This is one of the earliest bits of New Testament literature, and the words of this relative of our Savior are inspired and useful for teaching and reproof, for correction and training in righteousness.
So, you want to preach James, huh? There are worse books you could spend four weeks working on; like Proverbs, or Song of Solomon. Here is some basic advice: When James shows up in the Lectionary, avoid it. Okay, maybe not “avoid it,” but you are going to have to work really hard to preach it through a lens of gift and grace. Why?
If the letter of James (devoid of any of its fellow exponents of New Testament literature) washed up on the shore of an unevangelized island and the Holy Spirit converted the hearts of its readers and hearers, it is obvious the Christianity which would arise on that island would not look like orthodox Christianity. James, by itself, is an insufficient exposition of the faith.
With all due respect to Luther’s “epistle of straw” line, I am not trying to single James out as the worst. There are plenty of books I would not want to be stuck on a desert island with. Esther never mentions God. 2 Thessalonians is the most boring book of the New Testament. Proverbs is too easy to hijack into basic advice. But I would say James is even worse than those. It sets itself to illustrations and does not stop haranguing the hearer with talk radio wisdom. Most evangelical preachers I have heard who do a series on James go about it with the idea that it is a terrific way to get people to change their behavior. Of course, most are only too happy to preach through the Sermon on the Mount this way too, and spend a lot of time doing it, weeks and weeks in some cases, a slow read to hit every sin, legal demand, and piece of advice James and Jesus would offer as a way to see the marks of a Christian or a true Christian or a real Christian or an authentic Christian... blech!
Proverbs lends itself to such a temptation (like the Sermon on the Mount, James, the Pauline sin catalogues, and others) primarily because these things are “Wisdom Literature.” That is, they are generically didactic and intended to teach a moral lesson. Like the fable (animal stories with a convicting one-liner at the end of them) or the fable’s fraternal twin, the parable (Jesus’ favored form of zinging the religious authorities who must have been as upset at Him as my own students would be if I dared lecture to them like Sharry Lewis via a Lambchop puppet), these bits of literature are overtly addressed as lessons, and self-referentially get to that point (reference the formulaic bits thrown in like “listen my son,” “he who has ears to hear,” the imperative mood, and the like).
But I am going to offer a piece of my own advice, theologian to theologian, right now, and this will likely be the best advice you get out of me in regard to James or any other piece of holy writ of the same style. Jesus is not a Moses redux. We get Jesus wrong when we make Him a lawgiver. We get Christianity wrong when we reduce it to rules for living, the Bible wrong when we think it is life’s little instruction book or “Basic Information Before Leaving Earth.” Jesus’ wisdom talk in Matthew 5-7 is best understood as a magnification of the Law to point to its impossibility of fulfillment except by the One who came, not to abolish it, but to fulfill it Himself. Jesus’ wisdom talk in Matthew 5-7 is best understood in the context our Lord Himself introduces as the keynote: The topsy-turvy Kingdom of Heaven beatitudes which run all the major discourses of the Gospel, where the first are last and the meek inherit, and the least and the lost turn out to have it all in the end when Jesus flips the stratification pyramid of Hellenistic Rome, patronage, state, the world, and the Devil on its head in His death and resurrection.
Jesus is not a Moses redux. We get Jesus wrong when we make Him a lawgiver.
Therefore, we read the Sermon on the Mount wrong, Matthew wrong, the Gospel and the entire New Testament wrong, if we run with Jesus as a Moses redux. Context would lead us to a keynote, and it is a “winner, winner, chicken dinner” at the head of Matthew 5.
This same caution must be kept in mind when considering other Wisdom Literature in the Bible. We get Jesus wrong if we make him a Moses redux (or anything redux besides the unique, “sui generis” savior He is), and we will be on better ground to avoid such a pitfall if we read in context. And we will miss the context and jeopardize our reading if we miss the keynote.
I am not saying there is always a magic keynote, or one patently presented with blinking neon lights and an arrow like a 1960’s truck stop diner, the way Jesus introduces the Sermon on the Mount with the beatitudes. Literature is messy, messier than music mostly, but close and repeated reading will reveal that key to the careful observer and listener.
