James 5:12–18

ABOVE ALL, MY brothers, do not swear—not by heaven or by earth or by anything else. Let your “Yes” be yes, and your “No,” no, or you will be condemned.

13Is any one of you in trouble? He should pray. Is anyone happy? Let him sing songs of praise. 14Is any one of you sick? He should call the elders of the church to pray over him and anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord. 15And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up. If he has sinned, he will be forgiven. 16Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.

117Elijah was a man just like us. He prayed earnestly that it would not rain, and it did not rain on the land for three and a half years. 18Again he prayed, and the heavens gave rain, and the earth produced its crops.

Original Meaning

The Taking of Oaths (5:12)

“ABOVE ALL” (PRO panton) means “most importantly” or “but especially.” However, given the care with which James has developed other themes—for example, the great stress he has placed on patience—it would be odd indeed if James were saying that his message concerning oaths he regards as the single most important in the entire letter.1 Rather, the term ought to be understood as “finally” or “to sum up”; that is, James is alerting his readers that the letter is about to conclude.

Any attempt to defend the present placement of this saying must show how it connects either with what has gone before or with what comes after. As many have noted, this logion appears out of place. However, when seen as an inappropriate use of the tongue in contradistinction to the proper uses pointed out in 5:13–18, it is clear that this verse has a rightful place here. This, of course, connects the verse with what comes after. But what about the preceding section? Martin2 believes that Reicke is correct when he argues that the swearing of oaths is a sign of the impatience displayed by the poor who live under the cavalier and unchristian treatment of the wealthy in their community. Since James has counseled these poor to be patient and to wait for the deliverance of God, Reicke’s insight may well be accurate.

The point at issue in this verse is the taking of an oath, that is, invoking the name of God in order to buttress the truthfulness of what one has said. Here James is fully in line with the teaching of the Old Testament that false swearing and the giving of oaths is forbidden. Leviticus 19:12, for instance, says, “Do not swear falsely by my name and so profane the name of your God. I am the LORD” (cf. also Jer. 5:2; Hos. 4:2; Mal. 3:5).

But the issue is not entirely without wrinkle. In Genesis 22:16 God swears by his own name (cf. Heb. 6:13–18). In the passage from Leviticus just cited, “false swearing” is prohibited, leaving “truthful swearing” an open question. In the Ten Commandments the taking of an oath is not strictly prohibited, but it is limited to those matters that one can accomplish (see Ex. 20:7). Here too the issue is to avoid invoking the name of God in an oath that is false. God, after all, is the one whose words always accomplish his purpose (Isa. 55:11). Human beings, on the other hand, utter words that “will not stand up” (8:10) and that “fall to the ground” (1 Sam. 3:19).

To invoke God’s name falsely, then, is to involve God in a falsehood. The problem is, of course, that sometimes human beings utter falsehoods knowingly, but at other times we are unable to accomplish what we intend. The prohibition recognizes this and serves to limit and to exclude these unintentional infelicities. Certainly the Old Testament reveals a developing problem with conscious falsehood (see Jer. 5:2; 7:9–10).

But there are other wrinkles on the matter. In Exodus 22:10–11 an oath “before the LORD” is demanded, the point being that such an oath ensures the truthfulness of testimony. It seems, in other words, that the point of the Scriptures was to avoid using the name of the Lord in an oath concerning the future, because human beings are incapable of assuring that what they promise will come true. This makes sense in the context in James, as James has recently argued that such “certainty” is a sign of godless hybris (James 4:13–17). But in the case of testimony concerning past events, the name of the Lord serves as a guarantor of truthfulness.

Judaism developed the idea that the best policy was to avoid the use of the name of God in any oath.3 Jesus seemed to agree, adding in a startling coda such forms of oath-taking are of satanic origin (Matt. 5:34–37). He also criticized the Pharisees for what he regarded as semantic circumlocutions in the taking of oaths (23:16–22).

There is, in fact, a close similarity between James’s and Jesus’ teaching in Matthew 5:34–37. The Matthean text is studded with more detail, including every element mentioned by James.

Matthew 5:34–37	James 5:12
Do not swear at all:	Do not swear—
either by heaven, for it is God’s throne;	not by heaven,
or by the earth, for it is his footstool;	or by earth
or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the Great King.	or by anything else
And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make even one hair white or black.
Simply let your “Yes” be “Yes” and your “No,” “No”;	Let your “Yes” be yes and your “No,” no,
anything beyond this comes from the evil one.	or you will be condemned.

