What do you see when you look in the mirror?
You might see your reflection so often that you barely think about it. Most of us spend a fair amount of time each day gazing into mirrors—whether we’re picking an outfit or brushing our teeth or maybe noticing how a few more gray hairs or wrinkles have made their debut since the last time we looked. In daily life, we’re surrounded by reflections of ourselves: changing room mirrors, storefront windows, the pesky little pictures of yourself on Zoom calls that you have to click to turn off.
The trick is that these reflections don’t necessarily tell us the truth about what we look like. The mirrors in changing rooms are tilted and lit to flatter (or deceive) us into spending more money. Shop windows reflect our image alongside curated displays, subtly suggesting that we could be something more if only we had what was behind the glass. Even the cameras on our phones and computers subtly warp our faces depending on the angle, making us look just a little different than we do in the flesh.
But these reflections shape how we see ourselves, whether or not we’re aware of it. Like funhouse mirrors, each is warped to accentuate something about our appearance. And we begin to adjust to meet the “demands” of the mirror—we smile a bit more stiffly, hold ourselves a bit straighter, maybe even start to actively doubt or dislike what we see. The mirrors around us don’t just show us what we look like. They shape how we see ourselves and thus how we act.
That’s why the mirror serves as such a good image for the Apostle James as he discusses the manner of living that the Good News—the Gospel—asks us to grasp and develop. Metaphorically speaking, we live our lives surrounded by all sorts of different spiritual “mirrors.” Through entertainment, public discourse, and even our families, the world holds up various reflections of our life—narratives telling us who we are and what we are for.
Some of these spiritual mirrors are like the Mirror of Erised in Harry Potter—a magical object that enthralls the viewer in dreams of worldly goods, feeding them images of whatever they think “the good life” looks like. Others are composed of should’s and ought’s—offering reflections laden with a sense of duty and obligation—like the “tradition of the elders” that Jesus critiques in the Gospel reading. We are so surrounded by these mirrors that we start to believe the reflections they show us, and we begin to act accordingly.
But just like those physical mirrors that warp how we see our bodies and clothes, these spiritual mirrors often warp how we see our lives. They reflect a version of ourselves that isn’t quite true—a version shaped by the world’s expectations, or our own fears and insecurities.
As with that magical mirror in the Harry Potter books, we can get lost in visions of freedom and prosperity, tying our worth to our possessions or status, so that we sacrifice what we know is right and instead chase after whatever serves us best. Or like with the mirror of the scribes & the Pharisees, we can fixate on an elusive ideal of holiness, either making us smug over how exceedingly righteous we are, or shaming us for never quite measuring up to the mark.
These spiritual mirrors that the world offers us only ever show a distorted reflection of who we are and what we are for. And as a result they can lead us down paths of vanity, pride or despair, making us believe that our worth is tied to something fleeting, unattainable, or ultimately empty.
But God calls us to set the world’s mirrors aside and instead gaze into what James calls “the law of liberty.” This mirror—the law of liberty—is crafted neither from a concave hedonism bent on our own desire, nor from a mosaic of harsh expectations, crystalized in an empty piety. This mirror is crafted from the whole shape of salvation history, whose focal point is Jesus Christ—the Word of Truth who was made flesh and implanted himself in our hearts so that we might be saved by being born anew in Baptism and fed with his Body and Blood.
This mirror of the Gospel—the law of liberty—reflects back to us the grace and goodness of God, showing us that we are not defined by our successes or failures—not by what we have or what we lack, but by the sheer love of the God who made us and redeemed us. This mirror shows us: We aren’t free because we can do whatever suits us best. We are free because God is free and has shared that freedom with us. We aren’t holy because we do all the right things without fail. We are holy because God is holy and has shared that holiness with us. When we look into this mirror, we see that everything we have and everything we are is a gift from God—pure, undeserved, and overflowing with love.
And in that reflection, we see our true purpose. This mirror—the law of liberty—reveals who we truly are and what we are truly for. We are, as James reminds us, the first fruits of God’s New Creation, called to live in the world in such a way that our lives reflects the generosity and love of God, the author and give of all good things. All that we have and all that we are is a gift from God, and we are meant to accept this gift and offer it back to God—freely, joyfully, for the life of the world.
The law of liberty shows us that true freedom is not hoarding our time, talent, and treasure or using it only for our own personal gain; nor is true righteousness tithing on a technicality or doing the right thing out of guilt or obligation. True freedom and true righteousness consist of gratefully accepting the gift of our lives and freely offering it—our time, our talent, and our treasure—back to God for the service of the Kingdom. And the Gospel is there to serve as a mirror—to remind us through Word, Sacrament, and Neighbor, that “every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above,” and that we are meant to live accordingly—in freedom and grace—as pure gift.
That is who we are and what we are for. And we come here to this place—to this Word and this Sacrament and these beloved Siblings in Christ—to be behold once again our true reflection in the law of liberty. But it is easy to forget that reflection as soon as we walk out those doors into a world that holds a million funhouse mirrors up to our face. We need Moses’ advice from our first reading just as much as as the Israelites did: “Take care…neither to forget the things that your eyes have seen nor let them slip from your mind all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children’s children.”
So as you go from here today, friends, be mindful of the mirrors that you’re gazing into. It is in the mirror of the Gospel—the Good News of God’s incarnate love—that you will see your true reflection. So as often as you look away and forget what you’ve seen, turn your gaze back to Jesus. In his law of liberty, see the true reflection of who you are and what you are for—pure gift, to be received and offered back. And let that reflection guide you, shape you, and free you to live as the first fruits of God’s New Creation, offering all that you have and all that you are back to God, for the life of the world. Amen.