False Faith Without Compassion

Daniel Doriani shares this analogy in his commentary for James 2:15-17:

It is easy to see analogies to James’s scene today. If a friend is unemployed, false faith says, “Hang in there; the Lord will provide.” If a single mother with small children is sick, false faith says: “Take it easy. Don’t do too much; we are thinking of you.”

James does not require believers to do everything, but we must do something when we see a brother in need. For example, when someone is sick, a “How are you doing” phone call may be a burden more than an encouragement. If a sister is ill, it is better to bring a meal and say the encouraging words at the door as you deliver it.

There is a missions-minded seminary professor who teaches at an understaffed Romanian seminary each spring and fall. In the fall, he adds a trip for a training conference in Khartoum, the capital of Sudan. Before a recent trip, a member of his church gave a thousand dollars so that each of that year’s graduates could have a Greek New Testament. For Romanians, such a Bible might cost two weeks’ salary. A second person slipped him fifty dollars to give to someone really needy in Sudan. In Khartoum it is relatively safe to be a Christian, but elsewhere Christians have been beaten, killed, enslaved, starved, and shoved off the land so the Muslim government can control the oil-laden regions many Christians inhabit. The professor gave the money to a man who was on crutches. He had professed Christ, and Muslims had broken his leg, so that he was disabled for a long time. In Sudan, fifty dollars can go a long way. Both gifts followed the spirit of James. The church members gave what they could to brothers with needs.

These individual acts are truly commendable, but the Christian community must also seek ways to collaborate both to train those who have a desire to engage in deeds of mercy and to marshal resources for larger projects. Sadly, many churches fail to support ministries of mercy as they should. They give preeminence to individual needs over social dimensions of the gospel. They fail to build bridges to their community and to like-minded partner churches. They let the needs of a few drain too much energy. It is a ministry in itself to recruit, train, and organize those who feel called to ministries of mercy.

But the idle wish “keep warm and well fed” fails the tests of true religion (James 1:26-27). Idle wishes indulge the tongue, rather than controlling it. Mere talk does nothing for the poor. And it is thoroughly worldly to let sentimental talk supplant loving deeds. Warm sentiments, without action, mark false, vain religion. Indeed, spurious faith is ineffective manward. James says, “So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead” (2:17 ESV). The phrase “by itself” is crucial. Genuine, living faith is never by itself. A “faith” that has no deeds is lifeless. Such faith is inherently defective and produces no works for that reason.

James, Reformed Expository Commentary, by Daniel, M. Doriani, pp. 85-86

Then Your Life Will Really Show It

Chuck Swindoll offers this wonderful introduction to James 2:14-26 in his commentary on James:

Many years ago I was driving through our town with a couple of my young kids in the backseat. As children do, they were singing a song they had learned in Sunday school. Now, this was long before they made kids in the backseat wear seatbelts, so one was laying on the seat, the other on the floor. That kind of thing today makes us cringe, but many of you are old enough to remember when that was typical. I couldn’t see them back there, but I could sure hear them belting out that song at the top of their little voices: “If you’re saved and you know it, say ‘Amen!’” And they’d shout, “Amen!”

Eventually they wrangled me into singing along. As we got to the last verse where we’re supposed to “do all three,” I stopped at a red light. With the window rolled down, I was shouting, “If you’re saved and you know it, do all three!” And I stomped, shouted “Amen,” and clapped my hands. Just then I realized we were being watched by two sophisticated-looking people in the car beside us. Well, I should say I was being watched—because they couldn’t see the two kids singing with me, lying down on the back seat!

I could tell by the looks on their faces, they were shocked. They must have thought I was nuts, intoxicated, high, or worse—but they weren’t going to stick around to find out. Their car took off as soon as the light turned green. I wanted to chase them down and explain, “There are two kids in the back seat that got me into this!” But I shrugged my shoulders and thought, “Who cares?”

Then, as I accelerated through the green light, we were at the part of the song where we sang, “If you’re saved and you know it, then your life will surely show it.” And I stopped singing. They kept on, but I stopped. Immediate conviction set in. I thought, “Lord, does my life really show it?” I sure showed something to those people in the next car over, but I was only a little embarrassed about that minor social infraction. What about all the things I’m called to do daily as a believer in Christ—all those things that cut crosswise against cultural norms and society’s expectations? So I began to quickly review the past weeks, months, and years, trying to determine if my life really showed my faith. That simple children’s song got to me.