Some see this as evidence of the primitive nature of James, as the Matthean saying is more complex and therefore, so the logic goes, must be later. However, it is just as likely that James is drawing on a saying of Jesus and has simply shortened it. Furthermore, the idea that “simple” must mean “primitive” or “early,” and “complex” must by necessity mean late is a falsehood,4 in spite of its enduring appeal.

There are a number of parallels to this formula within Judaism. The formula in Ruth Rabba 3.18 (ascribed to Rabbi Huna) is, “The yes of the righteous is yes, and the no, no.” In the Talmud (Nedarim 20a) we read, “Never make a practice of vowing, for ultimately you will trespass in the matter of oaths.” Josephus writes in reference to the Essenes, “Every statement of theirs is surer than an oath; and with them swearing is avoided, for they think it worse than perjury. For they say that he who is untrustworthy except when he appeals to God, is already under condemnation.”5

Why does James offer this counsel? (1) to avoid the situation of Jephthah, who swore an oath that bound him to disastrous consequences (Judg. 11:30–39); (2) to ensure that Christians are not influenced by pagan oath-swearing formulae; (3) to maintain a high standard of truth in all speech; and (4) to avoid involving God in a falsehood if, by chance, what we intend we are unable to accomplish. The consequences for each of these is to fall under the judgment of condemnation, and this James wants us to avoid.

Bridging Contexts

THIS PASSAGE IS primarily concerned with prayer, and in fact touches a number of types of prayer. Perhaps the most problematic for us is the question of healing prayer. Several years ago I spoke at a small gathering of Christian leaders where the question of the “charismatic” gifts (healing, tongues, prophecy, etc.) was before us. Although a group of only twenty, we held widely divergent and firmly held beliefs. Some believed that only the gift of healing, and then only on rare occasions, was a true work of the Spirit today, while some others seemed ready to declare those who held the first view to be in need of exorcism! Because of the controversial nature of the issue of sickness, sin, and healing, we will focus on that in this section.

Recently I traveled to another city for a speaking engagement. After checking in to my hotel room I unpacked, washed my face, and turned on the television. I had not been cruising through the stations long before I had found the local Christian station and heard a preacher say, “Sickness is caused by Satan, and God wants you to be well.” Later, referring to prayers of healing that are apparently without effect, he said, “You have got to have enough faith; otherwise God will not heal you.” Such statements betray a decidedly unbiblical approach to the question of sickness. What can we say about the matter, based on the evidence of the New Testament?

(1) While the New Testament does argue that sickness can be the result of sin, this is not necessarily the case. In John 9:1–5 Jesus and the disciples encountered a man born blind. The question of the disciples, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” betrayed their belief in the necessary link between sin and sickness. Jesus did not share their presumption. He responded that this particular malady was not due to any specific sin at all. In short, while sickness is often related to sin, it is not necessarily so. For this reason we should be slow to ascribe to any sickness a source rooted in sin or the demonic.

(2) God can and does use sickness and affliction for his purposes. In 2 Corinthians 12:7–10 Paul discusses his “thorn in [the] flesh,” which he calls a “messenger of Satan.” He relates that he prayed to be relieved of this affliction. If ever there was a test case for the theology of the televangelist I was watching, this is it. Satan had afflicted Paul, and Paul was a man of unquestioned faith. Yet Paul says that God allowed this affliction in order to keep him humble. What was apparently a physical affliction (Paul calls it “a thorn in my flesh”) was used by God for a spiritual purpose. What is more, Paul, as a result of prayer, understood it in this fashion. He was able to bear the affliction because God revealed to him its purpose. This is precisely the point James made in 1:5.16

(3) The ability of Jesus to perform the miraculous has nothing at all to do with the “faith” of the sick person. Jesus does not “need” the faith of the sick person in order to heal, as if he requires some external boost of energy to be effective. The question, actually, is the quality of faith. Jesus often did not perform “miracles” when he discerned that the result would be belief in his ability as a wonder-worker, as opposed to belief in his person and message.

