Readings for the Feast of St. James of Jerusalem
This reflection was written for and shared with the monthly gathering of Associates and Oblates of the Community of the Transfiguration on October 23, 2026
Hermann Hesse tells the fairy tale of a man named Augustus who, through the wish of his mother and the granting of the wish by his magical godfather, received the gift at his baptism of always being loved and admired by everyone. Augustus never suffered want and was able to get away with all kinds of selfish and despicable behavior because everyone was so quick to forgive him. He had no difficulty earning lots of money and winning over the most beautiful women. However, over time, he grew cynical and morose and began to sense “the worthlessness of his dissipated and decadent life and of the way that he had always taken and never given anything.”[1] His licentious life became so vacuous and devoid of joy that he decided to end his life with poison. On the night he planned to drink the poison, his magical godfather showed up at his home and consumed the poison instead, saying, “I drank your poison because I’m the one responsible for your misery. You see, when you were baptized your mother made a wish, and I fulfilled it even though it was a foolish wish…How would it be now if I granted you another wish, any one you want? I don’t think that you’ll want money and possessions, nor power or the love of women. You’ve had enough of all this. Think about it carefully, and when you believe you know the right magic that will make your ruined life better and beautiful and that could also make you happy once more, then wish it for yourself.”[2]
What would you wish? What would you wish for your child?
After some discussion, Augustus said, “Take away the old magic. It hasn’t helped me at all. In its place, give me the power to love people!” As he said this, he began to weep and he could feel love for the old man burning within him. Throughout the remainder of his life, Augustus was treated horribly by many people, especially those whom he had wronged in his previous life of debauchery. However, Augustus saw a “hidden charm and a spark of affection that glimmered from beneath” all the hate and vitriol. He “begged their forgiveness and sought to remember something good about each one of them.” Although his remaining years were difficult, Augustus became satisfied and “found the world most glorious and deserving of love” (99) and it was said that he had died in his old age, surrounded by angels.
I personally find this story helpful and enlightening since I often stress the importance of our belovedness, especially our belovedness in God’s eyes. In the first half of the baptismal covenant, we declare our faith in our belovedness, as revealed in Jesus Christ and expressed in the words of the Apostles’ Creed. But that’s not all, we then continue with the promise to continue in fellowship and to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves, striving for justice and peace among all people, and respecting the dignity of every human being. At our baptism, we are indeed called to bask in our belovedness, but if that’s all we do, then we may end up like Augustus, devoid of joy. That is why we also make a promise to love others, all others. This, I believe, is the great insight of St. James of Jerusalem, who in his Epistle, insisted that faith without works is dead (James 2:17, 26). In other words, our belovedness becomes vacuous if we do not also let it empower us to love others.
I wish a reading from the Epistle of James was included in the propers for the feast day of its traditional author: St James of Jerusalem, not to be confused with the two apostles who shared his name: St. James the Great and St. James the Less. However, the reading from Acts expresses this same insight in its own way. At the Council of Jerusalem (the first church council ever!), St. James spoke to the Jewish followers of Jesus and essentially said, “We Jews know that we are the chosen and beloved people of God, but the Holy Spirit is clearly inviting us to extend that belovedness beyond our tribe. We are being called to share that belovedness with others. Indeed, we are being called to love the people whom our Scriptures and our tradition have previously condemned: the Gentiles. Our belovedness is essential, but it will become vacuous if we do not also let it empower us to love others.”
This same insight, expressed perhaps most powerfully in Jesus’s brother (or cousin?) James, is one that inspired the Episcopal Church to fully welcome and affirm members of the LGBTQ community and it is one that compels us today to keep extending love and welcome to others, who challenge and enrich us. As St. James of Jerusalem welcomed with love the tremendous gifts of the new Gentile Christians in the expanding early church, may be open to receiving and embracing the gifts of those among us who have new ideas and wisdom to share. And may we continue to bask in our belovedness not just for own sake, but for the sake of others, because faith without works is dead and our belovedness is given to us freely so that we might share it freely with others.
Invitation: Read the Book of James today! It’s short, but it packs a punch.
St. James says, “Every good and perfect gift comes from above” (James 1:17), so let us thank God for the Congregational Development Grant we received! And thanks be to God for Cynthia Savage! Just as Jesus had two Jameses among his disciples (neither of which was St. James of Jerusalem), I love that we have two amazing Cynthias among our Associates!
Sending love from Shelter Cove,
DL+
[1] Hermann Hesse, The Fairy Tales of Hermann Hesse, 89.
[2] Hermann Hesse, The Fairy Tales of Hermann Hesse, 91.
