What Jesus' Brother James Wanted Us to Know | Verse 1, Part 1 | From Skeptic to Slave
James is not only a biblical book worth studying, but James himself is a man worth getting to know. We can learn a lot about James when we piece together his biography. His was a bit of a roller-coaster, though not in the up-and-down fashion you might think. His life, when considered in light of his response to his half-brother, Jesus, was one that started with skepticism and remained that way for much of his life. It was a rollercoaster that climbed that steady grade of unbelief until his pride finally fell.
Surely, James had the thoughts that would accompany the skepticism: “My Jesus is the Messiah? No way.”
The last time anything supernatural had happened was about 400 years ago when God spoke through Malachi, saying, “I will send you Elijah the prophet” (Mal 4:5). James had certainly not seen Elijah reappearing among his people, so what was he to think about his half-brother, Jesus, being the Messiah that would supposedly accompany Elijah’s appearing? Believing this would be tantamount to an American being told that the map to the national treasure left behind from the original Jamestown settlement was buried in their own backyard.
Then again, James undoubtedly knew of his own parents’ testimony. Mary was a godly woman who feared the Lord and would surely have been diligent to teach her children everything that God had said both in His Word and then in person, via the angel, right?
She could recall the angel, Gabriel, announcing to her that she was going to conceive a baby by the Holy Spirit as well as her immediate visit to her older relative, Elizabeth, who was also pregnant, but by her husband, Zechariah. The ages of Zechariah and Elizabeth, however, were proof enough that this pregnancy was a special work of the Lord, not to mention the fact that this baby would herald the arrival of the baby-to-be in Mary’s womb. Just the sound of Mary’s voice upon entering to see Elizabeth made John jump—en eutero(!).
When Jesus was finally born in Bethlehem, they were visited by the shepherds who recounted their angelic visitation prompting their arrival. “Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart” (Lk 2:19). These were lasting memories that were infinitely weighty. This was no mere sentimentalism.
Then there was the jaw-slacking psalm uttered by Simeon, the priest, when Joseph and Mary went to the temple in Jerusalem to perform all of their purification and sacrificial duties that followed childbirth—especially that of a first-born son.
“Lord,” the aged priest extolled, “now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; For me eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel” (2:29–32). Joseph and Mary “marveled at what was said about him” (vs. 33).
It is not a far fetch to imagine them recounting these events to all of their children as they grew up under the same roof with Jesus. It was a brood of at least seven kids altogether: James (the author of this book), Joses, Judas (the author of Jude), Simon, and at least two sisters (Mk 6:3; c.f. Matt 13:55).
What parents wouldn’t share about their epic journey to Egypt to escape the bloodthirsty Herod who heard from the Magi that the king of the Jews had been born? Indeed, this wouldn’t be a regaling conversation, but a weighty one about God’s providence in their lives. Herod had been spending his entire life killing people inside and outside of his own family in order to secure his power over as many Roman regions as possible. A king had been born? Herod did what Herod did best after realizing the Magi had ignored his directive to return to him once they discovered the child’s exact location—he issued a decree to kill all of the males two years old and younger based on the timing of when the star appeared per the Magi’s original account. Only God’s warning to Joseph to flee to Egypt spared Jesus this fate. (Matt 2:1–18).
When the angel finally directed Joseph to take his family back to Israel since Herod had finally died, Joseph heard that his son, Archelaus, was the new Judean ruler—a particularly nasty one of the Herodian sons. Joseph did what the angel told him and went to Israel but opted for the Galilean district where another son, Herod Antipas, was the tetrarch, and finally settled in Nazareth. (vv. 19–23). It certainly would have been helpful context for the children to understand why they lived in such an outskirt town like Nazareth when their carpentry trade could garner so much more interest in a bigger town.
Still, James, along with his brothers and sisters, were just not able to believe that their oldest brother was anything special. He was clearly human. Plus, he looked just like the rest of them. This became at the same time a unique, privileged opportunity to get to know the Son of God in such an intimate way, yet it proved to be a hindrance to them—they couldn’t get past his humanity.
Then there was that hectic Passover trip back from Jerusalem when Joseph and Mary were beside themselves trying to figure out how they essentially lost track of the Messiah. Jesus was twelve and James could very well have been nine or ten years old at the time if Joseph and Mary had him shortly after planting roots in Nazareth. After his parents high-tailed it back to Jerusalem they spent three days searching desperately for him. Where could the Messiah possibly be? How could this happen? Once they finally narrowed it down to the temple and they saw him simply conversing with the teachers, listening and asking questions, they were stupefied. Jesus wasn’t even looking for them. He was just here. Talking.
They accosted him on the spot: “Son, why have you treated us so? Behold, your father and I have been searching for you in great distress” (Lk 2:48).