This comes through strongly in John 6:60–66, a passage that follows the feeding of the five thousand and the difficult teaching of Jesus that his disciples must eat the flesh and drink the blood of the Son of Man. John then writes that many of his disciples left him. They had seen his signs and “believed” (cf. John 2:11), yet their belief was anemic. It had no staying power. They wanted a Jesus they could possess only on their own terms. Jesus desires a faith that penetrates behind the miraculous to the core of his message and of his person, that understands and accepts him on his terms.

(4) Since sickness can be caused by sin and even by demonic possession, Jesus was interested in healing. This is no less true in our day. Sometimes the sin involved is addiction to alcohol or other substances that causes us to ignore our responsibilities to family and community. Sometimes it is a penchant to sinful behaviors, such as physical or sexual abuse. Sometimes it is an emotional sickness caused by bitterness or envy. In all of these areas, and many others, God desires to heal. And he calls us to pray. Many of these themes are further developed in the various types of prayer James describes here. To these we shall now turn.

Contemporary Significance

AT HEART, THIS passage is about prayer, concerning which James discusses a wide variety of types: prayer and joy in adversity, prayer for the sick, the prayer of confession within community, and the prayer of the righteous.

Prayer and joy in adversity. In 5:13 James counsels prayer in adversity, and he links this prayer to joy in the face of adversity. At times our reticence to embrace pain and loss is understandable, for it is often difficult to discern God’s grace.17 Several persons close to me have recently found themselves in such situations: One couple is mourning their murdered child, another couple has learned that one of them has inoperable cancer. In scenarios such as these, we need to be honest and admit that God’s ways are often inscrutable to us.

Not all adversity is as difficult to bear as these, but to find joy amid any adverse situation is, frankly, alien to our culture. We inhabit a social and cultural world in which a great premium is placed on the elimination of discomfort. For example, our television sets advertise comfort in everything from leather car upholstery to sofa-recliners to lower house payments to searching for a dentist; such commercials demonstrate that Americans have an appetite for the elimination of stress and pain.

In the face of this potent cultural norm evangelicals need to go against the grain and appropriate a biblical understanding of adversity. James has provided several steps for us to follow. The first is to see that God uses adversity in the interests of spiritual preparation. Hannah More (1745–1833) was born to privilege near Bristol, England. As a young woman she was the friend of Sir Joshua Reynolds, Edmund Burke, and the actor David Garrick. She became a famous poet and dramatist, but her deepening friendship with John Newton, the converted former slave trader, deepened her interest in spiritual things. She began to see her powerful desire for personal fame as incompatible with the spiritual life, and increasingly she was uncomfortable with the social scene in London. She finally “retired” to the area near Bristol, where she suffered from asthma and bronchitis. In the 1780s she became active in the campaign to end the slave trade, working with John Newton, William Wilberforce, and the Clapham Sect. She said:

Affliction is the school in which great virtues are acquired and in which great characters are formed. It is like a spiritual gymnasium in which the disciples of Christ are trained in robust exercise, hardy exertion and severe conflict.

We do not hear of military heroes in peacetime, nor of the most distinguished saints in the quiet and unmolested periods of church history. The courage in the warrior and the devotion in the saint continue to survive, ready to be brought into action when perils beset the country or trials assail the Church, but it must be admitted that in long periods of inaction both are susceptible to decay.18

But prayer in adversity also urges us to renounce the materialism and the self-centeredness of the world. This has been a constant theme in James. This is also stock wisdom, although our culture seems to ignore it. “Rule your desires, lest your desires rule you,” said Publius Syrus.19 St. Serafim of Sarow (1749–1833) once said:20

It is better for us to despise what is not ours, i.e., the temporal and passing, and desire our own, i.e. incorruption and immortality. For when we shall be incorruptible and immortal … we shall be joined in a union with God surpassing the mind, like the heavenly minds. For we shall be like the angels, and sons of God, “being the sons of the resurrection” (Lk. 20:36).

Adversity is also a sign of God’s love and care, and through prayer we can begin to recognize it as such. Hannah More wrote:

If a surgeon were to put into the hand of a wounded patient the probe or the scalpel, how tenderly would he treat himself! How skin-deep would be the examination, how slight the incision! The patient would escape the pain, but the wound might prove fatal. The surgeon therefore wisely uses his instruments himself. He goes deep perhaps, but not deeper than the case demands. The pain may be acute, but the life is persevered.

