I always have mixed feelings when I am about to teach the Book of James. It seems as though James and I go into a room . . . and only one of us comes out . . . and it’s not me. And if you look in the room after James exits you will see me in a crumpled-up pile on the floor. It’s reminiscent of an old “Beetle Bailey” cartoon, where there’s a frame showing “Beetle” after “Sarge” is done with him . . . Beetle is left lying in a pile of arms and legs all akimbo.
Yes, the one thing about the Book of James that is so terrifying to me is that he always goes right for my heart, my character . . . no holds barred. He doesn’t soft-soap it. And when he is finished with me, I see myself as I really am, and I’m not too happy with it. He cuts away all the ego that I associate with my good deeds, the honorable veneer, the respectful greetings in the marketplace . . . I’m left with nothing of my own. And there I am in a pile on the floor, and then he leaves the room. But though it hurts, it’s the best medicine for me, because he doesn’t leave me alone. He leaves me with something to fix me . . . a humble return to the cross.
As he leaves he gives me the solution . . .
“If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all men generously and without insult, and it will be given him” (1:5).
And then he adds,
“Humble yourselves in the presence of the Lord, and He will exalt you” (4:8-10).
“But,” I plead as he walks out the door, “what did I do that was so wrong?” He responds,
“Do not hold your faith in our Lord Jesus Christ of glory with an attitude of partiality” (2:1)
Ahhh . . . there it is . . . partiality. We all know what that is. It’s playing favorites with someone because they elevate you before men. It’s honoring the rich, the famous, as if they were godlier. It’s trying to get status before men, instead of humility before God. It’s hoping someone notices your humble deeds that you did for their viewing. It’s ignoring those who aren’t as well off as we. It’s that irritable response when someone invades our space. And it goes on and on.
It would seem that when one teaches the Book of James one could escape self-analysis since, as a teacher, one is applying the book to their audience . . . telling them to shape up . . . loading guilt on them, not on themselves. But this is not the case with the Book of James. James is talking about “you,” the reader, which becomes clear from all the second person pronouns throughout the book (“you” or “your” occurs 112 times). So even though one teaches or preaches the book, he cannot escape the fact that James is accusing him, the reader. So to take the book and use it for the condemnation of others, as is so often done, and allow yourself to escape the intense scrutiny that James intended, is to do exactly what James is warning the reader not to do . . . become more self-righteous than others (2:4). In other words, the way the book is taught reveals more about the teacher than it does the one at whom the teacher points his finger (3:1).
So, now you can see why I have such a difficult time with this book . . . because James is constantly sitting next to me, commenting on every action . . . clearing his throat so as to get my attention, “Ahem . . . Ahem.” If I express irritation at a driver in traffic, I hear him clear his throat and say, “Does a fountain send out from the same opening both fresh and bitter water?” (2:13). Or if I ignore someone needy for someone more prosperous, I hear him say something like, “Isn’t that putting the rich man up front and the poor man at your footstool?” (2:2-3). Or perhaps it might be my overly frugal nature when there is a believer in need and he will say, “Isn’t that telling them to be warmed and filled of themselves (2:15-16) . . . well, isn’t it?” And then he always follows it up with . . .”Where is that coming from . . . God? . . . or your covetous nature? (1:13-16) . . . make up your mind . . . And don’t say that your partiality and anger is from God (1:20) . . . which leaves only one other place it can come from . . . demons” (3:14-16).
He’s there in every dialogue that I have . . . with my wife, my pastor, my Sunday School class, the nursing home, while driving the car in traffic . . . well you know . . . all the time.
And then after I’m done studying the book, he still stays with me.
“Ah hem! Ah hem!” he states. Then he continues, “Where did that come from? It wasn’t from God, now was it? (1:13-16).
One more thing . . . there is something James wants you to know that is much more hidden, much more unrealized, much more frightening (5:19-20). It is the self-delusion that one is godly based on wrong thinking. He has confused the world’s values for God’s truth (1:13-16). And since he doesn’t know the Scriptures he has no ability to perceive his own depraved reasoning. He thinks he is doing just fine (3:14). He doesn’t ever hear James’ “Ahem . . . Ahem!” or James’ subtle condemnation. Instead he leaves the book thinking James has confirmed his spirituality, and by comparison has confirmed others’ lack of spirituality. So be sure you listen for James, because if you don’t hear him, there’s something wrong.
So, as I upload the “Introduction to James” (located under “Commentaries,” “James”), I would like to introduce you to James, a bondservant (1:1) of our Lord Jesus Christ of Glory (2:1). He wrote this book and I want you to listen to him for a time. He will teach you the Scriptures. Oh, by the way, once you read his book he will not leave you either. You’ll be so glad you met him. He will walk beside you . . . and if you let him . . . he will keep taking you to the same place . . . over and over again . . . to a hill just outside of Jerusalem . . . where the world was changed . . . a place where once stood . . . the old rugged cross (4:10, 5:15).
“Ahem! Ahem!”
[Refer to “Introduction to James,” listed under “Commentaries,” “James.”]
[For more information on the wisdom of God (revelation) and the wisdom of man (lust), and how man operates from lust but calls it godly, see “The Knowledge of Good and Evil,” under “Articles.”]
Written: Dr. Charles Baylis, June 3, 2015
Photo Credit: The Mount of Beatitudes looking across to the Sea of Galilee, Photo by Charles Baylis, March 11, 2010