Original Meaning
The Crown of Life (1:12)
SOME SEE THIS verse as belonging with the previous passage, and indeed it serves as a bridge between 1:1–11 and 1:13–18. But because James provides what many believe is the second element of a double letter opening (the first being 1:2), the break should be here.1 The letter begins with an epistolary introduction (1:1), followed by the initial opening of the letter, in which James presents the themes of trials, wisdom, and wealth (1:2–11). This second opening revisits and expands these themes, but it begins with the ideas of blessing and the crown of life.
James has pressed into service a standard of the theology of Judaism, the idea that people faithful to God are called “blessed.” In the Prophets2 and the wisdom tradition3 many are called blessed: those who have the wisdom to see that through difficulty God forges character; those who seek God’s forgiveness; those who do justice. James reminds his readers of these theological tenets and uses them as a springboard for his new line of thought in verses 13–18, for in this palette are to be found God’s gracious giving and forgiving nature, the nature and purpose of trials, and the formation of godly character.
It seems clear that the Psalms, and more broadly the wisdom tradition, comprise important elements of the background fabric to James.4 As in the wisdom tradition, the word “blessed” has both present and future connotations, for the one who perseveres is qualified to be called “blessed,” and the reward is the “crown [stephanos] of life.”5 In the Bible and in ancient Mediterranean culture, a “crown” was usually understood as the victor’s crown,6 an ornament of honor,7 or the royal crown.8 In the Bible all three types of crowns convey the ideas of reward and honor. In 1 Corinthians 9:24–25 Paul speaks of the crown as eternal life, which he compares to the perishable crown worn by victors at the games.9 In Philippians 4:1 he speaks of believers as his “joy and crown.” Finally, Sirach 6:31 speaks of wisdom in terms of a glorious robe and a crown of gladness.
The reference to wisdom in Sirach 6:31 is tantalizing, for according to James wisdom is needed to understand trials properly and so to gain the “crown of life.” James does not imply a competition that eliminates all but the victor10 or a royal power that serves itself with scant regard to the interests of others. Instead, the crown is the mark of honor and the behavior that leads to eternal life. That is, the “crown of life” is eternal life, and in this age it is a life lived in the will of God as his faithful and loyal servant.
In calling Christians who endure “blessed” (makarios), James is saying that Christians belong to God, for he has adopted us. We are a part of his family and life. Like true children, we are to be like him.11 Part of the meaning of blessing is tied to our being “mature and complete” (1:4), which is a foretaste of our reward, fully realized in the age to come. This idea includes intimacy with God and participation with him in accomplishing his purpose. This is why so much of James is devoted to the practical components of living the Christian life. To become God’s agent is simultaneously to live in communion with God and to be about God’s purpose.
James then adds that this crown of life is what “God has promised to those who love him.” As his children, Christians are to stand fast, as do all who truly love God, in order to receive our inheritance. Here the theme of loyalty to God and of turning from lesser and therefore potentially dangerous and false loyalties is present. The faithful are those who stand the test, for real love for God manifests itself in action. James is here faithfully following the teaching of Jesus (see Matt. 25:31–46).
Bridging Contexts
WE ARE IN danger of making three potential false steps in interpreting this passage. The first has to do with the difference between “trial” and “temptation,” since the same Greek word (peirasmos) means both. The second involves difficulties and how we view them. The third concerns the promised reward to which the text bears witness.
Trials and temptations. In 1:2–12 the NIV renders peirasmos with the English word “trial.” This word group occurs in 1:13 three times as a verb and once as an adverb; here the NIV translates peirasmos as “temptation.” This change is not the result of convenient caprice on the part of the translators of the NIV. James himself makes the distinction. In 1:2–11 “trials” are something to be endured, whereas in 1:13–14 “temptations” are something to be avoided. This is an example of polysemy, or multiple meanings of terms.
Here again the flexibility of the New Testament authors in the matter of words and their meanings is in evidence. We are not unfamiliar with this phenomenon. In English the word “sanction” bears two meanings that are opposed to each other. “Sanction” can mean “to approve,” as in, “The professor gave her sanction for a group project to aid refugee children.” But it can also intend disapproval, usually by way of penalty, as in, “Trade sanctions were leveled against them.” With respect to James 1, particular “trials” or “temptations” may have different origins, but to human eyes, difficulties, no matter their origin, are troublesome. The other factor involved is how we respond to difficulties and what this response reveals about us. A “trial” to one person may well be the arena of “temptation” for another.
This double meaning of peirasmos implies the need for spiritual discernment. It is the lot of human beings to encounter difficult situations. When we perceive them as opportunities for the growth of character and spiritual maturity, they are to be endured. But often we give in to the temptation to blame someone or something else. This, James says, we should avoid, because each of us bears responsibility for allowing temptation to grow in us. God may be the author of trials by which he intends to strengthen us, but he is not to blame if we misconstrue them as temptations that lead to sin.
The difference between peirasmos in 1:2–12 and in 1:13–14 is that in the latter, the individual in view is willing to disobey God, to attribute to God evil intent. So James emphasizes that God is not actively involved in the sending of temptation; in fact, God never tempts anyone. What makes a “test” a “temptation” is not that God has put us in such a position, but rather that we willingly disobey God by seeing misfortune as his attempt to entice us to deny him. It takes spiritual discernment to see in difficulties the possibility of growth. Those who do not are more vulnerable to the lure of the evil desire within them.
A failure to understand these distinctions can lead to any number of problems. Some will see James as making no sense at all. They read it as if James says both “God tests and tempts” and “God neither tests nor tempts.” This sort of simple reading has led many to the erroneous and sad conclusion that the Bible cannot be trusted, that it is “full of holes.” Others will see the passage as presenting various contradictory views of God. How can God be the giver of good gifts, but also the source of evil? But this is not what James believes or teaches. This stumbling block must be identified and then avoided.
Sin, evil, misfortune, and temptation. The second potential misstep that this passage brings to view involves the relationship between the problems of sin, evil, misfortune, and temptation. In fact, there are more than a few difficulties to be found under this heading. James denies that God has anything to do with evil or temptation. One of the problems here is that we tend to blur what the Bible separates; this is one reason why we often fail to distinguish between “trial” and “misfortune,” which we then blame on God.
This is especially true because tragedy and misfortune so often appear random and senseless. In the summer of 1995 a family was traveling from Chicago to Milwaukee. A portion of the brake system of a semi-truck became loose, bounced on the pavement, struck the gas tank of the family’s vehicle, and caused a horrible fire. Several of their children died. Events like this foster both nervous and very human questions of ourselves as well as of God and his character.
When something unfortunate happens, we casually call it “bad” or “evil,” because that is the way it appears to us. It is a problem or a tragedy that cuts to the heart. In practice we tend to define “good” the same way we think God does, and that God wants only “good things” for us. We also demand to know the answer to any misfortune immediately. But patience is needed, for time is a potent tool in God’s hands. The stumbling block here is that in our arrogance and ignorance, we demand the right to define what “good” is. God’s definition is often different from ours. So we need wisdom and insight from him in order to see difficulties for what they are.
This notion of the human perception of misfortune, destruction, and oppression is often tied to God’s patience and restorative intent when his people disobeyed.22 Similarly, when Paul says that he has “handed over to Satan” Hymenaeus and Alexander, that they may learn not to blaspheme (1 Tim. 1:20), he has the same restorative idea in view. Just as in James, there is no question of God’s tempting the people to sin.
We may fail to distinguish between trials, temptations, and the difficulties or misfortunes with which we associate them. In fact, we usually see them as “evils” in some sense of the word. James did not see them in this fashion. He would have us work on separating the various ideas that our culture often binds together, that is, distinguishing between “trials,” “temptations,” “misfortune,” and “evil.”
The modern world affords few such clear-cut cases of Christians encountering “difficulties” beyond those our brothers and sisters have endured under Communist rule. Recently I attended an international theological conference. While there I had occasion to speak to a man who lives in Slovakia, a part of the formerly Communist Czechoslovakia. He had suffered under Communist rule because of his faith. But it was his opinion that while it was difficult to be a Christian under Communism, it has become more difficult without it. “At least under Communism,” he said, “we had a clear perception of the enemy. Today the enemy is not so clear, and with increasing affluence, jealousy has reared its ugly head. Looking back I realize that we had opportunities under Communist rule that now seem closed to us.”
While I have no wish to minimize the horrors of totalitarian regimes, his words left an indelible mark on me. In a situation I would be tempted to view as wholly evil, he could perceive signs of good. It takes spiritual discernment to see rays of hope in the midst of darkness.
Reward. A third potential misstep has to do with the idea of reward as an inducement for faith and behavior. If we stand the trial, James says, God will reward us with the promised “crown of life.” Particularly in the Protestant tradition we are most comfortable with “salvation as a free gift.” To us the idea of a reward for living the Christian life seems distastefully like a bribe offer ed by God.
We must distance ourselves from our modern idea of “bribe” and recognize that the New Testament is comfortable with its idea of reward. In 1 Corinthians 9:24–27 Paul employs the metaphor of a race to illustrate the Christian life, and he concludes with a startling statement: “I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself might not be disqualified for the prize.” In Philippians 3:14 he speaks of pressing on to the goal and prize for which God has called him heavenward in Christ Jesus. Even Jesus spoke of reward: “Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you” (Matt. 5:12). The New Testament idea of reward is not akin to our notion of a bribe. Rather, it is a reminder of the dignity, gravity, and integrity of the calling of God to which we have responded. It is an appeal to our pure inclination and a reminder of the example of the saints who have gone before.
