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What Jesus' Brother James Wanted Us to Know | Verse 3, Part 1 | Trials Are Tests


The first few verses in James’ epistle are not meant to be broken up and understood separately. In fact, most of Scripture is not written that way. But, for modern day readers we must pause at nearly every verse to ensure we are understanding words, concepts, contexts, and ancient phraseology correctly. We must, however, return once again to the flow of the whole argument being made so that our newfound understanding of these things has a chance to cohesively settle into our minds and hearts. This is the gist of meaningful Bible study.

In the last post we saw what James meant by saying we ought to expect many different kinds of trials in life and that we shouldn’t consider it a “bad” thing. He doesn’t even settle at having us think it a “good” thing only. He goes much further and tells us to consider this an “exceedingly joyful” thing. Why? Our focus in this post is the answer to that question, which resides in what we call verse 3.

James explains: “For you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.”

On the surface, (in the ESV) it sounds like James isn’t necessarily telling them anything brand new: “For you know,” he says. However, the Greek word here for “know” is ginosko, which means “to learn to know; come to know; get a knowledge of, perceive.” In other words, James is saying this is what you need to learn about this process. This is what you need to know. And, given a little time, this is what you will come to know indeed.

The NASB does better here, in my opinion, by translating in a way that captures James’ encouraging their knowledge, rather than making it sound like they already know everything about this: “Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance.” In reality, there is a happy balance between the ESV and NASB in this case. It is a matter of both/and.

James is telling them what they need to know about this, so that they can then consider the trials as a joyful thing. It’s as if he is appealing to their elementary view and then taking them further. He could have used gnostos, meaning “known,” or noeo, meaning “to perceive with the mind, to understand, to have understanding,” but he doesn’t. James decides to use ginosko, to infer that while they may have some understanding here—everyone is at a different level in their faith—they need to come to know this more fully. They need to come to the understanding of just how these divine dots are connected. Put another way, if the people can understand that steadfastness and the crown of life (vs. 12) are the results of trials, then they can have exceeding joy when facing trials.

Since the Christians in James’ day were in the middle of a reign of terror, they do know and understand the pain of it and the need to learn how to cope with it. They certainly aren’t going to recant of their faith in Jesus Christ. The persecution is irrelevant to the legitimacy of God Himself. In other words, being chased from your home doesn’t mean that Jesus is no longer the Son of God. The people knew this, and, thus, they fled their homes while maintaining their faith.

As faithful and noble as these early Christian were, putting everything into words and framing a theological understanding of God’s sovereignty and the full implications thereof is quite another thing. James is helping them with that. While they know what to do—run and stay faithful—they need to know just how much good will come out of it all, so they can stay joyful in anticipation of the crown of life regardless of what happens on earth in the interim.

Rethinking Trials

When James writes in verses 1–2 to “count it all joy, my brothers [and sisters], when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness,” one thing he does here, which we need to catch on to, is equate the various trials themselves to tests of our faith. Put another way: trial = test.

The Greek word for “testing” here is dokimion, which means “proving; that by which something is tried or proved; a test.” The trials that we face are the means by which the saints of God are tried and proved. This is a staggering thought that forces our minds into heavenly places—He is actively working in our lives, using hardships to sanctify us and produce steadfastness. Putting aside all of our baggage, then, we need to ask ourselves: “Why would I be mad about hardships then?”

We so naturally and easily cave into the temptation of thinking that nothing good will come from bad circumstances, or that it just isn’t fair that we are being mishandled or misjudged by people, or undergoing any kind of painful, difficult, trial that is reducing hard-earned goods, or reputations, or ease of life to very little. We never consider that and “unfair” or “unjust” treatment or experience may in fact be a divinely sanctioned test.

Let that sink in.

No, really.

A divinely sanctioned test . . .

Let’s think about this carefully. What if you suffer a major (or even minor) financial loss due to the whimsical mistake of careless family members, or corrupt business? What if you have suffered through a third, or seventh, miscarriage? What if your spouse passed away because of medical malpractice? What if your house and everything in it were burned to the ground because a house-sitter disposed of hot coals into a cardboard box in your garage after the fire was down (this happened to my wife’s grandparents)? What if you were involved in a horrific car accident that was not your fault, but people died, leaving you with images you never thought you would have to deal with. The list could go on of course.

These are but a few examples of trials that many of us have indeed experienced where a real loss of livelihood has taken place due to no fault of our own. Do we respond by becoming overwhelmed with grief to a point where we are unable to be consoled? Or does our faith in God deepen? Do we become angry because we view every last possession we own, including our ease, as an inseverable right? Or does our faith in God increase? Do we lose heart and start wondering what the point of life is? Or do we lean harder, in faith, on the sovereignty of God over life and death?

Friends, these are extremely difficult questions, but God, via James, is taking us firmly, but gently, by the shoulders and, looking us in the eye, is asking us what our response will be. For the Christian, these trials are merely tests of our faith. When was the last time we experienced a legitimate trial (that was not a direct consequence of sin) and immediately took comfort in the fact that God was actively working on us by testing our faith? If we can only invest our emotions in what is temporal and seemingly irrecoverable, then we are already losing, for who is God but the Creator and owner of everything anyway? If He wants to replenish all that has been lost, He can. And if not? How will we react then?

Remember Daniel’s friends? They were told to worship the false gods, or else. King Nebuchadnezzar even decried the idea of any other god being able to save them. Their answer?

“Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up” (Dan 3:17–18).

They entrusted their very lives and livelihood to God, whether He would take their lives, or preserve them.

Peter wrote to these very issues as well. He was a man who understood trials. He knew trials were tests of faith and he knew what it meant to fail those tests. He knew it all too well. Now, he greets the church in the midst of suffering about twenty years after James does:

“To those who are elect exiles of the dispersion in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia, according to the foreknowledge of God the Father” (1 Pet 1:1–2).

First, Peter acknowledges God’s sovereignty seen in His “foreknowledge.” He knows that the suffering will not return void. It has a purpose. He then starts the body of his letter with a rich articulation of the glory and majesty of our Triune God and the consequent glories that are in store for those in Christ once they pass away from this earth, but he then acknowledges that while there is much to look forward to, “now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith . . . may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (vv. 6–8) (emphasis mine). There it is: trial = test.

Peter even adds that our faith that is being tested by trials is “more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire” (vs. 7). In other words, you may be losing the worlds goods, like homes, groceries, and even gold, but not even purified gold lasts forever—our faith does. All over Scripture, the reference to gold, namely fine, purified gold, was a reference to some of the most valuable commodities one could have, so Peter is lifting high the importance and necessity of persevering through the trials, so that our faith can be steeled, bringing about the praise of God.

When we are grieved by various trials, will we trust God and know that He is working to sanctify us, reveal our weaknesses, and produce in us a spirit of steadfastness?

Stay tuned for Part 2 of Verse 3.

In Christ alone,

Ben

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