Thus Him whose hand we are, is too good and loves us too well to trust us with our own surgery. He knows that we will not contradict our own inclinations, that we will not impose on ourselves any voluntary pain, however necessary the infliction, however healthful the effect. God graciously does this for us Himself because otherwise He knows it would never be done.21

In another passage Hannah More combines the renunciation of the world, spiritual preparation, and the joy that comes in the face of adversity.

It is among the mercies of God that he strengthens servants by hardening them through adverse circumstances, instead of leaving them to languish under the shining but withering sun of unclouded prosperity. When they cannot be attracted to Him by gentler influences, He sends these storms and tempests which purify while they alarm. Our gracious Father knows how long the happiness of eternity will be for His children.22

Still another reason that suffering is the lot of Christians is that Christ suffered. In Colossians 1:24 Paul wrote, “Now I rejoice in what was suffered for you, and I fill up in my flesh what was lacking in regard to Christ’s afflictions, for the sake of his body, which is the church.” Paul reminds us that we are to be fellow sufferers with Christ by participating in “the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings” (Phil. 3:10).

There is a kind of suffering that is redemptive suffering, a difficult concept for us to understand, since we share the culture of recliners and ease. Our whole society is dedicated to avoiding suffering. Richard Foster, in his book Prayer: Finding the Heart’s True Home, notes that we need to find value in suffering. Jesus was a man of sorrows, Foster reminds us. Christians who speak of “victory” have perhaps missed what Foster calls the “sacrament of suffering.” There is a triumph to suffering, but it goes through suffering, and not around it.23

Finally, prayer allows us to understand what God is forming in us through this suffering. Sue Monk Kidd writes of an experience she had once while on a spiritual retreat, an experience that exposes our culturally imposed need for frenetic activity that we so glibly confuse with progress:

One day after morning prayers, I walked to the edge of the pond and sat on the grass. I listened to the wind sigh over the water and tried to be still, to simply be there and wait in the moment. But almost instantly my inner chaos rose up. The need to keep moving, to act, to solve everything overpowered me. I got to my feet.

As I returned to the guest quarters, I noticed a monk, ski cap pulled over his ears, sitting perfectly still beneath a tree. There was such reverence in his silhouette, such tranquil sturdiness, that I paused to watch. He was the picture of waiting.

Later I sought him out. “I saw you sitting beneath the tree—just sitting there so still. How is it that you can wait so patiently in the moment? I can’t seem to get used to the idea of doing nothing.”

He broke into a wonderful grin. “Well, there’s the problem right there, young lady. You’ve bought into the cultural myth that when you’re waiting you’re doing nothing.”

Then he took his hands and placed them on my shoulders, peered straight into my eyes and said, “I hope that you’ll hear what I’m about to tell you. I hope you’ll hear it all the way down to your toes. When you’re waiting, you’re not doing nothing. You’re doing the most important something there is. You’re allowing you soul to grow up. If you can’t be still and wait, you can’t become what God created you to be.”24

The wisdom of this monk is clear. When we wait before God, as James says, he allows us to see what he is forming in us. Prayer is the necessary discipline.

Prayerful contemplation allows us to slow down, to let our soul “grow up” and catch a glimpse of God’s purpose in allowing us to experience affliction. But we are not good at waiting. We are not good at being still before God. Before my wife and I moved to Chicago, we lived in Northern California. For some fifteen years I had led backpacking trips into the Sierra Nevada mountains, much of the time with groups of Christian students. Many of these students had never been in the mountains before, and five days in the mountains, hiking as high as twelve thousand feet, allowed them to distance themselves from the crush and pull of their lives and to gain a new appreciation for those “important things” of which the monk spoke. A typical plan was to find camp early on the fourth day and to spend the afternoon on “solo.” I would send the students around the lake or down the river to be alone for six hours. Some of them had never had an experience like this. I remember quite clearly one sixteen-year-old say, “I can’t do it, I’ll be bored! I’ve never been alone for more than fifteen minutes!” To her surprise, she liked the experience.

On one occasion a young man was suffering grievously from a difficult and even dangerous family situation. We had spent many hours speaking of this circumstance over the previous months, and he was bewildered by it. When the solo time was up, he returned to camp, silent but somehow calm. Later that evening he told me that during this quiet time of prayer, God had revealed something that surprised him, but the more he thought about it the more sense it made. God had told him that his own family struggle was training him in patience and in encouragement.

