A Camino Question

“A Camino Question”

 

Rev. Stephen Milton
Lawrence Park Community Church
September 8th, 2024

James 2:1–17

 

A few weeks ago, I was in France and Spain walking the Camino pilgrimage. My wife and I were walking the French route. We walked over the Pyrennes mountains, and into Spain. My plan was stop about halfway, and then come home for a few weeks before starting back at church. Amanda would carry on reaching the goal of the pilgrimage, the Santiago cathedral in Western Spain, a walk of 780 kilometers. 

Picture: Amanda at Santiago

Here she is at the cathedral in Santiago. It is named for Saint James, the apostle who wrote today’s scripture reading. It is believed that his bones were moved here, so they built a church on top of his resting place. 

Picture: Camino Knapsacks

Each day, we walked 20 to 30 kilometers, carrying packs on our backs containing everything we neede

Picture: Camino arrow
The Camino is a well-marked trail, with yellow arrows pointing the way along streets, through farmer’s fields, and over mountains and hills. 

There were lots and lots of hills, especially in the first week or so. We would walk for five or six hours, taking breaks along the way to rest our aching shoulders and feet. And to eat. You burn a lot of calories doing this. 

Each night, we stayed in city-run hostels. They were usually just a room or two full of bunk beds. We’d sleep next to other pilgrims. And yes, this does mean listening to other people snore. We bought earplugs. It was fine. There are also hotels along the way, and some people, often the older ones, elected to get a room of their own each night.

Over the first week, we slowly got to know a group of young people who all walked at the same pace as us. We saw them each night at the same hostels, and we started cooking meals together. We shared advice, and bandages for blisters. We got to know each other walking together. If someone asked me what I did for a living, I told them that I am a minister. It became clear that few of the pilgrims were church goers. Most Europeans are secular now, even more so than here. That was reflected on the Camino trail, too.

But that didn’t stop people from asking spiritual questions. One day, as we were walking along a dusty road in a farmer’s field, one of the pilgrims asked me a question that had been bugging him. He said that he knows lots of people who never go to church, who wouldn’t call themselves religious, but who do good works all the time. They help other people, just like church says they should. So, he asked me, why should people bother going to church if they can just do good deeds on their own? What’s the difference between a church person who is nice to others and helpful, and someone who does the same good and doesn’t go to church?

We all know people who are kind and loving, who never set foot inside a church, mosque, or temple. Some people seem to be born with big hearts, which extend not just to their friends and family, but to strangers, too. They feel a sense of compassion for others, and they act on it. And they make the world a better place. So, as my pilgrim friend asked, why should they bother going to church?

In our tradition, we often quote a line from the apostle John’s first letter, where he famously declares that God is love (1 John 4:7-8). God made the universe as an expression of love. God cares for plants and animals, making sure they get fed and can live well, as an act of love. As Jesus says, God keeps track of every sparrow (Luke 12:6). We humans were made in that web of love. We are born with a capacity to feel love and to share it. This comes naturally in our love for family and friends. As Christians, we believe that wherever love is, God is.

So, when a non-religious person shovels their neighbour’s walk without being asked; or gives money to someone in need; or stands up for the rights of the oppressed; whenever they feel love and act on it for someone else’s sake, that loving act is God in action. Wherever love is, God is. Whether they know it or not, that love they feel is God being present in them. For that reason, we should be grateful for every loving act in the world, done by people of other faiths and no faith. They have brought God’s love into the world more fully than before. And that’s wonderful.

But we all know that there are times in life when we don’t feel like being loving toward others. Life gets busy, we have things to do, we may be stressed, we may have no time. We need to look out for ourselves. To survive. In those times, which come often, we may not be feeling the love God gave us to share. We pass the beggar on the street without giving them money. We put on blinders to other people’s pain, just to get us through the day. Everyone does this, religious and secular alike. 

The difference is that church goers are reminded every Sunday that we are still part of God’s big world, and we are asked to help. Every Sunday, we are reminded that we are part of a huge, loving, caring cosmos that God has created and is still creating. We are called to be like God, to care for others, even when we don’t feel like it. 

There’s nothing new about this situation. In today’s scripture reading, we hear from the Apostle James. In his day, there were no church buildings like this. The Jesus movement met in normal houses, gathered around a table to eat, and pray together. Everybody was expected to bring food. They would eat, tell stories of Jesus, sing, and pray.[1] It was much more informal than what we do now. And back then, Christianity was unusual because it attracted people of all ethnic groups, all ages, and all layers of society. Some rich people were drawn to this faith about a man who was killed and resurrected preaching love. But most of the early converts were poor, including enslaved people. Yet they all met at the same dinner table. As equals. Christians were invited to open their hearts, to feel an equal love for everyone, rich or poor, male, or female, slave or free.

