Monday, February 28, 2011

Partiality

I am a student at seminary located in the leafy suburbs of a major US city. The seminary looks out over an understated but relatively wealthy neighborhood. The respectable residents of these beautiful quiet streets commute every morning to the city and bring home city paychecks. In the summer months, early mornings hiss with those automatic sprinklers that keep the lawns green and lush no matter how dry the weather gets. Mexican laborers manicure the gardens and keep the stainless steel kitchen shiny. Things are comfortable and good. On days with snow on the trees, or when the leaves are turning color and lit by the low autumn sun, it is a beautiful place to be. Glory to God!

One road snakes through campus. Recently, construction closed the road and split the campus in half. Some dorms were inaccessible by car. The back gate was opened so that students could drive to those dorms. One day, in a fit of lethargy inspired by a trip to the local donut shop, I decided to drive rather than walk to the dorms by the back gate. This was the first time I had driven through the neighborhood on the back side of seminary, the neighborhood on the opposite side of the aforementioned leafy 'burb. This neighborhood is a rather drab collection of town houses and apartment blocks, with patchy lawns and litter. The residents of this neighborhood seem to be working or lower working class, and much more racially diverse. This neighborhood, which is less prestigious, and a little grubby, is usually completely cut off from the campus. 

The geography of my own seminary expresses certain aspirations and hopes. It faces the neighborhood that is more respectable, comfortable, and wealthy. Nothing wrong here, right? We all (including me) aspire to improve our financial and social situation. We want beauty around us, and we want to live relatively comfortably. These things are a gift of God, and not to be taken for granted.

Yet a fence and locked gate cuts off the campus from the less desirable neighborhood. We face what we want and turn our back to other neighbors.

We think of ourselves as this church: 
photo credit here
We do not think of ourselves as this church:

photo credit here
As I pondered this, I happened to read this passage of Scripture: 

"My brethren, show no partiality as you hold the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory. For if a man with gold rings and in fine clothing comes into you assembly, and a poor man in shabby clothing also comes in, and you pay attention to the one who wears the fine clothing and say, "Have a seat here, please," while you say to the poor man, "Stand there," or, "Sit at my feet," have you not made distinctions among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts?... If you really fulfill the royal law, according to scripture, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself," you do well. But if you show partiality, you commit sin, and are convicted by the law as transgressors." (James 2.1-9)

God gave human beings the desire for comfort, respectability, and financial security. These qualities produce stability and continuity in human society. Yet, as many early desert Christians knew, these desires can become more important than they should be, and cut us off from the love of God and neighbor.

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