Prayer for the sick. When James instructs his readers to ask the elders to pray and to anoint them with oil when sick, he leads us to the matter of healing prayer. Richard Foster tells the story of his first experience with healing prayer. It involved a man who had led a mission of thirty-three men in World War II. They found themselves pinned down by enemy gunfire. He prayed all night for deliverance, but instead all but six men were killed. This experience left him a confirmed atheist. But since that day he had not been able to sleep. Foster asked if he could pray for the man, who agreed. The prayer was for emotional healing and included, as an afterthought, the ability to sleep through the night. The man returned a week later with this report: “Every night I have slept soundly, and each morning I have awakened with a hymn on my mind. And I am happy … happy for the first time in twenty-eight years.”25 This experience convinced Foster that the healing ministry of Jesus is intended for the whole person—physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual.

Many in the evangelical community are skeptical of healing prayer. This is not necessarily a bad thing. Healthy agnosticism prevents us from being deceived by the antichrists, who also can work signs and wonders.26 But James says we are to be about the task of healing prayer. Richard Foster offers four steps in this regard.27 (1) We must listen to God and to people, and allow our spirits to discern the Holy Spirit. (2) We must ask—with boldness. When his friend Melanchthon was sick, Luther “besought the Almighty with great vigor … quoting from Scripture all the promises I could remember.”28 (3) We must believe. Foster calls us to exercise the confident assurance in the faithfulness of God. (4) We must give thanks to God for his compassion and his mercy.

From birth until I left home for college, I attended a fine evangelical church near San Francisco. It was a church not hostile to obvious displays of the power of the Holy Spirit, but not one that encouraged them. However, there was a lady in the church who, years before, at about the age of sixty, had undergone surgery, during which the physicians discovered cancer laced through her viscera. They abandoned the surgical plan and informed her that she had at most six months to live. She asked the pastor and elders to anoint her with oil and pray for healing, which they did. Six months later a second surgery was done, and to the surprise of the surgeons, there was no cancer to be found. The woman lived into her nineties, a witness to the power of prayer.

However, not everyone we pray for will be healed. A physician friend of mine who is also a devout Christian confided in me that over the years he had grown tired of and even angry about the pastors who entered the rooms of patients with a too smug false surety and confidence. “Often, not always, but often,” he said, “they promise a good deal more than gets delivered.” His heart is for the patients, whose faith may waver as a result. These pastors, my friend believes, have yet to understand the “sacrament of suffering.”

Richard Foster says that there are any number of reasons why healing does not take place. Heading the list is the possibility that we have misinterpreted the focus of our prayer when the Spirit prompts us to pray. Others include a failure to use the available medical resources because we do not wish to see medical science as an avenue God can use for healing. Perhaps we have not prayed specifically enough. In any event, Foster wisely directs us away from laying the blame on the patient and urges us always to act with compassion, being sensitive to the pain and weakened state of the patient.29

Confession and community. James tells us to confess our sins to each other and to pray for one another. Here surfaces his passion for true spiritual community, as is seen also in his use of the term “brothers” throughout the letter.

James asks us to confess to each other publicly for at least two reasons. (1) It is the practice of vulnerability. The church to which James wrote was rife with arrogance, power politics, and dissension. In order to combat these forces James here urges public vulnerability. Proverbs says, “A gentle answer turns away wrath” (Prov. 15:1), and James here offers similar advice. The practice of vulnerability and confession will cool tempers and help heal the divisions within the church. James is advocating the model of Jesus, to become the servant and to become vulnerable before others. As well, confession of wrongs committed against sisters and brothers is a sure path to interpersonal healing.

(2) Richard Foster points out that both Moses and Daniel, although innocent, identified themselves with the sins of their people.30 On Mount Sinai Moses asks God to forgive the people for their sin regarding the golden calf, and if God will not, Moses offers his own life (Ex. 32:31–32). Daniel prays, “We have sinned and done wrong … we have not listened … we have not obeyed the Lord our God” (Dan. 9:5–10). To this list we can add Nehemiah (see Neh. 1:6), and of course, Jesus, who identified with us unto death.

