How Quickly We Forget
the Rev. Beth Hoffman Copenhaver
March 23, 2025
Text: James 1:19-25
The short biblical letter attributed to an unknown James has been referenced, as one commentator wrote, the “junk mail in the New Testament.” This is thanks mostly to Martin Luther, the protestant reformer who denounced this book of scripture as an “epistle of straw.” Luther’s concern was that within the words Jesus is rarely named, in fact he is only mentioned twice in five chapters. I think that Luther missed the point about the book of James. James offers instruction on how one ought to live. The author is not trying to evangelize the world but instead offers a challenge to readers to live life centered in the morals and values of Jesus. It does not seek to convert folks to Christianity because the assumption here is that the reader is already a believer in and a follower of, Jesus and therefore familiar with Jesus’ life and teachings. So the purpose of the book of James is to help believers see the implications of Christian faith for individual and communal behavior. In the five chapters that make up this letter, the author discerns the connection between our stated faith and our speech, our economic pursuits and business practices, our experiences of trial, temptation and joy; to the way faith impacts our response to people in need, and how our faith should influence our work of justice as we build life together in community. Have I piqued your interest? Here is a sample from the first chapter:
James 1: 19-25
You must understand this, my beloved siblings: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger, 20 for human anger does not produce God’s righteousness. 21 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.
22 But be doers of the word and not merely hearers who deceive themselves. 23 For if any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in a mirror; 24 for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like. 25 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.
26 If any think they are religious and do not bridle their tongues but deceive their hearts, their religion is worthless. 27 Religion that is pure and undefiled before God is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself unstained by the world.
PRAYER
Much like September 11, 2001, or the space shuttle Challenger explosion, or the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr or JFK, most of us, if we are of a certain age, remember where we were and what was happening for us when life as we knew it ceased in mid-March of 2020. I had been on a brief get away to the North Shore with my daughters, Ellie home from her second year of college on Spring Break which happily coincided with Hannah’s high school break. The North Shore being a favorite place of ours, we were excited to spend some days together outside of our primary environment. When we left on Sunday, March 8th there were only hints of this illness called Covid being something to be concerned about it, and most of the attention was in other countries, but each day we were away the news became more significant, our favorite North Shore spots even more deserted than usual for pre-Spring travel and by the time we returned on Wednesday, March 11th Ellie already knew she wasn’t returning to college in Boston – at least for two weeks. Two weeks turned into 11 months. By the end of that week the world was beginning its shut down. Here at the church, we were holding off until the last moment as Sunday, March 15th there was to have been a congregational meeting convened to call Seth Patterson as Plymouth minister, anticipating his ordination just weeks later. But on Saturday, March 14th, following executive orders and aligning with all the other downtown churches, we canceled in person worship services here and instead offered a recorded format… again, thinking it would only be for a very short time. Using creativity beyond our imagining and technology outside of our knowledge we, collectively, leapt into a new way of doing EVERYTHING. School, work, shopping, and certainly church all took on different identities as we grappled with Zoom and home offices and recording worship and making sure people had connection (both via the internet and relationally) and how we would get necessary health care and be together with the people we love while FEAR permeated everything. Suddenly phrases like “social distancing”, “shut down”, “quarantine”, “essential and non-essential workers” were a part of our vocabulary all while trying to understand this thing called Covid-19.
Here at Plymouth, we did not enjoy in person worship for 15 months, finally gathering outside in the summer of 2021 under the “Big Top” – remember the tent? Meetings were all held virtually, our dedicated Covid team met weekly and sometimes more often to determine protocol regarding everything from memorial services to how to safely host outside events to how to manage staff and parishioner illness to where it was safe for musicians to stand when we recorded worship. Weekly I sent you messages in which I tried to infuse hope and perseverance all while having to disappoint folks again and again over what it was not yet safe to do together. In one of the biggest volunteer efforts ever we launched “The Great Plymouth Check In” just shortly after the pandemic began and hundreds of you called (using an actual phone) hundreds of others as a way to remind each other of God’s care and keeping and that everyone was essential at Plymouth Church.