The key is always the Christ, dead and risen, the God for us, the One who kills and makes alive, the sacramental, juicy, real life-and-death, big potatoes, big guns God in Jesus of Nazareth: the radical whose axe is at the roots, the root of Jesse Himself who is planting His people and building His church. So, the key is going to be big. It is not going to be about small potatoes stuff, but rather larger, more enduring ideas; not so much along the lines of, “How can I succeed in this life.” Rather, more in-tune with: “Holy smokes, I am going to die. What now?” God is not presenting the God of the suburban, bourgeoisie, jet set. God presents the God of the poor and the vulnerable, the God He reveals in His Son, in Himself, in the Man of Sorrows, the friend of sinners. It is not the “thirty-days-to-firmer-abs” sort of God. He is the death and life, the big guns, large potatoes sort of God.
That is why it is unfortunate in the James series of Year B that James 1 is omitted! Because every last little bit of James, every jot, every tittle, every single piece of advice and illustration, should be read through the lens of what we number as James 1:17. It is about gift, gift, gift. It is the gift of the giver God, every good and perfect gift, which comes from above, from the Father of Lights, in whom there is no shifting of shadow.
I would advise the preacher to put 1:17 to memory and teach his people to put it to memory. It is one of the few bits inherent in the letter itself that salvages what is too tempting for many to make of it: Yet another instruction book, another advice line, or another Christian perfection method. Do this lest you forsake the advice of the previous sentence (what we number as 1:16): Do not be deceived! This sentence, incidentally, is better understood as the conclusion of the previous paragraph, rather than the introduction to a new one.
James spotlights this sentiment formally. It is the closest the New Testament comes to a hexametric line anywhere (technically, it is one syllable off, but otherwise reads as smoothly as Homer). In other words, it is poetry, poetry of a Hellenistic, first century variety, one the learned, the elite, the Greek-literate upper classes, who likely comprised James’ immediate audience, would recognize as a line to perk up their ears at. And what is it about? It is about the God who gives, the ἄνωθέν (anōthen – from above) gift-giver God, the from-above God who gives His gifts from above over and over again, just like the God Jesus describes to Nicodemus at night in John chapter 3. He who would see the reign of God, the Kingdom of Heaven, he has to be born from above, born again, and the Jesus who speaks these things is the One who comes from above.
He who would see the reign of God, the Kingdom of Heaven, he has to be born from above, born again, and the Jesus who speaks these things is the One who comes from above.
In this way, James and Jesus speak in similar terms, which leads to one additional piece of advice on the pre-study for dealing with James at all, anytime: Do a couple of classic, good-old-fashioned “word studies” through the New Testament on vocabulary like “from above,” “again,” “gift,” and “give.” Once you are done with that, deal with James 1:17 again. Grind that lens good and you will have a pair of spectacles that will make your reading of James respectable.
I spend time and space with this prolegomenon because I come to this task with a couple of assumptions. One, most people who will read these words are preachers already, or are studying to become so, and are likely from a protestant tradition that sniffs something funny in James, and that funny can fall into two ditches. On the one side are the dangerous folk who really love James because they are sick of all the justification business and think the purpose of their pulpit is to challenge their hearers in holy living so they can either transform their community, or live as a Noahic witness to their neighbors, or get fit for Heaven. Yikes, it is so American, so Western, so Methodist, so transactional, and not a surprise that capitalists love this ditch (and take care to see what James’ immediate audience was being warned about!). The other ditch is filled with those who say, “Forget James. It is antilegomena, an epistle of straw, it contradicts Paul, just avoid it.” Sisters and brothers in Christ, we cannot do that either. This is one of the earliest bits of New Testament literature, and the words of this relative of our Savior are inspired and useful for teaching and reproof, for correction and training in righteousness. It is Okay to embrace it, but it will be more fruitful for you and your listeners if you hear in it the wisdom that the Lord would deliver as a gift.
What more can be said for prolegomena before inching into the pool with James? Maybe just one more thing. Wisdom Literature in the scriptures always finds its subject in the One who is the Wisdom of the Lord, the Proverbs 8 antetype, the Word made flesh, the Way, Truth, and Life who is Christ Jesus. Divine wisdom is not just about “do this” and “do not do that” practical advice. Practical wisdom extends from divine wisdom and human wisdom, but the root of it is reverence for Yahweh. That is the beginning of wisdom. All those who practice it have a good understanding. It is in the life lived that the Lord would have His way, His wise way. So, take James’ advice and ask for it. Ask for wisdom and be led to the cross where the law of love shows you what truly to revere.
And now, we can move on to the pericopes of James!