James calls us to put aside vain personal concerns and willingly shoulder a responsibility not technically ours. In this fashion we become the community of the faithful. When the allies liberated the Ravensbrück concentration camp, a scrap of paper was found next to the body of a dead child. On it was written a prayer:

O Lord, remember not only the men and women of good will, but also those of ill will. But do not only remember the suffering they have inflicted on us; remember the fruits we bought, thanks to this suffering: our comradeship, our loyalty, our humility, the courage, the generosity, the greatness of heart which has grown out of all this. And when they come to judgment, let all the fruits that we have borne be their forgiveness.31

The prayer of the righteous. The final type of prayer James mentions is that of the righteous person. Such a prayer is powerful because the righteous person has discerned God’s leading already. Such wise saints are found in every congregation and deserve the careful attention of church leadership, even if the church leaders are successful “business” types. But patient supplication is also beneficial in that God rewards the persistence of the widow who prays day and night (Luke 18:1–8). Elijah is singled out because his heart was sensitive to God. The point here is that sin hinders our ability to pray. God certainly hears the prayers of the sinful, but sin dulls our sensitivity to God, and we become less and less in tune with him. This is what James meant in 4:3 when he scolded his brothers and sisters for asking wrongly.

James also says that the prayer of the righteous person is powerful and effective. As we have seen, the righteous person is in touch with the heart of God. Many people like this speak of a sensation of energy flowing through and from them when they pray for others, especially when they lay their hands on them. Richard Foster knows this sensation and adds, “I cannot make the flow of heavenly life happen, but I can stop it. If I resist or refuse to be an open conduit for God’s power to come into a person, it will stop.”32 While many within the evangelical camp are less enthusiastic than Foster concerning the contemporary display of the Spirit’s power in this fashion, all of us can agree that we are to be conduits of God’s love, but that we can and, sadly, often do serve to block its flow.

Original Meaning

Prayer (5:13–18)

WHILE THE MOST obvious feature of this section may seem to be healing, more specifically, the prayer over and anointing of the sick (v. 15), the true theme of the passage is prayer (v. 16). The entire section is caught up by issues involving prayer, as prayer is mentioned in every verse. James here deals with the prayer of the individual (v. 13), the prayer of the elders (vv. 14–15), the prayers of friends and companions for one another (v. 16), and finally the prayer of the righteous prophet Elijah (vv. 17–18).6

The first issue raised is that of suffering (v. 13a). This clearly forms a bridge to 5:7–11. We also see here how James is bringing his letter to a close, as this theme formed the first issue raised in the letter (1:2). James is well aware that life, and perhaps especially the Christian life, is one in which we experience trouble—and in such a way that we may feel tempted to call the goodness of God and of our fellow human beings into question. In such times James advocates neither anger nor stoic resignation, for the former poisons the spirit and the latter dulls the mind. Instead, he advocates prayer. It is a response that allows us to be active and positive and keeps us in communication with God.

Some see this verse as combining a declarative statement with an imperative: “There is among you one who suffers. He should pray!” Yet whether this or the more traditional reading (an interrogative followed by an imperative) is chosen, the force is the same. In times of distress, the best recourse is to prayer.

The Greek word for “trouble” here is kakopatheo, which means “to suffer misfortune”; this word is normally not used of illness. Davids offers the opinion that the word indicates not a specific misfortune, but rather the “inner experience of having to endure misfortune.”7 As in chapter 1, James is not advocating a prayer for the removal of the cause of trouble so much as for the strength to endure the present troublesome situation.

Then James discusses the case of those who are happy. The word he uses (euthymeo) conveys something far more than the superficial happiness dependent upon circumstance. Rather, it refers to a deeply rooted happiness, a contentment of the heart.8 James is referring to the believer who, through prayer, can be in good spirits even when transitory conditions are difficult because of a deep-seated trust in the trustworthiness of God. The word translated “sing songs of praise” (psallo) originally meant “to play the harp.” It is used frequently in the Psalms, as one would expect (e.g., Ps. 33:2; 98:4–5; 149:3).

In this verse of “trouble” and being “happy,” it is not unlikely that James has in mind the psalms of lament, which feature an honest questioning of God that seems to border on doubt, but which always conclude with a statement of praise and trust. The psalmist may feel abandoned: “But now you have rejected and humbled us” (44:9); but always this “doubt” is in the context of the covenant relationship—“Rise up and help us; redeem us because of your unfailing love” (44:26). James likewise wants his readers to remember that God desires and deserves our prayers and praise in both difficult and pleasant times.

