, unwilling or unable to consider the needs of those right outside the door. We can become tempted to think highly of ourselves and the excellence of our programs, disregarding the cries and sounds of the pain and injustice around us. The writer of James is not subtle in his choice of words – he calls this embodiment of faith as being dead – without any life. It’s the kind of faith that becomes comfortable in our practices and gatherings; with our music and rituals – while disassociating ourselves from our neighbor in the world.

As we begin another journey around the sun – launching a new program year with all its possibilities, I invite you to consider how we are to embody our faith in the world at this moment today. I call our attention to the next few months as our nation prepares for another presidential election that by all accounts, will not be without complications. The landscape is already littered with hyperbole, rhetoric, language of hate that can easily fuel violence.

I invite us to let our faith be embodied – not by our preferred personal vote (which I encourage us all to do) – but by our refusal to participate and/or encourage a “cultural norm” that vilifies anyone with whom we disagree. I encourage us to not let our personal views be the cause of losing valued relationships.

I invite us – the church – to model for the world – what it means to have disagreements while honoring and cherishing one another. If we in the church, do not model this kind of faithful and generous witness, who will? My siblings, this is not an easy task – but ours was never meant to be an easy journey. It is to be a journey of faith, but as the Epistle of James reminds us “…faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.”

May our faith be reflected in the works of our daily lives – a delicate dance of concrete demonstrations of what we claim to believe – a people of resurrection hope – embodying mercy, love and justice for all of God’s creation.