Trinity Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)

Sermons 

Title: "Hearing in Vain?"

Text: James 1:17-27

make an interesting pair, don’t they?

In the gospel lesson,

Jesus opens the ears of a man born deaf …

But in the epistle reading,

James has told us that hearing ears don’t do any good

unless we’re also doers.

The marvelous gift

apparently comes with strings attached.

As if … well, in your childhood days,

did you ever get money for a birthday present,

but then you were told what you had to spend it for?

Didn’t seem like quite such a fun gift, then, did it?

Better than no gift at all, to be sure,

but not like having the freedom to do whatever you wanted

with the gift you received.

These two scriptures, viewed side by side,

may seem to suggest

that God’s giving is somehow like that.

Here we have this marvelous gift of hearing,

whether we were born with it

or acquired it some time later …

and God seems to say to us,

okay now, you’d better use it like I want, or else.

Fortunately, I guess we’d have to say,

it’s just not quite that simple.

Try thinking of it like this:

Just as hearing is a gift,

whether we think about it that way or not,

so, also, faith is a gift.

Most of us were fortunate enough to be born hearing,

so it may seem to us to be "standard equipment,"

something we’re entitled to.

Indeed, if and when the time comes in life

that our hearing starts to fail,

it frustrates and angers us,

because it’s something we have been able to take for granted.

We forget that it, along with all of life, is a gift.

Frequently, though, we only recognize it as a gift

when something miraculous or close to it

draws our attention to it.

Similarly, many of us were "born with" faith,

or at least, we have no memory of a time

when we were without it.

Even if we came to faith later in life, as adults,

still, we tend to understand it as something we have achieved,

a certain something we possess and own.

We forget that it, too, is a gift from God.

To be sure, we have the choice of

receiving the gift, or refusing it.

But faith is a gift.

It does not come from our own efforts.

But, how do we get around this perception

that it is a gift with strings attached?

This idea we sometimes get,

that the Bible sometimes seems to give us,

that God is going to give us this gift

but then lay all these heavy duties on us

that we might really not want?!

Because, I think,

that’s where many of us get stuck.

We’re a little afraid to receive the gift too enthusiastically,

for fear of what may come next.

"If I say yes,

God might decide to send me off into the jungles

as a missionary!"

"If I accept the gift of faith,

God might ask me to sell all that I have

and give it to the poor,

and then go live under a bridge with them."

Many of us, it seems to me, have an underlying suspicion

that God can just hardly wait

to spring something outrageous on us as a kind of test,

to see how we are going to respond!

Well, maybe …

But maybe we need to shift our perspective a little.

Consider for a moment:

When someone you care about gives you a gift,

don’t you want to respond?

Whether it’s to hug the person,

or send a thank-you note,

or give a gift in return?

It’s not that you necessarily feel obligated to do so,

though you might;

it’s more that you just sort of want to.

And likewise, if you give someone a gift

and they don’t respond,

doesn’t it make you worry, or wonder?

Maybe the post office lost it?

Maybe she didn’t like it?

Maybe he doesn’t like me?

When God gives us the gift of faith,

if we have truly received it,

we will want to respond.

Not out of obligation,

but out of gratitude and joy.

And so when James talks about

being doers of the word and not just hearers …

we have to understand that doing is our grateful response to a gift,

not an obligation laid on us by God.

Faith is a free gift,

with no response demanded.

Just as, when we give a gift to one we love,

we don’t do it thinking,

"Oh good, now they’ll have to do something nice for me."

And yet, unless there is some kind of response,

we know the gift hasn’t truly been received and understood.

So James, even though he sounds harsh,

isn’t really implying that we’re all

bad nasty hypocritical finks.
He’s making a simple statement of fact.

You might even put it in the

category of "sad, but true."

If you’re not doing the word,

you haven’t really heard it yet.

You may have been in the same room

where it was spoken many times.

You may have thought you heard it quite clearly.

You may have thought you understood it quite well.

But if you aren’t doing the word,

then you are mistaken.

Not bad, not necessarily even a hypocrite,

just in need of greater understanding.

James gives a couple of examples

that must have been real issues in his community,

because he mentions them in other parts of the letter as well.

The first one probably indicts us

just as surely as it did James’s readers:

"If any think they are religious,

and do not bridle their tongues …

their religion is worthless."

How many of us have never ever said something

we wish we could take back?

Who among us has never been guilty of

"speak now, think later"?

Or never lashed out with angry words?

Have we really yet heard?

James also talks about

visiting the widows and orphans in their affliction,

which is a way of saying that

we need to help care for those

who don’t have the resources to care for themselves completely.

Now that’s an obligation we understand …

And most of us do things along those lines.

But we also know of opportunities we’ve missed,

needs we have avoided,

times when we have treated ourselves to luxuries

even though we know that many are without necessities.

Have we really heard?

James won’t let us off the hook.

He won’t let us – or anyone – get away with

just going through the motions.

James might say to twenty-first century Christians

something like this:

It’s all very nice that you attend church every Sunday.

But if that makes no impact on

how you live Monday through Saturday,

you hearing has been in vain.

It’s helpful that you put money in the offering plate

to sustain your church’s ministry and mission.

But if that has had no effect on

how you spend the rest of your money,

your hearing has been in vain.

It’s good for you to attend a Sunday school class,

and to read the Bible on your own.

But if that makes no difference in

how you treat your family and your friends,

and even your enemies,

your hearing has been in vain.

Not because God somehow

obligates us to do these things,

or to do them differently …

But because a real encounter with God and the gift of faith

cannot help but transform us,

and everything about us.

Most of us, of course,

are somewhere in process.

We’ve heard some things very clearly,

and have responded,

and have been blessed in our doing.

But there are other aspects of God’s word

that we have been deaf to,

just as surely as if we were

that poor gentleman born deaf in the gospel story.

The good news is that Christ can heal us

from our hearing disabilities as well …

if we are willing.

What do you think?

Shall we open our ears

to the whole gospel?

Will we receive the gift that God offers

in its entirety?

Or will we hear in vain?

God has lots to say,

as soon as we’re ready.

May we have the grace and courage to hear.

Amen.