Contemporary Significance
JAMES’S IMAGE OF a lure that tempts us to fall from the truth aptly captures the practical application of many of the significant theological issues that he brings to our attention. We will discuss several such lures, each of which is manifest in potent and varied ways in contemporary culture.
(1) Because of the ability of sin to mask itself, a lure may appear harmless and innocent to our eyes, but in reality it has dire consequences. Take, for example, the powerful lure of success, especially if we can dress it in spiritual clothing. There is no denying that the rise of contemporary Christian music has met a great need in our culture. But Steve Moser, a veteran of the contemporary Christian music scene, recently expressed real concerns about the industry. In the beginning, he believes, contemporary Christian music “was a genuine outpouring of God’s Spirit.” But Moser has lately seen changes that disturb him, changes that were concurrent with, but not wholly the result of, the purchase of Christian record labels by secular companies.
I look at the majority of the [Christian] music I hear today and I think it’s virtually meaningless…. We’ve created the opportunity for business to happen … [and] now we’re obligated to put something out…. The bottom line is “if it is commercially viable, produce it.” … I would probably be more inclined to call the industry “commercial Christian music,” rather than “contemporary Christian music.”23
Moser here points out an effective lure: “success” in terms of the definition offered by our culture. Certainly, we think, if God is in this enterprise, then we will be successful. The members of the “prosperity” wing of American Protestantism would, of course, agree. The problem is that God’s priorities are his own, and when on occasion those priorities and “success” do overlap (such as in the “success” of Billy Graham), we should not mistake the one for the other. Sometimes God calls people to labor in vain, in fields that to our eyes appear barren. To such fields, for example, God called Jeremiah. Without God’s wisdom we might assume that the “lying prophets” who opposed Jeremiah were in fact God’s true agents (Jer. 23:9–24). Many of the contemporaries of Jeremiah made this mistake, to their ruin.
Scottie Smith, the pastor of the Christ Community Church of Franklin, Tennessee, the church home of many of the “stars” of the Christian music industry, knows this lure first-hand. He writes, “Celebrity-ism … feeds the very things against which the Scriptures warn us.”24 Success and acclaim easily crowd out the servant model the Bible places before us. This is one of the oldest of sins, the sin of pride. The fact that it is well known and yet continues to claim many victims is a testimony to the power and tenacity of sin and to the success of the hidden lure.
The last two decades have seen a spate of prominent Christian leaders and preachers caught in sins like adultery and embezzlement, sometimes in an embarrassingly public fashion. These people did not begin with an agenda that included such sins. But they allowed themselves to nurture the lie that they deserved “comfort,” even if from an illicit source. They cultivated the lie that they were above the standards of a biblical lifestyle or that they could safely dally with sin. They must have told themselves that this dalliance was harmless. But quickly it grew until it had the capacity to devour them. I know a pastor who cultivated an unwise relationship with his secretary. Although he was finally dismissed by his church board, he continues to see her, often in public. There are many sad consequences to this story, not the least of which is that the ability of this church to witness to its community has been dealt a severe blow.
(2) Another lure is the current popular belief that there is no evil impulse within us. When James discusses the evil inclination, moderns have a tough time believing him. Our age does not like to face the fact that humans have a tremendous capacity for evil. Contrary to all evidence, we seem intent on forcing ourselves to believe that human beings are essentially good and that the universe is a kind of nonspecific storehouse of safety and support.
We must take seriously the evil impulse and try to make it intelligible to our world. This is no easy task. The naive and happy New Age optimism of the actress Shirley MacLaine is one example. Another is the burgeoning popular belief in angels as friendly guardians, cut off from any biblical basis. These beliefs may make us feel better, but such beliefs in no way change what is. James teaches us what is: There are forces in us and around us that are opposed to God, and within us exists a bent to oppose God, to hide from God, to disobey. We may not like the fact that we have the capacity to sin. We may not like bearing responsibility for our actions. But however much we may wish it were not so, our wishing cannot change what is. And so James discusses this capacity for sin within us, because he does not want us to fool ourselves.
Some months ago I was teaching an introduction to the Bible course to a group of adults, many of whom had little or no previous exposure to the Bible. During our discussion of Romans, one student suddenly asked, “Are you telling us that the Bible teaches that human beings can be evil? Because I do not believe it is true!” I responded that the Bible does teach that human beings have the capacity for evil, and I offered that I thought human experience does too. How else can one explain apartheid, the horrors of the Nazi regime, the Stalinist terror, or economic exploitation here in the United States. He responded that he knew about these things, but that he still chose to believe that human beings were essentially without the capacity for evil.
James, on the other hand, knows that we possess a tremendous capacity to fool ourselves and to believe certain things simply because we wish to believe them, even against overwhelming evidence. Our task as Christians is to point out James’s insistence that there is a powerful capacity for sin and evil within human beings, and that he is right. Only if we understand this will we recognize the grave danger we are in; to treat this capacity lightly, or even worse, to fail to recognize it,25 makes us all the more susceptible to the temptation to dally in what appears to be an “innocent” sin. When we do this, we place our feet on the path that leads to sin and ultimately to death.
(3) The third lure dangled before us is the belief that sin is not really sin, so that it does not need to be taken seriously. Like Paul we need to see that there is something irrational about our behaviors in comparison with our commitments: “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do” (Rom. 7:15). Our response should be humbly to ask God for forgiveness for our sins and to pray for his assurance and assistance in negotiating the shoals of life. We are going to sin, but the crucial issue is how we respond to our sin. We will be tempted to blame God, but James wants us to come before God and ask for help. Like David we should pray, “Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin…. Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me” (Ps. 51:2, 10).
Unfortunately, we do not take seriously enough the corrosive power of sin within us. When Jesus spoke of the thought of adultery as the same as the act itself (see Matt. 5:27–28), he had in mind something similar to what James teaches here. Actions are the result of character, but actions can also shape character. This is what James means when he said that desire gives birth to sin, and then sin leads to death.
Because sin is so fertile and so prone to masking its true character, we must be vigilant concerning the lures that our own evil inclination puts forward to engage our attention, imagination, and action. Lures are not effective if they appear obvious; they are only effective if they appear as something they are not, or at least as relatively harmless. Satan will not be effective if the temptations offered to us are so outlandish that we never will pursue them. But if Satan can get us to expend all of our energy and time doing good things, so that the best things remain undone, he has won a marginal victory, and he may in fact have placed our feet on the road to ruin.
Jeremiah knew this. God’s people had rejected the Lord and followed the patterns of life practiced by their neighbors. While maintaining a belief that they were God’s people, they had rejected his standards. They fooled themselves into thinking that they could remain his people, in spite of their lack of compassion for one another. In Jeremiah 7:4–8 their falsehood is catalogued as God speaks to them:
Do not trust in deceptive words and say, “This is the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD!” If you really change your ways and your actions and deal with each other justly, if you do not oppress the alien, the fatherless or the widow and do not shed innocent blood in this place, and if you do not follow other gods to your own harm, then I will let you live in this place, in the land I gave your forefathers for ever and ever. But look, you are trusting in deceptive words that are worthless.
The people of Judah had fooled themselves into thinking that the presence of the temple alone would protect them. But on its own it had no power. Their failure to live lives of compassion and justice in the image of God would result in their punishment. It was Jeremiah’s sad task to warn them.
I am reminded of a story I recently heard about a pastor who carries placards outside funeral homes during the funerals of victims of AIDS. The placards read, “God hates fags.” While the evangelical community is in my judgment correct in teaching that God does not condone homosexual practice, it is also true that at times in our certainty that we understand God, we act in ways that are contrary to his purpose. We are not so different from those who trusted in the temple and missed the heart of God. Our certitude allows us to fall prey to the hidden lure.
James also offers a warning. While he specifically mentions the sin of accusing God of being the author of temptation, clearly other sins are in view in his outline of the development of sin. James wants us to know that there are no harmless sins. Following our own evil inclination to ascribe evil to God starts our feet on a path that suddenly leads to death, for the seeds of sin quickly grow strong, often without our awareness of it. Largely this is because sin operates by stealth and thus soon does not even appear as sin to our eyes. In 1968 Richard Nixon accepted the nomination of his party to run for the office of President of the United States. In his acceptance speech he said, “Let us begin by committing ourselves to the truth, to see it as it is, and to tell it like it is, to find the truth, to speak the truth, to live the truth.” Nine years later26 CBS News reported Nixon taking a different slant: “When a President does it, then it is not illegal.”
