Surgery: Removing Fishhooks

I've only gone fishing a few times in my life, and have caught fish once or twice in a catch-and-release lake. If you know me, you know I'm just a teensy bit squeamish, so touching fish and worms is not high up on my to-do list. The one time I went fishing, I had a very patient friend nearby who kindly baited my hooks for me and de-hooked the few fish I caught before releasing them back into the water.

I always felt sorry for the poor fish; those hooks are barbed and not easy to remove, but my friend somehow always managed it.

More squeamishness: If you ask me where steak comes from, and especially if you ask me where steak comes from while I'm enjoying a good pot roast... I'll tell you that it grows on the refrigerated shelves of my local grocery store until it's ready to be picked. I intentionally and blindly deny the reality of the slaughterhouse, because I can't stand the thought of animals dying and ending up on my plate.

I don't think it's wrong to consume meat, and I'm not a vegetarian. But closing that mental curtain is the only way that I can see delicious meat, potatoes, carrots, and gravy in my bowl instead of a cow staring at me with reproachful eyes.

I'm very thankful for farmers who handle these realities in my place; I haven't yet been able to face the facts, and even though I know they happen, I can't think about it.

But here I'm going to think about it for just a second, because James goes there, so I'll go there, too. But only for a minute. :)

James 5:1-6 begins with some powerful words of condemnation against the "rich." Again, as with the passages in chapter 2, James doesn't seem to be only referring to wealth. He holds up a magnifying glass over these "rich people," not zooming in on their bank accounts, but rather on the attitude they carry around as a result of the wealth that they've hoarded. 

Paul reminds us in his first letter to Timothy that it's not money itself that corrupts a person, but rather the love of the power that comes with it. If one has money, one has a certain social responsibility that accompanies that wealth, right? A certain obligation to not misuse or mis-steward this money that has been acquired. 

Paul says: "But godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it" (1 Timothy 6:6-7).

None of us are taking our Mercedes or our Apple watches or our European vacations with us when we go. How content are we? If we measure ourselves by that, it doesn't matter a single red cent how much wealth we've got in our Swiss bank accounts or our stocks and bonds.

He goes on: "People who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge men into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs" (1 Timothy 6:9-10).

I remember having this debate with a friend over whether it was right to own a yacht when people within our circles of influence didn't have enough to eat. Neither of us had all the answers, because there were all sorts of interesting points made on both sides of the issue, but I think -- as a general consensus, it came back to heart condition.

So, for instance, money is made up of paper, metal, ink... basic materials. There is nothing inherently evil about it. But the value attached to that paper, metal, ink, etc., roots itself into our hearts like fishhooks, and if we find that it's hard to let go of that paper, metal, ink... that's where the trouble begins. 

So, back to James. He's talking about the "rich" who have allowed the fishhooks associated with wealth to enter their hearts. "Now listen, you rich people, weep and wail, because of the misery that is coming upon you. Your wealth has rotted, and moths have eaten your clothes."

You can't take it with you. And this isn't an exhortation, like "Hey guys, you can do better." It's a judgment call: Weep and wail, because of the misery that is coming upon you.

To note, it doesn't appear that James is speaking to the church here; in most of the places where he is, he addresses the "brothers." Here, he skips right over that little detail and addresses the "rich." 

He reminds them of what happens to anything non-eternal, non-spiritual: "Your gold and silver are corroded. Their corrosion will testify against you and eat your flesh like fire. You have hoarded your wealth in the last days." And then comes the meat of the issue, that heart condition mentioned earlier: "Look! The wages you failed to pay the workmen who mowed your fields are crying out against you. The cries of the harvesters have reached the ears of the Lord Almighty."

Your own love of your wealth has buried like fishhooks in your hearts, and it doesn't matter how much or how little paper, metal, ink you've got. It's what's in your heart that has made you treat your workmen without justice.

As a result of that heart condition, you strain for more wealth, to the detriment of those around you. Can you own a yacht when people within your spheres of influence don't have enough to eat? Put more concisely, you can own a boat, but should you own a boat amid hungry people? These seem to reflect the two aspects of wealth. You can have money, but should you have money with fishhooks included?

James wraps up this section with a gut-punch: "You have lived on earth in luxury and self-indulgence. You have fattened yourselves in the day of slaughter. You have condemned and murdered innocent men, who were not opposing you."

The irony of this picture of the slaughterhouse is this: Animals in line for the slaughterhouses are fattened up specifically for the meat that they will provide to those grocery store shelves (where meat comes from in my eyes-squinched-shut perspective, right?). These animals, though they are fed the materials for fattening -- grain, hay, grass (paper, metal, ink, sound familiar?) -- do not get fat simply because the food is in their feeding troughs and their fields and available to them.

They themselves consume their own food until they themselves are ready for slaughter.

In other words, James says, the condemnation that's coming? You've got no one to blame but yourselves, because you allowed those fishhooks to make a home in your heart. Money, not the issue. The love of money, issues all over the place.

So, even though James didn't seem to be addressing the "brothers," the church, it still seems wise to take stock of our heart conditions. What fishhooks do we have buried in our hearts? What kinds of things are we holding onto that keep us from helping others?

See, I don't think this issue is exclusive to wealth. I think we can hold onto all sorts of things to the detriment of our brothers and sisters in the church. 

Pride? I like to be thought well of, and no way am I going to humble myself to apologize to my brother or sister, because they might think poorly of me. Fishhook.

Division? I'm on the correct side of the church's stance on this issue or the correct side of the political spectrum or the correct side of the social issue, so no way am I going to open my eyes to see from anyone else's point of view, and especially not to have compassion for that point of view. Fishhook.

Quarreling? He or she said something hurtful to me; no way am I going to let that go and work toward healing. That would make me vulnerable, and vulnerability makes me weak. Fishhook.

I'm going to go back to the law of love that James mentions in 2:8: "Love your neighbor as yourself." There's a whole lot of fishhooks that get removed from hearts when this particular law is followed, first in the heart, and then in the action.

Fishhooks are barbed and not easy to remove, but they have to be removed before healing can begin. If our hearts are hanging onto one or two, it's time for surgery so we can start that healing process.