Having dealt with two occasions for prayer, James now turns to a third, illness. The word for “sick” is astheneo, which has a wide range of meanings having to do with weakness of any kind. It is the word Paul used to signify his “thorn in flesh,” classifying it as a “weakness” he was glad to bear, for his weakness allowed Christ’s power to be evident in him (2 Cor 12:7–10). But as Davids points out,9 there are reasons for concluding that astheneo here is more narrow in meaning, that is, physical illness. The use of the word sozo (“to make whole”) and the participle ton kamnonta (“the sick person”) in 5:15, and the use of kakopatheo for distress apart from illness, all indicate that James means physical illness in 5:14.

The sick person should call the elders of the congregation to come, to pray over him, and to anoint him with oil. Proskaleomai (“to call”) suggests that the situation is dire and requires measures that are somewhat extreme. The word “elders” is used in the Gospels of Jewish leaders in the synagogue, but throughout the remainder of the New Testament it signifies leaders in the Christian church.10 The entire group of these local leaders is to be called. James knows nothing of a particular person or charisma known as a “faith healer/healing,” such as some claimed to have and was recognized by Paul in the Corinthian church (1 Cor. 12:9, 28, 30). That is, we are not dealing with an example of “faith healing” here. Rather, the act of prayer and anointing for healing is undertaken by the recognized leaders of the church. In 5:13 the person in “trouble” was urged to pray for himself or herself; here the sick person is asked to call others to minister.

Two actions are to be undertaken. The sick person is to be “prayed over.” To pray for healing was not unknown within Judaism (see Ps. 35:13; 41:4.). Regarding the anointing, the grammar is not clear whether the oil is to be applied before or during the prayer, and it is probably of little importance. It is also unclear if hands are to be laid on the sick person, although this is not unlikely. The absence of any clear direction to “lay hands on” the sick person is surprising, given the practice of Jesus (Mark 6:5) and his followers (Acts 9:17). Of course, the “laying on of hands” might be presupposed in the application of oil.

It is obvious that the basis for this action is the firm belief that God is the source of healing, for the anointing is to be done “in the name of the Lord.” There are four possibilities as to the precise implication of the phrase.11 It could mean (1) by calling on the name of the Lord (cf. Luke 10:17), or (2) by an appeal to the power associated with the name of the Lord (cf. Acts 3:6), or (3) as one who has been commissioned by the Lord (cf. Gal. 1:1, 15), or (4) consciously assembled as a Christian community (cf. 1 Cor. 5:4). Ultimately, it matters little, for the point is that the Lord is at work in the actions of the elders, who are God’s representatives. Any healing is due to his power and action, not to any human effort.

Anointing the sick with oil is mentioned twice elsewhere in the New Testament. In Luke 10:34 Jesus, in relating the parable of the Good Samaritan, says that the Samaritan bandaged the wounds of the man left for dead by the robbers, “pouring on oil and wine.” The other reference is Mark 6:13, something of a locus classicus for modern faith healers. Although Mark 6:5 says Jesus could do no miracles in Nazareth, the same verse relates that he healed a few people, though he apparently did not use oil. In the next pericope Jesus commissions the Twelve, and Mark tells us (v. 13) that they anointed the sick with oil. It is not insignificant that in this verse the anointing of the sick is clearly separate from exorcism. The implication is that Jesus discerns a difference between sickness caused by natural means and sickness that is of satanic origin.

As in the previous section, “the Lord” must be Jesus. This tells us that although James is nearly without a discernible Christology, what Christology he does possess is high.12

Two reasons are generally given for the anointing.13 (1) Some scholars see it as symbolic of God’s unceasing interest in his people during times of duress. It was an essential feature of the developing faith of Israel that what God deemed best for Israel was not always what Israel deemed best. Thus, the great prophets could argue that the military and political defeat of Israel and Judah signaled not the impotence of God, but rather God’s power and purpose at work. With this background in view, the anointing mentioned here is not done with a certainty that God will heal, but with the certainty that God cares. To pray with certainty that God will heal seems to contravene one of the prominent themes of the letter, namely, to endure difficulties because God can use them to bring about his purpose in our lives.