It is even possible that what we call “compassion” can lead to sin. Thomas C. Oden, professor of theology and ethics at Drew University, notes that in this age of absolute relativism and pluralism, heresy has taken on a new face. It used to be, says Oden, that a heretic had an “excessive regard for his own ‘truth.’ ” But the “current error does not proclaim a better truth, but that all truths are equal and none is superior…. The modern relativist may be every bit as willful [as the old-time heretic] in considering all truths ‘valid.’ ”27
Many Protestant denominations and individual Christians in practice jettison any notion of right and wrong in the interests of this pluralistic “compassion.” The Episcopal Church reluctantly began a trial of one of its bishops on charges of heresy, specifically because the bishop in question ordained a practicing homosexual. The matter of the acceptability of Christian homosexual practice ought to be settled on the basis of the teaching of Scripture, not out of some vague notion of “compassionate concern.” Issues such as these require us to walk the razor’s edge along the mountain heights, with dangerous cliffs to either side. We must not stray too far to the left, lest we fall from biblical teaching and call sin a harmless preoccupation. But we cannot afford to stray too far to the right, living in the fiction that in condemning both the sin and the sinner, we have somehow still “loved” the sinner and so fall from the biblical mandate of compassion. We are all fallen and need the understanding grace that is carried forth in the hands of Jesus. But we need his direction and model of a life lived with integrity before the Scriptures. For this reason Jesus could say, “Go now and leave your life of sin” (John 8:11). To this James would add a reminder to beware of the deceptive power of sin.
(4) A final lure that besets moderns is the desire to attribute to God evil intent and to blame him for misfortune. In making a distinction between the two definitions of peirasmos and adding the flat statement, “Don’t be deceived” (1:16), James clearly teaches the need for spiritual discernment. Such discernment allows one to distinguish between “trials” and “temptations.” But it also prevents one from questioning the character of God. The stumbling block that James wants us to avoid here is the tendency to ask the human question: “Why did God do that?” and so to blame God.
One of the characters in David Guterson’s award-winning novel Snow Falling on Cedars is Ishmael Chambers. Ishmael lost an arm in the U.S. assault of the island of Tarawa in the Pacific during World War II; but he lost his capacity for warmth and joy when the war separated him from his childhood love, a young Japanese-American woman named Hatsue. In the midst of his emptiness he said to his mother, “I’m unhappy…. Tell me what to do.” Her response included a firm faith in God. When confronted by the faith of his mother, Ishmael replies, “There were guys who prayed at Tarawa…. They still got killed, Mother. Just like the guys who didn’t pray. It didn’t matter either way.”28
This is a typical modern response. When confronted by the horrible randomness of misfortune, whether the deaths of a mother and her children at the hands of a drunk driver, or the more garden-variety difficulty of a flat tire, we resort to four possible conclusions: (a) God does not exist; or (b) God is evil; or (c) God is powerless to help; or (d) God does not care. None of these is worthy of our worship, so we choose to believe that God is of no consequence.
As we have seen, human beings wish so much for a world in which people (including themselves) and forces are basically good that they will themselves to believe it regardless of the evidence. This simplistic worldview is also used to buttress the position that doubts God’s existence, because it defines “good” from a human point of view. If anything that we perceive as “bad” happens, then we call into question the character of God. What is often at work here is our desperate and selfish inclination to avoid responsibility.
In late twentieth-century America, stories illustrative of this predilection abound. A thief in the process of robbing a home severely injured himself. He then had the audacity to sue the owner of the home for damages—and won the case! Or the Menendez brothers, whose defense for the brutal shotgun killing of their parents was that they had endured years of child abuse. Or Richard Allen Davis, the habitual criminal who murdered Polly Klaas, whose defense was that he had a difficult childhood. Certainly life is unfair. But this does not mean that we do not bear responsibility for our actions. It seems as if no one is accountable for his or her own actions anymore. More and more our culture claims that someone or something else is at fault.
But James calls us to learn spiritual discernment, to judge with right judgment, so that we will be able to see difficulties as opportunities for spiritual growth rather than suppose that in them is evidence that God does not care. How is this accomplished? And what does it look like?
The words of the great Oxford scholar G. B. Caird are helpful here. In his New Testament Theology Caird wrote:
To follow Jesus or to follow his example turns out to be, as popular tradition has held, the higher road, that particular morality which the gospel imposes on the Christian. But such morality does not consist in conformity to any stereotyped pattern; it consists rather in learning from Jesus an attitude of mind which comprises sensitivity to the presence of God and to the will of God which is the only authority, a constant submission of personal interest to the pursuit of that will in the well-being of others, and a confidence that, whatever the immediate consequences may appear to be, the outcome can safely be left in God’s hands.29
To follow Jesus is to learn an attitude of mind and heart that is sensitive to the will and presence of God. As we saw above, God seeks us out, and he waits for our attention and for our hearts to be turned to him. The first step is the simple but profound one of opening the door to God in prayer, of asking God to be at work in our minds and hearts, and to change us into his image. “For the Christian,” says Richard J. Foster, “heaven is not the goal, it is the destination. The goal is that ‘Christ be formed in you.’ ”30
Original Meaning
Temptations and Their Source (1:13–15)
WHEN MISFORTUNE STRIKES, we tend to look for something or someone else to blame. Tragedy is often random and mindless: An infant is killed by a stray bullet fired in a drive-by shooting; an airliner crashes, killing hundreds; a young woman dies in an automobile accident, the victim of a drunk driver. Senseless tragedy leaves us feeling numb, powerless, and uncertain. These are the sorts of situations that arise on the horizon of our text; thus, James turns his attention from those who endure and pass the test (v. 12) to those about to abandon the effort.12
It is common for humans to attribute difficulties or evil to Satan, or to God, or to the whims of fate. Homer has Zeus complain: “It is incredible how easily human beings blame the gods and believe us to be the source of their troubles, when it is their own wickedness and stupidity that brings upon them sorrows more severe than any which Destiny would assign.”13 Proverbs 19:3 makes the point well: “A man’s own folly ruins his life, yet his heart rages against the LORD.” When confronted by God in the Garden of Eden, Adam pleads innocence and blames Eve (Gen. 3:12–13). Eve in turn blames the serpent, and by extension God the creator. Neither takes responsibility for his or her actions. How human they are, and how quickly they prove themselves willing to place their relationship to each other and to God in jeopardy in the name of self-interest!
To this James offers a trenchant response: “When tempted, no one should say, ‘God is tempting me.’ ” James offers two reasons for this. God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone. God has nothing to do with temptation; and when we falsely accuse him or seek to force him to prove himself, we are guilty of trying to tempt God. It is not unlikely that James was reminded of the temptation narratives, in which Jesus quoted Deuteronomy 6:16 in response to Satan: “Do not put the Lord your God to the test” (Matt. 4:7; Luke 4:12).
James knows the origin of temptation. It is not God, nor is it Satan and Satan alone. It is instead a personal desire born of self-interest that renders us susceptible to the evil inclination and therefore, at times, to the wiles of the evil one. We may wrongly seek to blame others, Satan, or even God, but ultimately we are morally responsible. The key term here is epithymia, which means “desire.” In the New Testament epithymia generally carries a negative meaning, such as “lust,” “selfish ambition,” or “evil desire.”14
Unlike the case in 1:2–8, here peirasmos (“temptation, trial”) is clearly restricted in origin to the internal, to its source lodged within us. This source is the “evil desire,” and James must be thinking again of the yeṣer ha-ra.15 According to him, we are “dragged away” and “enticed” by evil desire. The expressions have their home in the realms of hunting and fishing. The fact that they appear in an odd order (“dragged off” is placed before “enticed”) is best explained by the predilection of the Old Testament to mesh images of snares and nets. So in Ecclesiastes 9:12 we read, “As fish are caught in a cruel net, or birds taken in a snare, so men are trapped by evil times that fall unexpectedly upon them.”
In other words, this verse contains two similar images, not a succession of action within one image. The first pictures the violent action of capture that follows setting a lure, and second the attractive bait that draws an unsuspecting victim. The extraordinary vividness of these images shows how dangerous James believes the evil impulse to be. Evil desire within us acts as both the attractive bait and as the lure. The evil desire is our own, and a bent to be attracted to it is equally our own responsibility. This deep character inclination explains the actions of the double-minded person in 1:6–8 and the wealthy person in 1:10.
James employs a biological/biographical image to describe a nearly inexorable devolution. When desire is conceived through our active encouragement, it gives birth to sin, which then matures, leading ultimately to death. James uses the verb form apotelestheisa (from apoteleo), which means “to bring to completion,” “to achieve its goal.” So apotelestheisa serves as the dark mirror image to “perfect” in 1:4.16
It is important to note that James has in mind the nurture of this desire. When tragedy strikes, it is natural for us to inquire of God, but we should not allow this natural desire to grow into sin. In the depths of his despair, for example, Job said, “Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him” (Job 13:15). Here is combined the very human tendency to cry out to God, but it is a cry in the context of trust. Too often, however, that tendency runs its own course within us.
James provides us with many contrasts here: double-mindedness and single-mindedness; complete in sin and complete in spiritual maturity; doubt and faith; death and true life. By the use of these parallels he makes his case that individuals are accountable, and that it is wrong to see difficult circumstance as the result of a God who can do evil or of a God who wishes to do good but does not have the power to aid those in distress. Once again it is our attitude, our spiritual discernment, that makes the difference. James wants us to know that sin, when mature, is a fixed habit. If we are not wary, we can become trained in evil, which is a sobering thought.
Bridging Contexts
WE ARE IN danger of making three potential false steps in interpreting this passage. The first has to do with the difference between “trial” and “temptation,” since the same Greek word (peirasmos) means both. The second involves difficulties and how we view them. The third concerns the promised reward to which the text bears witness.