But James tells his readers that there was a gulf between theory and practice. What he saw was that when rich people showed up, there were given the best seats at the table. When poor people arrived, they were told sit at someone’s feet, or away from the table. The Christians who were ranking these believers were doing “what felt right” to them.  They lived in a society where rich people were given all the honours. But James reminds them that these same rich people often dragged people to court to sue them for what they owed. In Christ’s house, James reminds them, the rich are not more important than the poor. In Christ’s house, we are all equal, equally loved, and should be treated that way. 

James can see that even among these followers of Jesus, old habits die hard. He reminds them that Christians are called to do better than just what we feel like doing. We have been told to follow Jesus’ command to love our neighbour. He wishes that this could come naturally, just to flow out of us as spontaneous love. But James can see that it doesn’t always work that way. We need to be reminded to be loving even when we don’t feel like it. He says that this isn’t like following a bunch of rules or laws. Instead, he calls it the law of liberty – a way of living that liberates us from our old ways and puts us in line with our true nature. That true nature is from God, and it is to be loving. In being kind to our neighbour, we awaken our deepest self, which is made in love, and it gets to take over for a while, setting us free. James is suggesting that being loving is not just good for other people, but good for us, too. It is a win-win situation.

That may seem like a stretch. Afterall, coming to church can feel like a chore, and so can doing good deeds for others. It does feel easier to not bother sometimes, and for some people, sometimes is most of the time. 

In addition to walking the Camino this summer, I also spent some time researching the mind-body connection. And along the way, I came across some surprising research. It was about how church affects the health of congregants. 

In studies all over the world, science has found that going to church has a positive effect on those who attend. There’s something about being in a church community which is good for us. Studies have found that church goers get divorced less, commit suicide less, and even smoke less.[2]

People who attend church for many years are less likely to get depressed than people who don’t go to church.[3] Middle Aged people who attend church are less likely to die in a ten year period, or suffer from stress compared to people who don’t attend any kind of religious service. [4]

Picture: Longer Lives.

And all of this adds up. People who go to church live longer on average than those who don’t attend church.[5]

Picture: Longer Lives quote.
As much as seven years according to some studies.[6]

Scholars have puzzled over these findings. One suggestion is that when church goers get sick, they are able to put their suffering into a wider, cosmic context. One person’s illness is not the end of the world, not even their world. We know that we have been promised life after death. And even if we do not feel well, we are still loved, by our church community, and by God. And that helps get us through illness.[7]

When my pilgrim friend asked me that question on the dusty road in Spain, I did not give as full an answer as I gave today. I’ll send him this sermon; I hope it helps address his question. On that trail, I saw people being loving all the time. Like me, many came to walk just a portion of the trail, not to go all the way. And when they left, they felt they were leaving something special, a little paradise on earth, where people were loving and supportive to strangers who became friends. They were surprised to find that, on an old trail, to an old cathedral. But I don’t think Saint James would be surprised. Love is liberating, and when people come together in love, surprising, wonderful things happen. So let us be grateful for every act of love, wherever it happens, through whoever it happens. And let us keep celebrating that love, in song, in prayer, in acts of compassion. For we are all on a road that leads to God, and God is with us every step of the way. Thanks be to God. Amen.     

[1] L. Michael White, Building God's house in the Roman world: architectural adaptation among pagans, Jews, and Christians, (Baltimore, 1990), 107-9.

[2] TYLER J. VANDERWEELE AND BRENDAN CASE, “Empty Pews Are an American Public Health Crisis, “Christianity Today, November 2021.

https://www.christianitytoday.com/2021/10/church-empty-pews-are-american-public-health-crisis/

[3] “Depression,” in eds, Harold G. Koenig, Tyler j Vanderweele, John R Peter, Handbook of Religion and Health, 3rd edition, (New York, 2024),79

[4] https://news.vanderbilt.edu/2017/05/31/worship-is-good-for-your-health-vanderbilt-study/

[5] A 2018 study found that church goers in Ohio were living four years longer, on average: MICAELA RICAFORTE , “Why Do People of Faith Live Longer?” Azusa Pacific University, JUNE 26, 2018 https://www.apu.edu/articles/why-do-religious-people-live-longer/#:~:text=A%20recent%20study%20finds%20that,lead%20to%20a%20longer%20life.;

[6] David Briggs, "STUDY FINDS REGULAR CHURCHGOERS GET MORE LIFE OUT OF LIFE," The Washington Post, December 12, 1998, https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/local/1998/12/12/study-finds-regular-churchgoers-get-more-life-out-of-life/12b0148e-463e-40ad-b715-201666c327d2/

[7] “Coping with Stress,” in eds, Harold G. Koenig, Tyler j Vanderweele, John R Peter, Handbook of Religion and Health, 3rd edition, (New York, 2024),62.