Showing My Work

I used to love it when teachers would give me partial credit on things for showing my work.  The theory behind it is sound, because it's not always about getting the right answer, often it is about learning the process and being able to see exactly where you go wrong.  The best teachers are good at showing you where you messed up, and the worst teachers are the ones that just tell you you're wrong, maybe in a way that seems less than constructive, and leave you hanging out there in your wrongness.
Anyway, I'm preaching on the lectionary text from James this week (James 3: 1-12, if you're a dutiful reader and want to know).  I don't remember doing too many sermons from James in the past, though I'm sure I've done a few.  One reason for the choice is that I feel like I just did the one about Peter telling Jesus he was the Messiah.  Another reason is that I think I may have neglected James, I mean aside from the fact that I just walked the Camino de Santiago (The Way of Saint James). I think I usually look at the letter of James as the one that makes Paul look less cranky by comparison.  Don't get me wrong, James has some good things to say, it's just the tone... let's just say it's a little hard to take sometimes.
When he starts by talking about teachers and how they're going to be judged with greater strictness, I start to get nervous, the same way I do when Jesus starts slamming the priests and pharisees.  Because he's talking about me, in way that's rather more specific than I would generally prefer from someone who uses the word iniquity and fires of hell, so blithely.  But I take the critique with great seriousness, because I do believe that what he says about teachers and leaders is very true, they do tend to shape their students and their followers, and that can be good and that can be bad, depending on the teacher or leader.
It's a terrifying reality that leaderless groups tend to go all Lord of the Flies in a big hurry.  And this includes groups that are lead by people who are not willing to do anything that sacrifices their popularity and likeability (also known as pandering to the base).  A good leader, or parent or teacher, is a balance of being loved and respected and being responsible.  If everyone likes everything you do, you are probably not leading, you're just following the whims of the crowd and calling it your idea.
Edwin Friedman, aka the Yoda of family systems theory, wrote a book called Failure of Nerve that can be applied to the current mindset of leaders in various arenas of the modern world.  He talks about the ways in which a leader can and should make changes in the behavior of the system, and he talks about the inevitable forms of resistance they encounter, and how "nerve" or courage or resolution is the only way to overcome said resistance.  I find myself thinking, talking and writing about this book and the ideas therein an awful lot, because it's like a diagnosis of an epidemic disease that I very well might have.
I think James has the same quality.  The Epistle of James diagnoses diseases to which our communities of faith are particularly vulnerable.  Such as making distinctions between "the right kind of people," and others usually based on dollar signs (see chapter 2). Oh and talking a good game about Jesus and all, but not really acting at all like he wanted us to act: "faith without works is dead," is perhaps the most famous quote in all of James.
This little ramble is sort of like a deleted scene from my sermon on Sunday.  (As hard as it is to believe, there are indeed things I choose not to say in a sermon).
Maybe this is me trying to get the log out of my own eye.  Because what I'm fixing to say on Sunday is that we have become too mean and nasty to really show the love of Christ with the world.  We're just entirely too homed in on "defending the faith," and the violence and vigilance that that requires has made us cranky.  My focus on Sunday is going to be: "From the same mouth come blessing and cursing.  My brothers and sisters this ought not to be so."  This is part confession and part hope that somehow or other we can turn this ship away from the waters of anger, fear and bitterness, before we crash ourselves on the rocks.