Trials and temptations. In 1:2–12 the NIV renders peirasmos with the English word “trial.” This word group occurs in 1:13 three times as a verb and once as an adverb; here the NIV translates peirasmos as “temptation.” This change is not the result of convenient caprice on the part of the translators of the NIV. James himself makes the distinction. In 1:2–11 “trials” are something to be endured, whereas in 1:13–14 “temptations” are something to be avoided. This is an example of polysemy, or multiple meanings of terms.
Here again the flexibility of the New Testament authors in the matter of words and their meanings is in evidence. We are not unfamiliar with this phenomenon. In English the word “sanction” bears two meanings that are opposed to each other. “Sanction” can mean “to approve,” as in, “The professor gave her sanction for a group project to aid refugee children.” But it can also intend disapproval, usually by way of penalty, as in, “Trade sanctions were leveled against them.” With respect to James 1, particular “trials” or “temptations” may have different origins, but to human eyes, difficulties, no matter their origin, are troublesome. The other factor involved is how we respond to difficulties and what this response reveals about us. A “trial” to one person may well be the arena of “temptation” for another.
This double meaning of peirasmos implies the need for spiritual discernment. It is the lot of human beings to encounter difficult situations. When we perceive them as opportunities for the growth of character and spiritual maturity, they are to be endured. But often we give in to the temptation to blame someone or something else. This, James says, we should avoid, because each of us bears responsibility for allowing temptation to grow in us. God may be the author of trials by which he intends to strengthen us, but he is not to blame if we misconstrue them as temptations that lead to sin.
The difference between peirasmos in 1:2–12 and in 1:13–14 is that in the latter, the individual in view is willing to disobey God, to attribute to God evil intent. So James emphasizes that God is not actively involved in the sending of temptation; in fact, God never tempts anyone. What makes a “test” a “temptation” is not that God has put us in such a position, but rather that we willingly disobey God by seeing misfortune as his attempt to entice us to deny him. It takes spiritual discernment to see in difficulties the possibility of growth. Those who do not are more vulnerable to the lure of the evil desire within them.
A failure to understand these distinctions can lead to any number of problems. Some will see James as making no sense at all. They read it as if James says both “God tests and tempts” and “God neither tests nor tempts.” This sort of simple reading has led many to the erroneous and sad conclusion that the Bible cannot be trusted, that it is “full of holes.” Others will see the passage as presenting various contradictory views of God. How can God be the giver of good gifts, but also the source of evil? But this is not what James believes or teaches. This stumbling block must be identified and then avoided.
Sin, evil, misfortune, and temptation. The second potential misstep that this passage brings to view involves the relationship between the problems of sin, evil, misfortune, and temptation. In fact, there are more than a few difficulties to be found under this heading. James denies that God has anything to do with evil or temptation. One of the problems here is that we tend to blur what the Bible separates; this is one reason why we often fail to distinguish between “trial” and “misfortune,” which we then blame on God.
This is especially true because tragedy and misfortune so often appear random and senseless. In the summer of 1995 a family was traveling from Chicago to Milwaukee. A portion of the brake system of a semi-truck became loose, bounced on the pavement, struck the gas tank of the family’s vehicle, and caused a horrible fire. Several of their children died. Events like this foster both nervous and very human questions of ourselves as well as of God and his character.
When something unfortunate happens, we casually call it “bad” or “evil,” because that is the way it appears to us. It is a problem or a tragedy that cuts to the heart. In practice we tend to define “good” the same way we think God does, and that God wants only “good things” for us. We also demand to know the answer to any misfortune immediately. But patience is needed, for time is a potent tool in God’s hands. The stumbling block here is that in our arrogance and ignorance, we demand the right to define what “good” is. God’s definition is often different from ours. So we need wisdom and insight from him in order to see difficulties for what they are.
This notion of the human perception of misfortune, destruction, and oppression is often tied to God’s patience and restorative intent when his people disobeyed.22 Similarly, when Paul says that he has “handed over to Satan” Hymenaeus and Alexander, that they may learn not to blaspheme (1 Tim. 1:20), he has the same restorative idea in view. Just as in James, there is no question of God’s tempting the people to sin.
We may fail to distinguish between trials, temptations, and the difficulties or misfortunes with which we associate them. In fact, we usually see them as “evils” in some sense of the word. James did not see them in this fashion. He would have us work on separating the various ideas that our culture often binds together, that is, distinguishing between “trials,” “temptations,” “misfortune,” and “evil.”
The modern world affords few such clear-cut cases of Christians encountering “difficulties” beyond those our brothers and sisters have endured under Communist rule. Recently I attended an international theological conference. While there I had occasion to speak to a man who lives in Slovakia, a part of the formerly Communist Czechoslovakia. He had suffered under Communist rule because of his faith. But it was his opinion that while it was difficult to be a Christian under Communism, it has become more difficult without it. “At least under Communism,” he said, “we had a clear perception of the enemy. Today the enemy is not so clear, and with increasing affluence, jealousy has reared its ugly head. Looking back I realize that we had opportunities under Communist rule that now seem closed to us.”
While I have no wish to minimize the horrors of totalitarian regimes, his words left an indelible mark on me. In a situation I would be tempted to view as wholly evil, he could perceive signs of good. It takes spiritual discernment to see rays of hope in the midst of darkness.
Reward. A third potential misstep has to do with the idea of reward as an inducement for faith and behavior. If we stand the trial, James says, God will reward us with the promised “crown of life.” Particularly in the Protestant tradition we are most comfortable with “salvation as a free gift.” To us the idea of a reward for living the Christian life seems distastefully like a bribe offer ed by God.
We must distance ourselves from our modern idea of “bribe” and recognize that the New Testament is comfortable with its idea of reward. In 1 Corinthians 9:24–27 Paul employs the metaphor of a race to illustrate the Christian life, and he concludes with a startling statement: “I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself might not be disqualified for the prize.” In Philippians 3:14 he speaks of pressing on to the goal and prize for which God has called him heavenward in Christ Jesus. Even Jesus spoke of reward: “Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you” (Matt. 5:12). The New Testament idea of reward is not akin to our notion of a bribe. Rather, it is a reminder of the dignity, gravity, and integrity of the calling of God to which we have responded. It is an appeal to our pure inclination and a reminder of the example of the saints who have gone before.
Contemporary Significance
JAMES’S IMAGE OF a lure that tempts us to fall from the truth aptly captures the practical application of many of the significant theological issues that he brings to our attention. We will discuss several such lures, each of which is manifest in potent and varied ways in contemporary culture.
(1) Because of the ability of sin to mask itself, a lure may appear harmless and innocent to our eyes, but in reality it has dire consequences. Take, for example, the powerful lure of success, especially if we can dress it in spiritual clothing. There is no denying that the rise of contemporary Christian music has met a great need in our culture. But Steve Moser, a veteran of the contemporary Christian music scene, recently expressed real concerns about the industry. In the beginning, he believes, contemporary Christian music “was a genuine outpouring of God’s Spirit.” But Moser has lately seen changes that disturb him, changes that were concurrent with, but not wholly the result of, the purchase of Christian record labels by secular companies.
I look at the majority of the [Christian] music I hear today and I think it’s virtually meaningless…. We’ve created the opportunity for business to happen … [and] now we’re obligated to put something out…. The bottom line is “if it is commercially viable, produce it.” … I would probably be more inclined to call the industry “commercial Christian music,” rather than “contemporary Christian music.”23
Moser here points out an effective lure: “success” in terms of the definition offered by our culture. Certainly, we think, if God is in this enterprise, then we will be successful. The members of the “prosperity” wing of American Protestantism would, of course, agree. The problem is that God’s priorities are his own, and when on occasion those priorities and “success” do overlap (such as in the “success” of Billy Graham), we should not mistake the one for the other. Sometimes God calls people to labor in vain, in fields that to our eyes appear barren. To such fields, for example, God called Jeremiah. Without God’s wisdom we might assume that the “lying prophets” who opposed Jeremiah were in fact God’s true agents (Jer. 23:9–24). Many of the contemporaries of Jeremiah made this mistake, to their ruin.
Scottie Smith, the pastor of the Christ Community Church of Franklin, Tennessee, the church home of many of the “stars” of the Christian music industry, knows this lure first-hand. He writes, “Celebrity-ism … feeds the very things against which the Scriptures warn us.”24 Success and acclaim easily crowd out the servant model the Bible places before us. This is one of the oldest of sins, the sin of pride. The fact that it is well known and yet continues to claim many victims is a testimony to the power and tenacity of sin and to the success of the hidden lure.
The last two decades have seen a spate of prominent Christian leaders and preachers caught in sins like adultery and embezzlement, sometimes in an embarrassingly public fashion. These people did not begin with an agenda that included such sins. But they allowed themselves to nurture the lie that they deserved “comfort,” even if from an illicit source. They cultivated the lie that they were above the standards of a biblical lifestyle or that they could safely dally with sin. They must have told themselves that this dalliance was harmless. But quickly it grew until it had the capacity to devour them. I know a pastor who cultivated an unwise relationship with his secretary. Although he was finally dismissed by his church board, he continues to see her, often in public. There are many sad consequences to this story, not the least of which is that the ability of this church to witness to its community has been dealt a severe blow.