Someone once said that faith is like calories: you can’t see them, but you can always see their results! That’s the major theme resonating throughout James’s letter. We can boil it down to one word—results. Real faith results in genuine works. And nowhere does James more passionately argue and illustrate this theme than in 2:14-26. This passage forces us to answer that penetrating question, “If you say you believe like you should, why do you behave like you shouldn’t?”

Insights On James, 1 & 2 Peter: 13 (Swindoll’s Living Insights New Testament Commentary, Charles Swindoll

Mercy

From this morning’s reading of New Morning Mercies by Paul Tripp:

“Mercy for others will reveal your ongoing need for mercy, driving you to the end of yourself and into the arms of your merciful Savior.
It’s simply not natural for us. It’s natural to make sure all your needs are met. It’s natural to hoard what you have in the fear that at some point you won’t have enough. It’s natural to carry around with you a long catalog of things you want for yourself. It’s natural to be more in tune with your feelings than with the feelings of others. It’s natural to want mercy for yourself but justice for others. It’s natural to be very aware of the sin of others, yet blind to your own. If we are ever going to be people of mercy, we need bountiful mercy ourselves, because what stands in the way of our being a community of mercy is us!

It’s impossible for me to think about God’s call to us to be his instruments of mercy and not reflect on Jesus’s powerful parable in Matthew 18:21–35. Please stop and read it right now. Christ had two reasons for telling this story. The first was to reveal the heart behind Peter’s question: “All right, Lord, how many times do I have to forgive?” This question evidenced a heart that lacked mercy. Christ’s second reason for telling this story was to reveal our hearts. You see, we’re all the unjust servant. We celebrate God’s mercy but scream at our children when they mess up. We sing of amazing grace but punish our spouses with silence when they offend us. We praise God for his love but forsake a friendship because someone has been momentarily disloyal. We are thankful that we’ve been forgiven but say that a person who is suffering the result of his decisions is getting what he deserves. We bask in God’s grace but throw the law at others. We’re simply not that good at mercy because we tend to see ourselves as more deserving than the poor and needy.

But when God’s call of mercy collides with your lack of mercy, you begin to see yourself with accuracy. You begin to confess that you don’t have inside you what God requires. You begin to admit to yourself and others that you cannot live up to God’s standard, so you begin to cry out for the very thing that you have refused to give to others. And as you begin to remember that God’s mercy is your only hope and you meditate on the grandeur of the mercy that has been showered on you, you begin to want to help others experience that same mercy. You see, to the degree that you forget the mercy you’ve been given, it is easier for you to not give mercy to others. I daily need God’s work of mercy in order to do his work of mercy.”

More of God

The following excerpt is from the book Play the Man by Mark Batterson

“The only thing that will ultimately satisfy our longing for more is more God.

I have a theory: the answer to every prayer is more of the Holy Spirit. We want more love, more joy, and more peace, but those are fruits of the Spirit. So what we need is more of the Holy Spirit. And that goes for the rest of the fruit, including the ninth fruit-self-control.

We think forbidden fruit will solve our problems, but it will only complicate them. The only fruit that satisfies is the fruit of the Spirit. Everything we want is the by-product of living a Spirit-led, Spirit-filled life.

One of this dragon’s most insidious lies is that God is holding out on you.

For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.

God gave Adam the Garden of Eden rent-free! What more could you ask for? You guessed it – one more tree! For the record, there are twenty-three thousand varieties of trees in the world. Thousands of them are fruit trees orange, almond, cherry, mango, coconut, cashew, and olive, just to name a few. The apple tree alone comes in more than one hundred varieties! My point? Adam could have eaten different fruit from a different tree every day for at least three years! Did he really need one more?

Lust is a lie a lie that more sex, more food, more power, more applause, or more money will satisfy our wants and needs. It won’t. Did you know scientists have coined a term for this? They call it the “hedonic treadmill.” When you chase pleasure, you never stop running.