The Greek word used here for “distress” is odunao, which means to cause intense pain; to be tormented and in anguish. Any parent who has lost their child for a second knows this overwhelming sense of dread.
Jesus, though, was innocently and respectfully non-plussed. He honestly wasn’t sure why they wouldn’t have expected him to be here: “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” (vs. 49).
Now Joseph and Mary were the ones that were lost.
Jesus was probably more surprised that they had left in the first place and then upon not finding him, wondered why they would have looked anywhere other than the temple.
Even though Joseph and Mary didn’t understand his response, Jesus immediately went with them back to Nazareth “and was submissive to them” (vs. 51).
Just like when Mary heard Simeon’s psalm about Jesus when he was a baby, she “treasured up all these things in her heart” (vs. 51).
How much of the unique circumstances surrounding Jesus’ life and words did Joseph and Mary share with their other children? Did she treasure up these things in her heart and keep them there? Perhaps she wanted to trust the Lord to work out whatever He saw fit in Jesus’ life, as far as His divinity was concerned, and how that would then be revealed to the siblings in time. We can only speculate, which is not always a healthy exercise, but we do know that Jesus’ siblings had no excuses to be skeptics. He was a perfect man. Perhaps they chalked that up to his personality?
Even still, by the time most of them were in their twenties and Jesus was about thirty, they were hearing him preach, or hearing of his preaching; they were hearing of John the Baptist and his baptism of Jesus; they were hearing of or witnessing the miracles themselves—turning water into wine, casting out demons, healing lepers, paralytics, eradicating disease, confronting the Pharisees with unheard of wisdom; they knew of His disciples; they saw the crowds. Massive crowds. They followed him everywhere.
They knew that Jesus was staying with Peter in Capernaum, but once they heard that crowds would rally around his house to where he couldn’t even eat, they felt they had to intervene: “He’s out of his mind” (Mk 3:21)—a sad proof of their unbelief.
This familial skepticism wasn’t a secret either. John’s gospel records the time when his brothers tried to convince Jesus to essentially prove Himself more—perhaps to themselves, or perhaps they just wanted Him to furnish more proof of His supposed supernatural abilities to the people around them so they would feel better about their own willingness to believe. If the people believe, then we might believe—a sure sign of illegitimate belief.
“Leave here,” they pushed. “Go to Judea, that your disciples also may see the works you are doing. For no one works in secret if he seeks to be known openly. If you do these things, show yourself to the world” (Jn 7:3–4).
There was certainly a lack of understanding as to Jesus’ timing and intent of everything He was doing, so His brothers’ sour-grapes-attitude tried calling Him out for it. They essentially suggested He just put it all out there if He was really on a mission from God, or perhaps there to make some legitimate splash in the Roman-dominated Jewish world. There goading was simply inappropriate.
John’s next statement explains it all: “For not even his brothers believed in him” (vs. 5).
Both James and Jude would be in this group. The truth is that none of them really got it until after Jesus’ resurrection. Sure, there was a growing belief and understanding amongst the disciples about who Jesus was to some degree. Peter at least identified Him as “the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Matt 16:16), but they didn’t fully understand the Messiah’s role on earth and all that He came to fulfill. His brothers—and sisters perhaps—were never identified as having such a growing faith. They just didn’t believe—period.
In fact, Jesus was once teaching in His own hometown synagogue in Nazareth and was confronted with a number of skeptics who took offense at Him. “A prophet is not without honor,” He replied, “except in his hometown and in his own household” (Matt 13:57), (emphasis mine). Rather than doing extra mighty works there like his brothers were hoping, “He did not do many mighty works there, because of their unbelief” (vs. 58) (emphasis mine). He actually “marveled” at their unbelief (Mk 6:6).
The next time we really see a direct mention of the brothers in particular again isn’t until after Christ’s ascension in Acts 1. Jesus had been making numerous visits over a forty-day period to prove his resurrection by showing many proofs. We remember the disciples feeling His scars and watching Him eat lunch with them (Lk 24:36–43; Jn 20:19–19). This was a legitimate bodily resurrection.
The Apostle Paul recorded a succinct summary of this time for the Corinthian church, though it is not exhaustive:
“He appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have fallen asleep. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me” (1 Cor 15:5–8).
The James in view here is understood to be Jesus’ half-brother and the author of our epistle. Paul probably wouldn’t identify the apostle James and then say Jesus met “all the apostles” right after that. Plus, we know that all of the apostle’s were locked up in a room together when Jesus walked through the wall to prove his bodily resurrection by having lunch with them. The only exception to who was there was Thomas who, in turn, saw Jesus eight days later with the group again (Jn 20:19–29).
Nonetheless, something happened after the resurrection that changed the minds of Jesus’ brothers. By the time the disciples, now full time apostles, were rejoicing on the way back to Jerusalem—no longer hiding out in locked rooms for fear of the Jews—they went to the unassuming “upper room” and met up with none other than “the women, and Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers” (vs.14) (emphasis mine). “All these with one accord,” we are told, “were devoting themselves to prayer.”