(2) Another lure is the current popular belief that there is no evil impulse within us. When James discusses the evil inclination, moderns have a tough time believing him. Our age does not like to face the fact that humans have a tremendous capacity for evil. Contrary to all evidence, we seem intent on forcing ourselves to believe that human beings are essentially good and that the universe is a kind of nonspecific storehouse of safety and support.
We must take seriously the evil impulse and try to make it intelligible to our world. This is no easy task. The naive and happy New Age optimism of the actress Shirley MacLaine is one example. Another is the burgeoning popular belief in angels as friendly guardians, cut off from any biblical basis. These beliefs may make us feel better, but such beliefs in no way change what is. James teaches us what is: There are forces in us and around us that are opposed to God, and within us exists a bent to oppose God, to hide from God, to disobey. We may not like the fact that we have the capacity to sin. We may not like bearing responsibility for our actions. But however much we may wish it were not so, our wishing cannot change what is. And so James discusses this capacity for sin within us, because he does not want us to fool ourselves.
Some months ago I was teaching an introduction to the Bible course to a group of adults, many of whom had little or no previous exposure to the Bible. During our discussion of Romans, one student suddenly asked, “Are you telling us that the Bible teaches that human beings can be evil? Because I do not believe it is true!” I responded that the Bible does teach that human beings have the capacity for evil, and I offered that I thought human experience does too. How else can one explain apartheid, the horrors of the Nazi regime, the Stalinist terror, or economic exploitation here in the United States. He responded that he knew about these things, but that he still chose to believe that human beings were essentially without the capacity for evil.
James, on the other hand, knows that we possess a tremendous capacity to fool ourselves and to believe certain things simply because we wish to believe them, even against overwhelming evidence. Our task as Christians is to point out James’s insistence that there is a powerful capacity for sin and evil within human beings, and that he is right. Only if we understand this will we recognize the grave danger we are in; to treat this capacity lightly, or even worse, to fail to recognize it,25 makes us all the more susceptible to the temptation to dally in what appears to be an “innocent” sin. When we do this, we place our feet on the path that leads to sin and ultimately to death.
(3) The third lure dangled before us is the belief that sin is not really sin, so that it does not need to be taken seriously. Like Paul we need to see that there is something irrational about our behaviors in comparison with our commitments: “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do” (Rom. 7:15). Our response should be humbly to ask God for forgiveness for our sins and to pray for his assurance and assistance in negotiating the shoals of life. We are going to sin, but the crucial issue is how we respond to our sin. We will be tempted to blame God, but James wants us to come before God and ask for help. Like David we should pray, “Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin…. Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me” (Ps. 51:2, 10).
Unfortunately, we do not take seriously enough the corrosive power of sin within us. When Jesus spoke of the thought of adultery as the same as the act itself (see Matt. 5:27–28), he had in mind something similar to what James teaches here. Actions are the result of character, but actions can also shape character. This is what James means when he said that desire gives birth to sin, and then sin leads to death.
Because sin is so fertile and so prone to masking its true character, we must be vigilant concerning the lures that our own evil inclination puts forward to engage our attention, imagination, and action. Lures are not effective if they appear obvious; they are only effective if they appear as something they are not, or at least as relatively harmless. Satan will not be effective if the temptations offered to us are so outlandish that we never will pursue them. But if Satan can get us to expend all of our energy and time doing good things, so that the best things remain undone, he has won a marginal victory, and he may in fact have placed our feet on the road to ruin.
Jeremiah knew this. God’s people had rejected the Lord and followed the patterns of life practiced by their neighbors. While maintaining a belief that they were God’s people, they had rejected his standards. They fooled themselves into thinking that they could remain his people, in spite of their lack of compassion for one another. In Jeremiah 7:4–8 their falsehood is catalogued as God speaks to them:
Do not trust in deceptive words and say, “This is the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD!” If you really change your ways and your actions and deal with each other justly, if you do not oppress the alien, the fatherless or the widow and do not shed innocent blood in this place, and if you do not follow other gods to your own harm, then I will let you live in this place, in the land I gave your forefathers for ever and ever. But look, you are trusting in deceptive words that are worthless.
The people of Judah had fooled themselves into thinking that the presence of the temple alone would protect them. But on its own it had no power. Their failure to live lives of compassion and justice in the image of God would result in their punishment. It was Jeremiah’s sad task to warn them.
I am reminded of a story I recently heard about a pastor who carries placards outside funeral homes during the funerals of victims of AIDS. The placards read, “God hates fags.” While the evangelical community is in my judgment correct in teaching that God does not condone homosexual practice, it is also true that at times in our certainty that we understand God, we act in ways that are contrary to his purpose. We are not so different from those who trusted in the temple and missed the heart of God. Our certitude allows us to fall prey to the hidden lure.
James also offers a warning. While he specifically mentions the sin of accusing God of being the author of temptation, clearly other sins are in view in his outline of the development of sin. James wants us to know that there are no harmless sins. Following our own evil inclination to ascribe evil to God starts our feet on a path that suddenly leads to death, for the seeds of sin quickly grow strong, often without our awareness of it. Largely this is because sin operates by stealth and thus soon does not even appear as sin to our eyes. In 1968 Richard Nixon accepted the nomination of his party to run for the office of President of the United States. In his acceptance speech he said, “Let us begin by committing ourselves to the truth, to see it as it is, and to tell it like it is, to find the truth, to speak the truth, to live the truth.” Nine years later26 CBS News reported Nixon taking a different slant: “When a President does it, then it is not illegal.”
It is even possible that what we call “compassion” can lead to sin. Thomas C. Oden, professor of theology and ethics at Drew University, notes that in this age of absolute relativism and pluralism, heresy has taken on a new face. It used to be, says Oden, that a heretic had an “excessive regard for his own ‘truth.’ ” But the “current error does not proclaim a better truth, but that all truths are equal and none is superior…. The modern relativist may be every bit as willful [as the old-time heretic] in considering all truths ‘valid.’ ”27
Many Protestant denominations and individual Christians in practice jettison any notion of right and wrong in the interests of this pluralistic “compassion.” The Episcopal Church reluctantly began a trial of one of its bishops on charges of heresy, specifically because the bishop in question ordained a practicing homosexual. The matter of the acceptability of Christian homosexual practice ought to be settled on the basis of the teaching of Scripture, not out of some vague notion of “compassionate concern.” Issues such as these require us to walk the razor’s edge along the mountain heights, with dangerous cliffs to either side. We must not stray too far to the left, lest we fall from biblical teaching and call sin a harmless preoccupation. But we cannot afford to stray too far to the right, living in the fiction that in condemning both the sin and the sinner, we have somehow still “loved” the sinner and so fall from the biblical mandate of compassion. We are all fallen and need the understanding grace that is carried forth in the hands of Jesus. But we need his direction and model of a life lived with integrity before the Scriptures. For this reason Jesus could say, “Go now and leave your life of sin” (John 8:11). To this James would add a reminder to beware of the deceptive power of sin.
(4) A final lure that besets moderns is the desire to attribute to God evil intent and to blame him for misfortune. In making a distinction between the two definitions of peirasmos and adding the flat statement, “Don’t be deceived” (1:16), James clearly teaches the need for spiritual discernment. Such discernment allows one to distinguish between “trials” and “temptations.” But it also prevents one from questioning the character of God. The stumbling block that James wants us to avoid here is the tendency to ask the human question: “Why did God do that?” and so to blame God.
One of the characters in David Guterson’s award-winning novel Snow Falling on Cedars is Ishmael Chambers. Ishmael lost an arm in the U.S. assault of the island of Tarawa in the Pacific during World War II; but he lost his capacity for warmth and joy when the war separated him from his childhood love, a young Japanese-American woman named Hatsue. In the midst of his emptiness he said to his mother, “I’m unhappy…. Tell me what to do.” Her response included a firm faith in God. When confronted by the faith of his mother, Ishmael replies, “There were guys who prayed at Tarawa…. They still got killed, Mother. Just like the guys who didn’t pray. It didn’t matter either way.”28
This is a typical modern response. When confronted by the horrible randomness of misfortune, whether the deaths of a mother and her children at the hands of a drunk driver, or the more garden-variety difficulty of a flat tire, we resort to four possible conclusions: (a) God does not exist; or (b) God is evil; or (c) God is powerless to help; or (d) God does not care. None of these is worthy of our worship, so we choose to believe that God is of no consequence.
As we have seen, human beings wish so much for a world in which people (including themselves) and forces are basically good that they will themselves to believe it regardless of the evidence. This simplistic worldview is also used to buttress the position that doubts God’s existence, because it defines “good” from a human point of view. If anything that we perceive as “bad” happens, then we call into question the character of God. What is often at work here is our desperate and selfish inclination to avoid responsibility.
In late twentieth-century America, stories illustrative of this predilection abound. A thief in the process of robbing a home severely injured himself. He then had the audacity to sue the owner of the home for damages—and won the case! Or the Menendez brothers, whose defense for the brutal shotgun killing of their parents was that they had endured years of child abuse. Or Richard Allen Davis, the habitual criminal who murdered Polly Klaas, whose defense was that he had a difficult childhood. Certainly life is unfair. But this does not mean that we do not bear responsibility for our actions. It seems as if no one is accountable for his or her own actions anymore. More and more our culture claims that someone or something else is at fault.
But James calls us to learn spiritual discernment, to judge with right judgment, so that we will be able to see difficulties as opportunities for spiritual growth rather than suppose that in them is evidence that God does not care. How is this accomplished? And what does it look like?
