H. Michael Brewer
Crescent Springs Presbyterian
10 September 2006
MIRROR, MIRROR
James 1:17-27
Who can forget Disney’s vain and nasty Queen seeking her daily dose of flattery?
“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest one of all?”
But after many years of reassurance, one day the mirror said, “O Lady Queen, though fair ye be, Snow
White is fairer far than thee.”
Not what she wanted to hear! But that’s the thing about mirrors—they tell us the truth. No wonder the letter
of James compares the Old Testament law to a mirror.
A little background first. James is a late letter in the New Testament, written in part to clarify the earlier
writings of Paul. You see, Paul says we are saved by grace apart from the law. That’s true, of course, but
some Christians twisted Paul’s message and said, “Faith is all that matters. We don’t need the law. We don’t
need any rules. Our faith saves us, and we can live as we please and do as we want, and it won’t matter to
God.”
The Letter of James is an antidote to that shallow discipleship. Says James, “Dear brothers and sisters,
what's the use of saying you have faith if you don't prove it by your actions? Faith that doesn't show itself by
good deeds is no faith at all—it is dead and useless.” (James 2:14,17 NLT)
How do we gauge our progress as Christians? How do we evaluate our lives to see if we are pleasing
God, to see if we are becoming more like Jesus? We need a mirror, James says, and fortunately God has
given us one. It’s called the law. Not those Old Testament ritual laws forbidding bacon and oysters and
blended fabrics, but those enduring, God-given rules about how we treat one another, how we build character,
the guidelines about how we grow into righteousness—that’s our mirror.
Here’s how James says it: “And remember, (the law) is a message to obey, not just to listen to. If you don't
obey, you are only fooling yourself. For if you just listen and don't obey, it is like looking at your face in a mirror
but doing nothing to improve your appearance. You see yourself, walk away, and forget what you look like. But
if you keep looking steadily into God's perfect law--the law that sets you free--and if you do what it says and
don't forget what you heard, then God will bless you for doing it.” (NLT)
James says that the law holds up a mirror for us, a mirror in which we see our “natural face.” (That’s a
literal rendering of the Greek.) That may mean that we see ourselves as we really are, without pretense or
disguise. Think of it as your morning face: unwashed, unshaven, no make up—just the real you hanging out
there.
There’s a story about a woman who gets on an elevator and finds she is sharing the elevator with Robert
Redford. She tries not to stare, doesn’t know whether or not to speak. But as the doors open for her floor, she
blurts out, “Are you the real Robert Redford?” To which Redford replies, “Only when I’m alone.”
Good answer. There’s a presentable face we show to the world and then there’s the person we are when
no one is looking. The mirror of the law shows who we really are. It’s a tricky thing taking one’s own measure.
If I compare myself to the right people, I look pretty good.
I mean, compared to Lex Luthor, I’m a paragon of virtue. I don’t rob banks or kidnap Lois Lane or carry
concealed Kryptonite.
I don’t chase cute little Dalmatian puppies so I can make myself a fur coat like Cruella DeVille.
Put me beside Cap’n Jack Sparrow—pirate, womanizer, drunkard. Next to Jack, I’m a saint.
But our yardstick, says James, is the law.
The law says: Don’t take what isn’t yours. In fact, don’t even covet what isn’t yours. Hmmm…
The law says: The widows? The orphans? The foreigners in your midst? All those folks who can’t take
care of themselves? It’s your job to take care of them. Ouch!
The law says: Love God so whole-heartedly, so single-mindedly that nothing ever competes with that love.
Okay! I give.
In the mirror of the law, I’m not looking so good. But seeing where we have missed the mark—discovering
where we fall short—gives us the opportunity to change and grow. That’s the whole point.
James has nothing but disdain for people who look into the mirror of the law, see themselves reflected there,
and fail to act on what they’ve learned. James says, “It is like looking at your face in a mirror but doing nothing
to improve your appearance. You see yourself, walk away, and forget what you look like.” (James 1:23-24 NLT)
Don’t you hate it when you come home after a meeting and discover there’s a smudge of printer’s ink on
your cheek or a blob of mustard on your lapel? Don’t you feel stupid when you come in from a date and find a
piece of bright green broccoli on your front tooth? Had you only known, you could have fixed it. You could have
cleaned up and offered a better self to the world. That’s the value of the law. It shows us our own moral
shabbiness, not so we can feel bad but so we can do better. We can move from being hearers of what’s right
and become doers of what’s right.
All right, the law mirrors our shortcomings. That’s clear enough. But when James says the law reveals our
“natural face” he may also have in mind that the law shows us who we were meant to be. In that mirror we
see ourselves as God intended us, we see the person we might yet become.
In World War Two, the Royal Air Force relied heavily on British Spitfires and Hurricanes. Those planes
were fast and maneuverable, but when hit by enemy fire, the cockpit often exploded into flames. In the few
seconds that it took to eject from the craft, the pilot could be severely burned. Many brave young men found
themselves horribly and incurably disfigured after the war. Rejected by wives or former girlfriends, ostracized
by neighbors, these pilots too often lived in lonely isolation, eking out an empty existence on a government
pension, their lives as tragically ruined as their faces.
In the book In His Image, Paul Brand and Philip Yancey tell about one pilot whose story turned out
differently. The soldier’s name was Peter Foster. While defending London from German bombers, his plane
erupted in a fireball. Foster escaped with his life, but like so many others his face was almost burned away.
Even after repeated surgeries, his face remained a mass of puckered scars, the kind of face from which
people avert their eyes.
Peter Foster’s story had a different ending because of one person: his fiancée. The young woman told
Foster that she loved him for his true self, not his outward appearance. She stood by him through his
convalescence. In fact, they were married even before he left the hospital. Foster survived and went on to live a
healthy, rewarding life. He credits his wife with the healing of his spirit. Looking back years later, Foster said,
“She gave me a new image of myself. She became my mirror.”
A loving, forgiving, hopeful God does that for you and me. God offers us a new image of ourselves, a
glimpse of who we might yet be, a promise of the glory still to be revealed in us.
Christian, you are saved by grace, yet it matters how you live. Your deeds, your conduct, your works of love are
a witness to the world and a daily offering to God. If you wonder how you’re doing—if you suspect you’re falling
short—look into the mirror of the law.
But here is a mystery! If we look deeply enough into the law we see through it, we see all the way through
to the living Savior who is the fulfillment of the law. In the mirror of his eyes, we see our need, we see our
calling. And although it is almost impossibly wonderful, in his face we see what God will surely make of you
and me.
Soli Deo Gloria!