(2) Other scholars see this anointing as practical and medicinal. Olive oil was thought to bear medicinal powers of wide application in the ancient world.14 Its use here was clearly with the expectation that physical healing could occur.15

Whatever the precise definition and meaning of the act of anointing, it is “the prayer offered in faith” (or, better, “the fervent request offered in faith”), not the anointing, that makes the sick person well (v. 15). This is a point frequently missed in the intricacies of the matter of anointing. The emphasis should fall on the “fervent faith,” that is, a prayer that expresses trust in God and that flows from a deep commitment to God (cf. vv. 17–18). The prayer and the faith is, evidently, that of the elders, since only the prayer of the elders is mentioned. The question of precisely what kind of “faith” is in view and therefore efficacious is an important one, but this is a matter better treated in the Bridging Contexts section.

This prayer carries with it two results: (1) The sick person is made well (sozo); and (2) the Lord will raise him up (egeiro). The verb sozo is most often used in the New Testament in reference to eschatology and the salvation of believers, and this may be the intent of language here (which implies the resurrection—cf. “will raise him up”). Because of this, a number of commentators see this issue as about spiritual death, not physical health. The verb “to be healed” (iaomai) in 5:16 is normally reserved for physical healing, but can be used for spiritual healing.

The chief issue, then, is whether the future verbs “to save,” “to raise up,” and “to be forgiven” refer to eschatological and therefore spiritual healing, or to physical healing. While these verbs can be made to bear eschatological nuance, the weight of the grammatical and lexical evidence is on the side of a physical understanding of the passage. After all, the person about whom this is written is still alive! While it is possible that James has both in view, it is difficult to escape the conclusion that at the very least he is speaking of physical healing of an illness. To avoid this conclusion on the basis of a predetermined theology does injustice to the text. On the other hand, James has counseled patience in the face of affliction. The key to resolving this apparent dilemma is found in the discerning prayer of the elders.

The first sentence of verse 16, where James implies that sin can cause sickness, goes with verse 15. This is sound New Testament teaching, fully in harmony with the remainder of the New Testament. But the New Testament does not teach that all sickness is the result of sin (see John 9:1–3), or that all sin causes sickness, or that God always desires to remove maladies from besetting us (cf. Paul’s thorn in the flesh in 2 Cor. 12:7–10). But James clearly teaches here that sickness caused by sin can be alleviated through public confession and prayer for healing. The fact that elders are not mentioned in verse 16a does not necessarily indicate that a new case is in view, but rather buttresses the idea that the prayer of faith pertains to elders and to others as well.

In verse 16b James introduces a new line of thought, the example of “a righteous man.” The prayer of such a person, says James, is both “powerful and effective.” The “righteous man” is the one who is committed to doing God’s will and to cultivating a relationship with God that knows God’s heart. The participle energoumene means “is able to do” (if understood in the middle voice) or “is enabled to do [by the Spirit of God]” (if understood in the passive voice). Either choice is feasible grammatically. In either case the prayer has a powerful effect. Such a prayer can have noticeable consequences on a person whose sickness is the result of sin, as long as (or especially if) the sin has been confessed.

James has already made reference to three Old Testament exemplars (Abraham, Rahab, and Job). To this list he now adds a fourth, the prophet Elijah, to whom he appeals as an example of a person of faith. For Elijah prayer was a function of faith and trust in God, even in the face of a difficult situation.

Elijah was a man “like us” (homoipathes hemin), an expression that conveys the sense of the same limitations. Luke uses the same expression in Acts 14:15, when Paul and Barnabas attempt to convince the citizens of Lystra that they are not divine beings, but people just like anyone else. James’s point is that such a prayer is possible for the people he is addressing. The phrase “prayed earnestly” (or, more literally, “by prayer he prayed”) is a Semitism, conveying the sense of intense prayer. Because Elijah was a man of sincere faith, he discerned God’s heart, and his prayer was honored by God.

James refers here to the account given in 1 Kings 17–18. First Kings does not tell us specifically that Elijah prayed for rain to cease and then for rain to start again, but his praying is implied throughout the story (cf. his prayer for the widow’s son in 17:20–24 and for fire from heaven in 18:36–37). The reference to “three and a half years” is surprising, because 18:1 mentions simply that the drought ended “in the third year.” Likely James, similar to Luke (Luke 4:25), is reflecting apocalyptic symbolism, in which “three and a half” is a number of sinister omen, since it is half of the number seven, the perfect number (cf. Dan. 7:25; Rev. 12:6, 14; 13:5).