The words of the great Oxford scholar G. B. Caird are helpful here. In his New Testament Theology Caird wrote:
To follow Jesus or to follow his example turns out to be, as popular tradition has held, the higher road, that particular morality which the gospel imposes on the Christian. But such morality does not consist in conformity to any stereotyped pattern; it consists rather in learning from Jesus an attitude of mind which comprises sensitivity to the presence of God and to the will of God which is the only authority, a constant submission of personal interest to the pursuit of that will in the well-being of others, and a confidence that, whatever the immediate consequences may appear to be, the outcome can safely be left in God’s hands.29
To follow Jesus is to learn an attitude of mind and heart that is sensitive to the will and presence of God. As we saw above, God seeks us out, and he waits for our attention and for our hearts to be turned to him. The first step is the simple but profound one of opening the door to God in prayer, of asking God to be at work in our minds and hearts, and to change us into his image. “For the Christian,” says Richard J. Foster, “heaven is not the goal, it is the destination. The goal is that ‘Christ be formed in you.’ ”30
Original Meaning
The Father of Lights (1:16–18)
AS A CAPSTONE to his argument that God does not tempt anyone, James offers a brilliant picture of the character of God: He is “the Father of the heavenly lights.” James then contrasts the development of the desire to sin (which leads to death) with its positive correlate: birth “through the word of truth,” which leads to becoming the “firstfruits of all he created.” At this point the traditional wisdom picture of two ways—the way of life and of wisdom on the one hand, and the way of death and foolishness on the other17—can no longer be doubted as part of James’s framework of reference. Self-interest opens wide the maw of death, to which the evil impulse within seeks to entice us. It expresses itself in a variety of forms, including the unbridled tongue. The way of heavenly wisdom, by contrast, leads to the good fruits of 3:17, and to life.
Since God does not send temptation, the implied question is, “What is it that God does send?” James answers that God gives good gifts, as we have already seen in his gift of wisdom (1:5). There is a rich Old Testament background for this idea. Psalm 94:12 tells us that the discipline of God is a good gift,18 and Deuteronomy 26:11 speaks of Israelites and aliens together enjoying “all the good things” the Lord has given them. The latter text is particularly significant, as it appears in the context of the firstfruits, a theme James is about to introduce. It seems certain that James, like Deuteronomy, links the ideas of “good gifts” and “firstfruits” intentionally. Perhaps he wants to call to our minds the church as the new Israel, the true people of God.
In creating the phrase “Father of lights,” James has combined two pairs of important theological ideas. The first is that God is the Father of the universe and that he has power over the heavenly luminaries as their creator (Gen. 1:14–18; Ps. 136:7; Jer. 31:35); both concepts recall the creation account. The second pair is the notion of God as Father and of God as light.
James further describes God as one “who does not change like shifting shadows.” God is light, and in him there is no shadow. God is also the creator of the heavenly luminaries, which do shift like shadows. The terms used here are technical terms denoting the movements of the heavenlies. In other words, unlike the planets and the stars, which shift and waver, there is no change in God. As Father, God is ultimately reliable. He does not change, whether in the specific (he is always and will always be the one who gives good things) or the general (God is unchangeable and good).
Clearly James is offering a contrast with astral images, if not with astrological religion itself. Some commentators19 argue that James is actually countering a belief in astral religion and the occult, which lodged in the stars the power to decide human destiny. If such a specific belief was present among his readers, it would be a clear case of divided loyalty.
There is, however, no need to postulate an active belief in a full-blown astral system. True, James’s readers were apparently seeking to absolve themselves of personal responsibility by claiming they were caught in the unpredictable hands of fate. Perhaps they were influenced by the belief of the ancients that caprice, or fate, directed human lives. Mere chance, for example, determined who was born wealthy and who was born a slave. The preeminent deity during this period was Tyche (Latin, Fortuna), the goddess Fortune or Chance. In a speech given in Pergamum in January, A.D. 167, Aelius Aristides discussed the greatness of cities in Asia Minor:
It should be remembered that all of these goods … for example the beauty of the public buildings, the magnitude of the temple precincts, the fair locations … everything which pertains to its subject, should be said to belong to fortune which gives and again takes away each of these, whenever it wishes.20
Marcus Cornelius Fronto, the teacher, friend, and writing companion of Marcus Aurelius, put it this way: “Who is there that does not know that reason is merely a term for human judgment, while Fortuna is a Goddess and the chief of Goddesses?”21 The Romans believed that fortune had granted to them the task of ruling the world. In such a milieu it is easy to see how persons wishing to blame someone or something else might obviate themselves of responsibility through the claim that their misfortune was the product of capricious chance. But such a belief does not imply an astral religion.
To cement his point, James points out that God made the heavenly bodies, as if to say that what some call fate is not really fate, for God made and controls the symbols of fate. James even claims that God purposefully intended the creation of both the heavens and of humankind, in order to heighten the contrast between God and a recourse to a general belief in fate that held humankind in its mindless changeable grip.
James’s point, then, is that ultimately God controls all of the things to which we wrongfully attribute power, whether we do so from ignorance or to avoid responsibility. God supervises and controls political forces, economic forces, Satan, Fate, and the stars. Perhaps James is contrasting God as Father of the heavenly lights with the pretenders to his throne, the forces of the political order, which are mere shadows, unstable and unreliable.
In place of the idea that the destiny of those who follow their evil desire is death, James offers for consideration an alternate path: God, he tells us, has given birth to us. The past tense here probably refers to God’s creative power and recalls that God made us for himself. While there is an inexorable element to the chain of events that ends in death, the rightful fate of humankind is to be counted among the firstfruits. This was God’s desire in creating us.
Usually three options are offered for understanding James’s phrase, “he chose to give us birth”: that James has general creation in view; or that he has the creation of Israel, God’s son, in mind (cf. Hos. 11:1: “When Israel was a child I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son”); or that he is referring to Christian converts, who are “reborn.” Given the intentional ambiguity of this phrase, it seems most prudent to assume that James was happy to allow his readers to draw upon the rich variety of all three streams, although it is obvious that in the New Testament the third tends wholly to swallow the second.
The agent God used in giving birth to us is “the word of truth.” Here is an obvious similarity to John’s Gospel, if not a direct link. “Truth” (aletheia) is one of the great themes of John’s Gospel, and the “word” (logos) dominates its prologue (John 1:1–18). That Gospel even claims that “grace and truth came through Jesus Christ” (1:17). In the Old Testament the “word of God” is nearly personified, acting as a characteristic of God himself. The dominant background here is most likely the continuing action of the spoken word of God at creation, the word that accomplishes the purpose of God (Isa. 55:11). The word of God is God’s plan revealing itself and moving to completion. That God chose to give us birth through the word of truth combines images James has already drawn: that God’s word is an active force and that God desires us to be his active cooperatives in accomplishing his purpose.
The term “firstfruits” is used in a number of different ways in the Old Testament. Sometimes, for example, it means certain offerings of Israel; but it can also refer to Israel itself, emblematic of the elect nation whose purpose it is to be a “light for the Gentiles” (Isa. 42:6) and through whom “all peoples on earth will be blessed” (Gen. 12:3). Here, then, James calls “firstfruits” all who are loyal to God, all who develop into what God calls us to be. Paul can speak of Christian converts as “firstfruits” (Rom. 16:5; 1 Cor. 16:15), and of the risen Christ as the firstfruits of many brothers and sisters (1 Cor. 15:20).
The teaching of James 1:12–18 might be summed up this way: Since you were created by God with the full potential for truth and life, avail yourself of it and do not foolishly squander it or trade it for the false lure. If you stand firm in the midst of trial, if you do not capitulate to the evil desire to blame God and thus engage in sin, you will receive the crown of life in the age to come and its foretaste in the present. Remember that God is trustworthy and wholly good, and this will sustain you in the midst of any difficulty.
Bridging Contexts
WE ARE IN danger of making three potential false steps in interpreting this passage. The first has to do with the difference between “trial” and “temptation,” since the same Greek word (peirasmos) means both. The second involves difficulties and how we view them. The third concerns the promised reward to which the text bears witness.
Trials and temptations. In 1:2–12 the NIV renders peirasmos with the English word “trial.” This word group occurs in 1:13 three times as a verb and once as an adverb; here the NIV translates peirasmos as “temptation.” This change is not the result of convenient caprice on the part of the translators of the NIV. James himself makes the distinction. In 1:2–11 “trials” are something to be endured, whereas in 1:13–14 “temptations” are something to be avoided. This is an example of polysemy, or multiple meanings of terms.
Here again the flexibility of the New Testament authors in the matter of words and their meanings is in evidence. We are not unfamiliar with this phenomenon. In English the word “sanction” bears two meanings that are opposed to each other. “Sanction” can mean “to approve,” as in, “The professor gave her sanction for a group project to aid refugee children.” But it can also intend disapproval, usually by way of penalty, as in, “Trade sanctions were leveled against them.” With respect to James 1, particular “trials” or “temptations” may have different origins, but to human eyes, difficulties, no matter their origin, are troublesome. The other factor involved is how we respond to difficulties and what this response reveals about us. A “trial” to one person may well be the arena of “temptation” for another.
