What Jesus' Brother James Wanted Us to Know | Verse 1, Part 2 | The Providential Prompt
James’ epistle, or letter, is one of perspective—eternal perspective. It is tenderhearted, but very direct. In other words, James writes in the spirit of a true shepherd. Desiring wellbeing for the church, he can still show them the way to properly navigate adversity. The theme he starts and ends his epistle with is steadfastness, especially under trial. James loves the church, but the Jewish authorities hate it and have convinced the Roman government, via Herod Agrippa I, that the church must be snuffed out. Killing Jesus didn’t work. This job would require a more systematic approach.
The first post-resurrection persecution that we see in Scripture is the stoning of Stephen in Acts 7. “A young man named Saul” (vs. 58) was overseeing the brutality and “approved of his execution” (8:1). Indeed, this was the future Apostle Paul. This ended up being the catalyst for a greater amount of proactive suppression: “There arose that day a great persecution against the church in Jerusalem, and they were scattered throughout the regions of Judea and Samaria, except the apostles . . . but Saul was ravaging the church, and entering house after house, he dragged off men and women and committed them to prison.”
The next round of Herod’s were at it as well. Herod Agrippa I, the nephew of the Herod (Antipas) that killed John the Baptist and let Jesus die was also the grandson of Herod the Great—from where the Herod’s all received their name—who tried killing Jesus the first time by slaying all the male boys two years old and younger in Bethlehem (Matt 2:16).
Now, this new generation of Herodian terror was laying “violent hands on some who belonged to the church. He killed James the brother of John with the sword, and when he saw that it pleased the Jews, he proceeded to arrest Peter also” (Acts 12:1–3). This was his way of garnering support from the Jews who could make his life easier by not complaining about him to the Roman emperor like they did about his uncle Archelaus who was eventually exiled because of it. If there was one thing a Herod did well it was killing for the sake of power.
Around the time Saul was “breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord” and securing permission from the high priest to hunt them down in other towns and “bring them bound to Jerusalem,” (9:1–2) James was sitting down to write this letter. The church he loved was scattered, but as a consequence, so was the gospel. A thrill of hope would have encouraged the corners of his lips upward, even while the pit in his stomach remained for those suffering real loss and harm—women, children, and elderly included. Only someone with a fixed eternal perspective of salvation and glory, planted in the middle of a persecuting powerhouse could feel all of this at once.
The dispersed church needed to know how to think about this. They also needed no-nonsense instructions on what it meant to be a Christian—a true follower of Jesus, the Christ, the Son of the living God. They needed to hear from a leader of the church on what godly character looked like in many facets of life. As the people settled in a variety of new places with new cultures and contexts, they would need to be reminded that what was in the heart of man would be proven by their works. James was surely feeling what his half-brother did when He lamented that Israel was as a sheep without a shepherd. James can help ameliorate that problem now by picking up where Jesus left off—the very thing Jesus wanted. The people had been spiritually malnourished—deceived, in many cases. He could remember Jesus saying over and over, “You’ve heard that it was said . . . but I say to you . . .” Perhaps this is why James’ letter contained more than 20 allusions to that sermon on the mount.
Thus, with James writing under the inspiration and superintendence of the Holy Spirit, we have on record the earliest written book of the New Testament canon:
“James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ,
To the twelve tribes in the Dispersion:
Greetings” (1:1).
Generally speaking, James 1:1–18 is speaking of the fruit of steadfastness in the Christian life. He first speaks of how men can achieve it and then speaks indirectly of how God Himself is steadfast—there is no variation in Him. He is the ultimate example of steadfastness, which ought to encourage us to be the same.
Within this greater passage is another general truth: Trials come externally, which are often instigated by God to bring about the fruit of steadfastness which ought to have its full effect, so that we lack in nothing. Other trials, however, come from inside of us in the form of temptations to sin, but they have their genesis in our own evil and corrupt nature—not from God. God never desires evil, therefore God never desires evil in us, therefore God does not tempt us to do evil.
The Christian life is one long and epic journey that consists of navigating trials with a cross on our back. God sends trials to us at times to refine us while Satan sends trials at times to destroy us. James references Job and the prophets as examples of these near the end of his letter (5:10–11). Finally, as if that wasn’t enough, we produce our own trials at times by engaging sinful desires and motives. We flirt with sin. We parlay small lusts into great ones. These last types of trials for the Christian should always lead to godly grief that culminates in repentance (2 Cor 7:10). Ultimately, James ends his letter on this point: “Whoever brings back a sinner from his wandering will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins” (5:20).
The Christian, then, must live a life that is pure on the inside, so that it bears fruit on the outside. The Christian must be justified by faith before God—the very definition of salvation—before he can be fruitful, thus being justified by works before men. James labors through this concept, namely the manifestation of fruitfulness and obedience that is the byproduct of a faithful Christian spirit. The fruit will reveal the root.
It is in this context and vein that James, feeling the Providential prompt, writes. Little does he know that the very person responsible for much of the local persecution that is provoking his letter is the very one whom he will soon extend a right hand of fellowship to and clasp hands with as a partner in spreading the gospel. James’ eternal perspective was grounded by an undying faith in God to build His church. He didn’t know all of the details for how it would come about, but He knew God was at work.
It was indeed a thrill of hope that he would pass on to the beleaguered church.
As he put pen to parchment, he started scratching out his divine message: “Count it all joy, my brothers [and sisters] when you face trials of various kinds . . .”
In Christ alone,
Ben
