Our epistle today from the Letter of James (2:1-10, 14-17) is a famous text. In it, James argues that faith without works is not real; works are the proof of faith. He says, “What good is it if you say you have faith but do not have works? If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? Faith by itself is dead.”

This passage is often contrasted with Paul’s tradition of salvation by faith alone. The contrast has formed the faith vs. works controversy since the Reformation 500 years ago. We will probably not solve it this morning.

What can we say about how to get saved? Are we justified by our faith or by our works? All I will humbly offer is, it’s complicated. It is a mystery. God is a mystery. God had better be a mystery, or He or She cannot be God. If we think we have figured it out, no matter how passionately we feel about
our position, we are probably missing a greater truth.

The best guide for us is in Our Lord’s ministry among us. The problem is, Jesus’ answer is mixed. We are left with no clear resolution, and we can only conclude that the choice is a false dichotomy that limits the possibilities and that sees the two answers as in tension with each other.

When the lawyer in Matthew (22:34-40) asked Jesus which is the greatest commandment, he answered, You shall love the Lord your God – faith – and, You shall love your neighbor as yourself – works. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.

The first comes from Deuteronomy (6:5); the second, from Leviticus (19:18). Jesus said the second one is “like” the first; that is, they are inseparably bound together as one and the same.

There can be no doubt about the “works” answer. Action is the essence of what we believe: “Truly I tell you, just as you did it (action) to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” (Matt 25:40)

Our Lord’s teaching was about all God’s creatures being our neighbors, to be treated accordingly. His ministry was about meeting his people’s bodily needs: healing them and feeding them. The whole message of the Incarnation is the sacredness of God’s creation, which carries with it the duty to preserve and nourish all its creatures wherever we can.

So, good works, certainly; social justice. Works are the way we glorify God. Bring it on, every chance we get. God be praised for the Letter of James: “Faith apart from works is barren; a person is justified by works.” (2:20, 24)

But also, faith. Faith saves and justifies. When Jesus healed the blind beggar Bartimaeus, he told him, “Your faith has made you well. When Jesus cleansed the ten lepers (Luke 17:11-19), he told the one who thanked him, “your faith has made you well.” When Jesus healed the hemorrhaging woman, he told her, “your faith has made you well.”

So, faith. There is an openness and receptivity and trust that by itself saves and that comes from knowing Jesus, and through him that God is loving and caring and wants all his people to be whole.

We find the most striking example of this kind of faith in Luke’s account of the Crucifixion (23:39-43). One of the criminals hanged with Jesus said to him, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Faith. Jesus replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

So far as we know, these people had not necessarily done good works.
The criminal was maybe least deserving of mercy. But they all had faith, and that was enough. The faith they showed – these and Jairus and so many others – has a kind of nobility to it. They were driven to be made whole, and they expected God to act through Jesus; they waited for it.

So, we come to today’s gospel. In it, Jesus has gone off to Tyre on the Phoenician coast of present-day Lebanon. So he is among gentiles and foreigners, not his people. A local woman who has heard of Jesus bows down at his feet and begs him to rid her daughter of a demon. Jesus answers by calling her a dog: “it is not fair to throw food to the dogs.”

This rather jarring response from Our Lord calls for some explanation.
Maybe Jesus was exhausted from his travels and out of sorts. Maybe he was just early on in his comprehension of the universal nature of his mission. Jesus was, after all, fully human, with all the normal human reactions. Otherwise, his death and sacrifice make no sense.

In any case, the story goes on. The mother, who is a remarkable character, doesn’t get hurt or angry or resentful at being called a dog. Her faith in Jesus and her love for her daughter outweigh all that. With nice moxie she says to Jesus, well, it’s maybe not fair, but even dogs eat.

Jesus is impressed and affected, and he tells the woman, “For saying that, the demon has left your daughter.” The story reminds me of the saying that goes something like, a prejudice survives only until the first encounter with someone we were prejudiced against.

The girl’s mother may or may not have done good works. We don’t know from the story. But the Phoenician woman from Tyre had faith. It may be that after this event, she went about and did good works.

God be praised. Love your neighbor. Amen.