This double meaning of peirasmos implies the need for spiritual discernment. It is the lot of human beings to encounter difficult situations. When we perceive them as opportunities for the growth of character and spiritual maturity, they are to be endured. But often we give in to the temptation to blame someone or something else. This, James says, we should avoid, because each of us bears responsibility for allowing temptation to grow in us. God may be the author of trials by which he intends to strengthen us, but he is not to blame if we misconstrue them as temptations that lead to sin.
The difference between peirasmos in 1:2–12 and in 1:13–14 is that in the latter, the individual in view is willing to disobey God, to attribute to God evil intent. So James emphasizes that God is not actively involved in the sending of temptation; in fact, God never tempts anyone. What makes a “test” a “temptation” is not that God has put us in such a position, but rather that we willingly disobey God by seeing misfortune as his attempt to entice us to deny him. It takes spiritual discernment to see in difficulties the possibility of growth. Those who do not are more vulnerable to the lure of the evil desire within them.
A failure to understand these distinctions can lead to any number of problems. Some will see James as making no sense at all. They read it as if James says both “God tests and tempts” and “God neither tests nor tempts.” This sort of simple reading has led many to the erroneous and sad conclusion that the Bible cannot be trusted, that it is “full of holes.” Others will see the passage as presenting various contradictory views of God. How can God be the giver of good gifts, but also the source of evil? But this is not what James believes or teaches. This stumbling block must be identified and then avoided.
Sin, evil, misfortune, and temptation. The second potential misstep that this passage brings to view involves the relationship between the problems of sin, evil, misfortune, and temptation. In fact, there are more than a few difficulties to be found under this heading. James denies that God has anything to do with evil or temptation. One of the problems here is that we tend to blur what the Bible separates; this is one reason why we often fail to distinguish between “trial” and “misfortune,” which we then blame on God.
This is especially true because tragedy and misfortune so often appear random and senseless. In the summer of 1995 a family was traveling from Chicago to Milwaukee. A portion of the brake system of a semi-truck became loose, bounced on the pavement, struck the gas tank of the family’s vehicle, and caused a horrible fire. Several of their children died. Events like this foster both nervous and very human questions of ourselves as well as of God and his character.
When something unfortunate happens, we casually call it “bad” or “evil,” because that is the way it appears to us. It is a problem or a tragedy that cuts to the heart. In practice we tend to define “good” the same way we think God does, and that God wants only “good things” for us. We also demand to know the answer to any misfortune immediately. But patience is needed, for time is a potent tool in God’s hands. The stumbling block here is that in our arrogance and ignorance, we demand the right to define what “good” is. God’s definition is often different from ours. So we need wisdom and insight from him in order to see difficulties for what they are.
This notion of the human perception of misfortune, destruction, and oppression is often tied to God’s patience and restorative intent when his people disobeyed.22 Similarly, when Paul says that he has “handed over to Satan” Hymenaeus and Alexander, that they may learn not to blaspheme (1 Tim. 1:20), he has the same restorative idea in view. Just as in James, there is no question of God’s tempting the people to sin.
We may fail to distinguish between trials, temptations, and the difficulties or misfortunes with which we associate them. In fact, we usually see them as “evils” in some sense of the word. James did not see them in this fashion. He would have us work on separating the various ideas that our culture often binds together, that is, distinguishing between “trials,” “temptations,” “misfortune,” and “evil.”
The modern world affords few such clear-cut cases of Christians encountering “difficulties” beyond those our brothers and sisters have endured under Communist rule. Recently I attended an international theological conference. While there I had occasion to speak to a man who lives in Slovakia, a part of the formerly Communist Czechoslovakia. He had suffered under Communist rule because of his faith. But it was his opinion that while it was difficult to be a Christian under Communism, it has become more difficult without it. “At least under Communism,” he said, “we had a clear perception of the enemy. Today the enemy is not so clear, and with increasing affluence, jealousy has reared its ugly head. Looking back I realize that we had opportunities under Communist rule that now seem closed to us.”
While I have no wish to minimize the horrors of totalitarian regimes, his words left an indelible mark on me. In a situation I would be tempted to view as wholly evil, he could perceive signs of good. It takes spiritual discernment to see rays of hope in the midst of darkness.
Reward. A third potential misstep has to do with the idea of reward as an inducement for faith and behavior. If we stand the trial, James says, God will reward us with the promised “crown of life.” Particularly in the Protestant tradition we are most comfortable with “salvation as a free gift.” To us the idea of a reward for living the Christian life seems distastefully like a bribe offer ed by God.
We must distance ourselves from our modern idea of “bribe” and recognize that the New Testament is comfortable with its idea of reward. In 1 Corinthians 9:24–27 Paul employs the metaphor of a race to illustrate the Christian life, and he concludes with a startling statement: “I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself might not be disqualified for the prize.” In Philippians 3:14 he speaks of pressing on to the goal and prize for which God has called him heavenward in Christ Jesus. Even Jesus spoke of reward: “Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you” (Matt. 5:12). The New Testament idea of reward is not akin to our notion of a bribe. Rather, it is a reminder of the dignity, gravity, and integrity of the calling of God to which we have responded. It is an appeal to our pure inclination and a reminder of the example of the saints who have gone before.
Contemporary Significance
JAMES’S IMAGE OF a lure that tempts us to fall from the truth aptly captures the practical application of many of the significant theological issues that he brings to our attention. We will discuss several such lures, each of which is manifest in potent and varied ways in contemporary culture.
(1) Because of the ability of sin to mask itself, a lure may appear harmless and innocent to our eyes, but in reality it has dire consequences. Take, for example, the powerful lure of success, especially if we can dress it in spiritual clothing. There is no denying that the rise of contemporary Christian music has met a great need in our culture. But Steve Moser, a veteran of the contemporary Christian music scene, recently expressed real concerns about the industry. In the beginning, he believes, contemporary Christian music “was a genuine outpouring of God’s Spirit.” But Moser has lately seen changes that disturb him, changes that were concurrent with, but not wholly the result of, the purchase of Christian record labels by secular companies.
I look at the majority of the [Christian] music I hear today and I think it’s virtually meaningless…. We’ve created the opportunity for business to happen … [and] now we’re obligated to put something out…. The bottom line is “if it is commercially viable, produce it.” … I would probably be more inclined to call the industry “commercial Christian music,” rather than “contemporary Christian music.”23
Moser here points out an effective lure: “success” in terms of the definition offered by our culture. Certainly, we think, if God is in this enterprise, then we will be successful. The members of the “prosperity” wing of American Protestantism would, of course, agree. The problem is that God’s priorities are his own, and when on occasion those priorities and “success” do overlap (such as in the “success” of Billy Graham), we should not mistake the one for the other. Sometimes God calls people to labor in vain, in fields that to our eyes appear barren. To such fields, for example, God called Jeremiah. Without God’s wisdom we might assume that the “lying prophets” who opposed Jeremiah were in fact God’s true agents (Jer. 23:9–24). Many of the contemporaries of Jeremiah made this mistake, to their ruin.
Scottie Smith, the pastor of the Christ Community Church of Franklin, Tennessee, the church home of many of the “stars” of the Christian music industry, knows this lure first-hand. He writes, “Celebrity-ism … feeds the very things against which the Scriptures warn us.”24 Success and acclaim easily crowd out the servant model the Bible places before us. This is one of the oldest of sins, the sin of pride. The fact that it is well known and yet continues to claim many victims is a testimony to the power and tenacity of sin and to the success of the hidden lure.
The last two decades have seen a spate of prominent Christian leaders and preachers caught in sins like adultery and embezzlement, sometimes in an embarrassingly public fashion. These people did not begin with an agenda that included such sins. But they allowed themselves to nurture the lie that they deserved “comfort,” even if from an illicit source. They cultivated the lie that they were above the standards of a biblical lifestyle or that they could safely dally with sin. They must have told themselves that this dalliance was harmless. But quickly it grew until it had the capacity to devour them. I know a pastor who cultivated an unwise relationship with his secretary. Although he was finally dismissed by his church board, he continues to see her, often in public. There are many sad consequences to this story, not the least of which is that the ability of this church to witness to its community has been dealt a severe blow.
(2) Another lure is the current popular belief that there is no evil impulse within us. When James discusses the evil inclination, moderns have a tough time believing him. Our age does not like to face the fact that humans have a tremendous capacity for evil. Contrary to all evidence, we seem intent on forcing ourselves to believe that human beings are essentially good and that the universe is a kind of nonspecific storehouse of safety and support.
We must take seriously the evil impulse and try to make it intelligible to our world. This is no easy task. The naive and happy New Age optimism of the actress Shirley MacLaine is one example. Another is the burgeoning popular belief in angels as friendly guardians, cut off from any biblical basis. These beliefs may make us feel better, but such beliefs in no way change what is. James teaches us what is: There are forces in us and around us that are opposed to God, and within us exists a bent to oppose God, to hide from God, to disobey. We may not like the fact that we have the capacity to sin. We may not like bearing responsibility for our actions. But however much we may wish it were not so, our wishing cannot change what is. And so James discusses this capacity for sin within us, because he does not want us to fool ourselves.
