The Grace of Accountability--February 9, 2022

The Grace of Accountability--February 9, 2022

"Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers and sisters, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness." [James 3:1]

I don't know whether to be comforted or terrified by these words.  Probably both at the same time is where I need to land.

The terrifying part is probably obvious.  I mean, here I am, local "religious professional" person, whose paid employment heavily involves teaching others and daring to make claims about who God is and what God is like, how we relate to God and one another, and what sort of life God is shaping us into.  In sermons and Bible studies, confirmation classes, Sunday School lessons, children's sermons, devotions, podcasts and videos, and a host of other ways, I and others who are pastors, teachers, and leaders dare to presume we have something worth saying--and worth hearing--about God and us.  That is downright audacious, if you think about it.

And I do.  James makes me think about it.  James reminds me that the stakes are high for any teacher, since teachers are given the task of helping learners to grow.  Whether it's learning to read or how to add, learning to think critically and communicate, learning a skill or a trade, or learning a faith tradition, good teaching makes a powerful impact--and bad teaching causes terrible problems.  The controversies that erupt into the news over some local school board wanting to ban this or that book, or whatever the latest paranoia is about some current in education, they all remind us that the stakes are high when it comes to teaching anything--at least if we think that learning matters.  What gets taught, and how it is taught... whose stories get told, and who gets to tell them... what things are acknowledged out loud, and what things are swept under rugs... what is presented as certain and solid, and what is held up alongside numerous alternatives--these are all important questions about how communities and societies teach everything from literature and history to science and civics.

It is all the more dangerous a thing to dare to be in a position to teach others about the Mystery we call "God."  Unlike a butterfly you can pin in a box or a frog you can cut open in high school biology class, the divine cannot be dissected and mounted for display.  Unlike a higher level of mathematics about which one can plausibly say, "But I'll never really use this," claims about God shape how we live, how we think, and how we act.  Unlike some minute and specific field of study like the textile economy of 17th century Bavaria or painters of the Spanish Renaissance, God as a "subject" is always impossibly bigger and wider than we can ever possibly master, and touches on every piece of our lives. So, yes, claiming to have the authority (and audacity) to teach someone else about God is one of those places where "fools rush in" and "angels fear to tread."  

It matters what we teach and believe about God, because the shape of our faith becomes the lens through which we see the rest of the world.  Even a cursory ready of history reveals how often terrible things are done in the name of the God (or god) we believe in, convinced that these terrible things are not deplorable, but fit with the nature of that god. And by contrast, sometimes people dare courageous and beautiful things because they are driven by the compelling beauty of God's grace that makes them brave enough to be grace-full as well. Quite simply, the stakes are precariously high when daring to teach about God and God's ways. 

So reading this verse fills me, a local Religious Professional who spends a chunk of his time attempting to have something worth saying about God, with a fair amount of fear and trembling. And yet, I can respect James' point--because the stakes are so high and so much terrible damage can be done to our souls by bad theology, or a faith co-opted by the empire, or the partnering of religion with prejudice, discrimination, and bigotry, we need teachers to be held to a higher standard.  Because of the power imbalance between a teacher and any student, we need teachers to be accountable not to abuse their positions.  I am grateful, as much as I am fearful, that the writers of the New Testament don't take that calling lightly.  And I am glad that James doesn't shrug off bad theology as mostly harmless (even if bad theology sells more books and is more useful to unscrupulous politicians).  

But maybe even more than that, I am comforted, too, to think that James cares about those who are most at risk from bad teaching and careless teachers.  It's a beautiful thing, once again, to see James show that the Christian faith is meant to be oriented around the needs of those who are most endangered, most on the margins, and most susceptible to harm, rather than giving the powerful free rein to do whatever they like (in the name of preserving their "freedom").  I am grateful that James would rather look out for those who can be harmed by bad theology than let the teachers of such bad theology off the hook... even if that makes me squirm as someone who teaches about God and would like to think I am right in what I have to say. Reading James keeps me on my toes.  Reading James holds me accountable.  Reading James makes me see that I do not have the right to be sloppy or arrogant in my own thinking, living, and teaching of the gospel--but also that I need to be humble enough to listen to others who will correct me, open my eyes to new realizations, and broaden my perspective.  If the price for that kind of honesty and integrity in those who dare to speak about the Mystery is that teachers and preachers need to be more self-critical and reflective before declaring "Thus sayeth the Lord" over their words, that seems a worthwhile trade.

It is always good news, honestly, to know that God is looking out for the people who are most vulnerable, even when it means that those with more power, position, or privilege are held to greater accountability than they were used to as a result.  

So even though this verse holds me accountable, I am grateful it is here... for all our sakes.

Lord God, help us to speak, think, and act in ways that align with who you are.  Let our lives be shaped in the likeness of your love.