What a marvelous transformation in the skeptical brothers!
The women that were there were no doubt some of the ones “looking on from a distance,” when Jesus died on the cross. They were those “who had followed Jesus from Galilee, ministering to him, among whom were Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of James [the apostle] and Joseph and the mother of the sons of Zebedee [the disciples, James and John]” (Matt 27:55–56). Even more, right before Jesus died on the cross, He instructed John to take care of his mother as if she were his own. John, of course, never blinked, taking Mary into his own home, no doubt with the accompaniment of his own mother (Jn 19:26–27). This was a tight-knit group that became wrapped even tighter in the bonds of the love of God through the death of Christ.
Jesus’ brother James ultimately became a pillar in the early church. Having started as a wavering man full of skepticism, he ended up a man full of conviction and of the Holy Spirit. The grace of God had gotten a hold of his life and he was never the same. Oh, the hindsight that must have grieved him! He grew up with God . . .
James is now seen throughout Acts playing a major role in the church’s development. No doubt those who knew He was Jesus’ brother were keen to rely on him for leadership. When Peter miraculously escaped from prison in Acts 12, he went straight to John Marks’ mother’s house where many were gathered together in fervent prayer for Peter—the unjust death of the apostle James being fresh on their minds (12:1–2). They were in disbelief when Peter came knocking at the door, but once they got their wits about them and finally heard what had happened, Peter’s short message was, “Tell these things to James and to the brothers” (Acts 12:17), before he left to stay somewhere else.
James was a keynote speaker, if you will, at the Jerusalem Council, where Paul and Barnabas recounted the work of God in giving grace to the Gentiles. Peter then stood up and attested to God’s work in the hearts and lives of the Gentiles as well. Ultimately, James wrapped it all up with the suggestion to write to the Gentiles and give them directions for how to conduct themselves in a God-honoring way that would not offend the Jews. And so, they did (15:1–35).
After Paul’s second missionary jaunt around the Mediterranean regions and churches he had previously planted, he returned again to Jerusalem, being warmly and gladly received by his brothers in Christ, and reconnected with James and all of the elders, telling them even more about “the things that God had done among the Gentiles through his ministry. And when they heard of it, they glorified God” (21:17–20).
When Paul recounted to the Galatian’s in his letter about how he came to learn the gospel, he points out that he learned it first from the Lord Himself. Other than staying with the Apostle Peter for a couple of weeks after his three-year training by Christ, he saw no apostles. The only relatively close connection was “James the Lord’s brother” (Gal 1:19).
Eventually he did share with the other apostles all that the Lord was doing in his life and what he was teaching the Gentiles, which had an invigorating effect on the persecuted church. In fact, it was James, along with Peter and John, that gave Paul the right hand of fellowship once they perceived that God had given grace to Paul to be saved and preach the gospel. This was extremely relevant and meaningful to him for in his own words, “James and Cephas and John . . . seemed to be pillars” (2:9).
Understanding the spiritual development of Jesus’ half-brother, James, from his original state of skepticism is very important because we are immediately struck by the opening of his letter to the persecuted church where he identifies himself in this way: “James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ.”
He is no longer stumbling over the stone of Jesus’ humanity, but now recognizes His divinity. Once sitting in the seat of scoffers, he is now identifying himself as a servant of his brother.
The Greek word for “servant” is doulos, which almost always means slave. It is a bondman—someone of servile condition. The fact that this word is usually translated to “servant”, or even “bondservant”, is a sad translation that ends up losing its weightiness, though it is sometimes supposed to simply mean “servant”. The primary meaning, however, is “slave”. Slaves are owned. Slaves of Christ have been bought by the precious blood of Christ (1 Cor 6:20, 7:23; 1 Pet 1:18–19). We have been ransomed (Rev 5:9) and James knows this.
Doulos comes from the word deo, which means to to bind, tie, or fasten, making the picture clear. For the Christian, however, while we have been put “in Christ” (1 Cor 1:30) we also take every thought “captive to Christ” (2 Cor 10:5). The further definition of doulos is to be devoted to another to the disregard of one's own interests. This is the Christian. He or she lives with the same mindset that Jesus Himself had, “not my will, but yours, be done” (Lk 22:42).
Thus, James the skeptic of Christ has become a slave of Christ. Jesus is His Lord and Master. The transformation that happened in him is one he wishes to see in others. As a leader of the early church he can now write and exhort in a way that will encourage and instruct the beleaguered Christians suffering at the hands of evil emperors. This relatively small epistle he wrote is packed with practical teaching on living for God and filled with wisdom that is obviously from above.
I hope this blog series will be an edifying one!
In Christ alone,
Ben