Some months ago I was teaching an introduction to the Bible course to a group of adults, many of whom had little or no previous exposure to the Bible. During our discussion of Romans, one student suddenly asked, “Are you telling us that the Bible teaches that human beings can be evil? Because I do not believe it is true!” I responded that the Bible does teach that human beings have the capacity for evil, and I offered that I thought human experience does too. How else can one explain apartheid, the horrors of the Nazi regime, the Stalinist terror, or economic exploitation here in the United States. He responded that he knew about these things, but that he still chose to believe that human beings were essentially without the capacity for evil.
James, on the other hand, knows that we possess a tremendous capacity to fool ourselves and to believe certain things simply because we wish to believe them, even against overwhelming evidence. Our task as Christians is to point out James’s insistence that there is a powerful capacity for sin and evil within human beings, and that he is right. Only if we understand this will we recognize the grave danger we are in; to treat this capacity lightly, or even worse, to fail to recognize it,25 makes us all the more susceptible to the temptation to dally in what appears to be an “innocent” sin. When we do this, we place our feet on the path that leads to sin and ultimately to death.
(3) The third lure dangled before us is the belief that sin is not really sin, so that it does not need to be taken seriously. Like Paul we need to see that there is something irrational about our behaviors in comparison with our commitments: “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do” (Rom. 7:15). Our response should be humbly to ask God for forgiveness for our sins and to pray for his assurance and assistance in negotiating the shoals of life. We are going to sin, but the crucial issue is how we respond to our sin. We will be tempted to blame God, but James wants us to come before God and ask for help. Like David we should pray, “Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin…. Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me” (Ps. 51:2, 10).
Unfortunately, we do not take seriously enough the corrosive power of sin within us. When Jesus spoke of the thought of adultery as the same as the act itself (see Matt. 5:27–28), he had in mind something similar to what James teaches here. Actions are the result of character, but actions can also shape character. This is what James means when he said that desire gives birth to sin, and then sin leads to death.
Because sin is so fertile and so prone to masking its true character, we must be vigilant concerning the lures that our own evil inclination puts forward to engage our attention, imagination, and action. Lures are not effective if they appear obvious; they are only effective if they appear as something they are not, or at least as relatively harmless. Satan will not be effective if the temptations offered to us are so outlandish that we never will pursue them. But if Satan can get us to expend all of our energy and time doing good things, so that the best things remain undone, he has won a marginal victory, and he may in fact have placed our feet on the road to ruin.
Jeremiah knew this. God’s people had rejected the Lord and followed the patterns of life practiced by their neighbors. While maintaining a belief that they were God’s people, they had rejected his standards. They fooled themselves into thinking that they could remain his people, in spite of their lack of compassion for one another. In Jeremiah 7:4–8 their falsehood is catalogued as God speaks to them:
Do not trust in deceptive words and say, “This is the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD!” If you really change your ways and your actions and deal with each other justly, if you do not oppress the alien, the fatherless or the widow and do not shed innocent blood in this place, and if you do not follow other gods to your own harm, then I will let you live in this place, in the land I gave your forefathers for ever and ever. But look, you are trusting in deceptive words that are worthless.
The people of Judah had fooled themselves into thinking that the presence of the temple alone would protect them. But on its own it had no power. Their failure to live lives of compassion and justice in the image of God would result in their punishment. It was Jeremiah’s sad task to warn them.
I am reminded of a story I recently heard about a pastor who carries placards outside funeral homes during the funerals of victims of AIDS. The placards read, “God hates fags.” While the evangelical community is in my judgment correct in teaching that God does not condone homosexual practice, it is also true that at times in our certainty that we understand God, we act in ways that are contrary to his purpose. We are not so different from those who trusted in the temple and missed the heart of God. Our certitude allows us to fall prey to the hidden lure.
James also offers a warning. While he specifically mentions the sin of accusing God of being the author of temptation, clearly other sins are in view in his outline of the development of sin. James wants us to know that there are no harmless sins. Following our own evil inclination to ascribe evil to God starts our feet on a path that suddenly leads to death, for the seeds of sin quickly grow strong, often without our awareness of it. Largely this is because sin operates by stealth and thus soon does not even appear as sin to our eyes. In 1968 Richard Nixon accepted the nomination of his party to run for the office of President of the United States. In his acceptance speech he said, “Let us begin by committing ourselves to the truth, to see it as it is, and to tell it like it is, to find the truth, to speak the truth, to live the truth.” Nine years later26 CBS News reported Nixon taking a different slant: “When a President does it, then it is not illegal.”
It is even possible that what we call “compassion” can lead to sin. Thomas C. Oden, professor of theology and ethics at Drew University, notes that in this age of absolute relativism and pluralism, heresy has taken on a new face. It used to be, says Oden, that a heretic had an “excessive regard for his own ‘truth.’ ” But the “current error does not proclaim a better truth, but that all truths are equal and none is superior…. The modern relativist may be every bit as willful [as the old-time heretic] in considering all truths ‘valid.’ ”27
Many Protestant denominations and individual Christians in practice jettison any notion of right and wrong in the interests of this pluralistic “compassion.” The Episcopal Church reluctantly began a trial of one of its bishops on charges of heresy, specifically because the bishop in question ordained a practicing homosexual. The matter of the acceptability of Christian homosexual practice ought to be settled on the basis of the teaching of Scripture, not out of some vague notion of “compassionate concern.” Issues such as these require us to walk the razor’s edge along the mountain heights, with dangerous cliffs to either side. We must not stray too far to the left, lest we fall from biblical teaching and call sin a harmless preoccupation. But we cannot afford to stray too far to the right, living in the fiction that in condemning both the sin and the sinner, we have somehow still “loved” the sinner and so fall from the biblical mandate of compassion. We are all fallen and need the understanding grace that is carried forth in the hands of Jesus. But we need his direction and model of a life lived with integrity before the Scriptures. For this reason Jesus could say, “Go now and leave your life of sin” (John 8:11). To this James would add a reminder to beware of the deceptive power of sin.
(4) A final lure that besets moderns is the desire to attribute to God evil intent and to blame him for misfortune. In making a distinction between the two definitions of peirasmos and adding the flat statement, “Don’t be deceived” (1:16), James clearly teaches the need for spiritual discernment. Such discernment allows one to distinguish between “trials” and “temptations.” But it also prevents one from questioning the character of God. The stumbling block that James wants us to avoid here is the tendency to ask the human question: “Why did God do that?” and so to blame God.
One of the characters in David Guterson’s award-winning novel Snow Falling on Cedars is Ishmael Chambers. Ishmael lost an arm in the U.S. assault of the island of Tarawa in the Pacific during World War II; but he lost his capacity for warmth and joy when the war separated him from his childhood love, a young Japanese-American woman named Hatsue. In the midst of his emptiness he said to his mother, “I’m unhappy…. Tell me what to do.” Her response included a firm faith in God. When confronted by the faith of his mother, Ishmael replies, “There were guys who prayed at Tarawa…. They still got killed, Mother. Just like the guys who didn’t pray. It didn’t matter either way.”28
This is a typical modern response. When confronted by the horrible randomness of misfortune, whether the deaths of a mother and her children at the hands of a drunk driver, or the more garden-variety difficulty of a flat tire, we resort to four possible conclusions: (a) God does not exist; or (b) God is evil; or (c) God is powerless to help; or (d) God does not care. None of these is worthy of our worship, so we choose to believe that God is of no consequence.
As we have seen, human beings wish so much for a world in which people (including themselves) and forces are basically good that they will themselves to believe it regardless of the evidence. This simplistic worldview is also used to buttress the position that doubts God’s existence, because it defines “good” from a human point of view. If anything that we perceive as “bad” happens, then we call into question the character of God. What is often at work here is our desperate and selfish inclination to avoid responsibility.
In late twentieth-century America, stories illustrative of this predilection abound. A thief in the process of robbing a home severely injured himself. He then had the audacity to sue the owner of the home for damages—and won the case! Or the Menendez brothers, whose defense for the brutal shotgun killing of their parents was that they had endured years of child abuse. Or Richard Allen Davis, the habitual criminal who murdered Polly Klaas, whose defense was that he had a difficult childhood. Certainly life is unfair. But this does not mean that we do not bear responsibility for our actions. It seems as if no one is accountable for his or her own actions anymore. More and more our culture claims that someone or something else is at fault.
But James calls us to learn spiritual discernment, to judge with right judgment, so that we will be able to see difficulties as opportunities for spiritual growth rather than suppose that in them is evidence that God does not care. How is this accomplished? And what does it look like?
The words of the great Oxford scholar G. B. Caird are helpful here. In his New Testament Theology Caird wrote:
To follow Jesus or to follow his example turns out to be, as popular tradition has held, the higher road, that particular morality which the gospel imposes on the Christian. But such morality does not consist in conformity to any stereotyped pattern; it consists rather in learning from Jesus an attitude of mind which comprises sensitivity to the presence of God and to the will of God which is the only authority, a constant submission of personal interest to the pursuit of that will in the well-being of others, and a confidence that, whatever the immediate consequences may appear to be, the outcome can safely be left in God’s hands.29
To follow Jesus is to learn an attitude of mind and heart that is sensitive to the will and presence of God. As we saw above, God seeks us out, and he waits for our attention and for our hearts to be turned to him. The first step is the simple but profound one of opening the door to God in prayer, of asking God to be at work in our minds and hearts, and to change us into his image. “For the Christian,” says Richard J. Foster, “heaven is not the goal, it is the destination. The goal is that ‘Christ be formed in you.’ ”30