I heard from so many of you and witnessed it in person, the overwhelming emotion of entering this building for the first time in months, maybe years as we slowly began to open our doors again. The surprise of tears that filled your eyes as you crossed the threshold and relished the spaces that had brought you meaning and marked so many poignant milestones. I also recall all the pledges we made about what we would no longer take for granted: getting together with extended family for holidays or a simple Sunday supper, the joy of colleagues together in a shared space, singing with exuberance without a facemask, the mundane yet missed meetings in the Fireside Room, the ease with which we used to do errands, eat out, grocery shop, the joy of travel, the ability and opportunity to gather for weddings, for theatre and other arts events, for worship, for being able to be at the bedside of a loved one who was ill or dying. The lessons of the pandemic were mighty, the yearning for “normal” was fierce, and we vowed we would emerge from that liminal time changed, different, transformed. Because, it seems, it is all about relationship and we were desperate for it.
How are we doing with our promises? It’s been five years since the onset of the pandemic, which the World Health Organization declared an end to in May, 2023. Yet the virus continues its havoc. There have been over 7 million recorded deaths worldwide due to complications of Covid-19, according to WHO. And I know so many of you have lost loved ones to the dreaded illness while also carrying the physical and emotional ramifications from conditions like “long Covid syndrome”. While the pandemic may have officially ended some 22 months ago we are still discerning what it means to be in community together. We haven’t yet determined just want the post pandemic world should be. And this is especially true in the church… at Plymouth.
22 But be doers of the word and not merely hearers who deceive themselves. 23 For if any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in a mirror; 24 for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like.
For James, the test of genuine faith is not orthodoxy (right belief) but orthopraxy (right practice). Christians are to be engaged in the world, and they are to hold a different understanding of reality and a different set of values, informed by their experience of the grace of God through Jesus Christ. The book of James challenges us to be persons of integrity – that is, people who are consistent in all we see, say, believe and do. James holds up a mirror so that we can reflect on whether or not our actions betray what we know in our heads. James professes that our faith is what calls us to act and our actions should be specifically focused on the needs of others. James provides the strongest castigation of discrimination in the New Testament – that is any discrimination based on outer appearance. How we practice love towards all people will reveal whether we have allowed the grace and power of God to produce a transformation in our lives.
James’ words speak to me in this post pandemic place we find ourselves in. I remember one week, years ago, as we recorded worship we lit candles, each one representing 1,000 deaths when the death toll in the US reached what we thought then was a staggering number of a couple of hundred thousand. I regret now we did not honor and call attention to the tragic milestones of millions more who sacrificed their lives to the virus and that with all the attention this five-year anniversary is receiving, little is being done to lament the multitudes of lives lost. Have we forgotten? What has happened to the promises we made regarding the importance of family, the significance of kindness, the crucial need for connection, the emotional response to gathering in this space to embrace God’s love together? Have we forgotten? As we move through the discombobulating destruction of democracy do we recall how lonely so many of us felt during the long months of shut down and isolation, vowing to not take for granted the companionship of another. Now numerous people face a loss of safety and security. Have we forgotten? As Plymouth endures a season of radical transition and change of leadership and grief over departures have we forgotten how much we mean to each other and how vital the person is in the pew next to us in sustaining the power of beloved community? James’ words call us to listen to each other, to speak words careful and kind, to no longer rely on anger to get our way, to remember that God knows and names us and invites us to lean hard upon our faith as we live and move in the world. Let us recall the promises made through the pandemic, serving one another with the persistence of hope and the power of love. Let us not forget.
On April 19, 2020, I preached a sermon entitled “Healing in a Time of Pandemic.” We had no idea then that we were only just beginning an unprecedented time. I offer you the closing words again, exchanging the word healing for remembering:
“Our liminal time of distance and isolation will change us, because remembering changes us. We are on a threshold of something new, something yet to be determined, not something to fear but to anticipate with hope. And we prepare by participating in our own remembering. So perhaps remembering a time of pandemic means practicing forgiveness, letting go of a grudge, examining and repairing a fractured relationship, finding new endeavors that bring joy, embracing what is most important, releasing expectations and the weight of self-imposed judgment. Perhaps remembering a time of pandemic means fostering creative energy in unimagined ways, spending time in spiritual practice and in the solace of prayer, and paying close attention to the holiness of our own breath. Perhaps remembering a time of pandemic will gentle us and we will re-enter the world more aware of the earth’s gifts and our power to protect her. Perhaps remembering a time of pandemic will soften our hard edges and remind us how much we really need each other. Perhaps remembering a time of pandemic will help us to finally become comfortable in our own skin, embrace our unique gifts, and love ourselves as much as God loves us.”
Perhaps remembering a time of pandemic is exactly what we must do to be the community we long to be.
Amen.