Augustine, who lived quite the hedonistic lifestyle before his encounter with Christ at the age of thirty-one, observed this tendency sixteen centuries ago: “A true saying it is, Desire hath no rest, is infinite in itself, endless, and as one calls it, a perpetual rack, or horse-mill.”

Horse-mill, treadmill – same difference. The Dragon of Lust is never satisfied. The more you feed it, the hungrier it gets. Pick a pleasure, any pleasure. It slowly loses its ability to satisfy in the same dose, the same frequency. Over time it takes more and more to satisfy less and less. It’s true of success – you’re only as good as your last game, your last deal. It’s true of money; money might solve some problems, but it creates others. Of course, we all want to test that theory, thinking we’ll be the exception to the rule!

Reality check: enough is never enough.

Lust is selfish – it’s consumed with getting what it wants.

Love is sacrificial – it’s consumed with giving what it has.

The only way to meet your deepest needs is by meeting the deepest needs of others!

Satisfaction is found on the far side of sacrifice. And that’s what playing the man is all about The Three-Headed Dragon is a daunting foe, but he’s a defeated foe. We’ve got the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit on our side! And if God is for us, who can be against us?”

p. 72-73, Play the Man, Mark Batterson

Doers of the Word

helping hands
Photo by Ave Calvar Martinez on Pexels.com

Swindoll begins this section of his commentary on James:

“A debilitating disease is crippling the body of Christ—a syndrome so common that it seems to affect every believer with either a mild or an acute case. This insidious condition neutralizes the church’s impact and nullifies her testimony. It can diminish effectiveness and paralyze production. The problem? A rupture between confession and deed, theology and action, hearing and doing. For too many of us Christians, God’s Word fails to make it from the head to the heart. And for many more, His Word gets lodged between the heart and the hands. A. W. Tozer vividly portrays the situation:

So wide is the gulf that separates theory from practice in the church that an inquiring stranger who chances upon both would scarcely dream that there was any relation between them. An intelligent observer of our human scene who heard the Sunday morning sermon and later watched the Sunday afternoon conduct of those who had heard it would conclude that he has been examining two distinct and contrary religions. . . . It appears that too many Christians want to enjoy the thrill of feeling right but are not willing to endure the inconvenience of being right. So the divorce between theory and practice becomes permanent in fact, though in word the union is declared to be eternal. Truth sits forsaken and grieves till her professed followers come home for a brief visit, but she sees them depart again when the bills become due.[7]”

[7] A. W. Tozer, The Root of the Righteous (Camp Hill, PA: Christian Publications, 1986), 51–53.

— Insights on James, 1 & 2 Peter (Swindoll’s Living Insights New Testament Commentary Book 13) by Charles R. Swindoll

an elderly man behind the glass window

Daniel Doriani on Temptation vs Testing

I found this very helpful in understanding James 1:13-14:

The Alternative to Endurance: Questioning God’s Goodness (1:13–14)

James knows that a test can be taken two ways. We can view it as a trial and turn to God for aid, so we persevere. Or we can read it as a tragedy, or as a senseless accident, or as a failure—on God’s part—to love and protect us. Worse yet, some who meet trials blame and attack God for them, accusing him of malice. They say he tests them too severely, pushing them toward sin so they will fall. When they face tests, they do not endure, but give up. Believing failure is inevitable, they do fail, and then seek someone to blame. “God is tempting me,” they say (James 1:13). “He is leading me to ruin.”

James says that this is preposterous. He writes: “When tempted, no one should say, ‘God is tempting me.’ For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone” (1:13). God never singles anyone out for impossible tests, tests they are bound to fail. God does not entice men and women to sin. To do so would be evil. Neither is God tempted to do evil, nor does he entice others to evil, for that would be evil, too.

God does test his people, of course. Genesis 22 says God tested Abraham when he asked him to sacrifice Isaac (v. 1).3 That is, God gave Abraham an opportunity to demonstrate the authenticity of his faith. He also tested Israel in the wilderness. He sent one day’s supply of manna each day and told them to gather nothing beyond their daily needs, but to trust God to rain down manna the next day. “The Lord said to Moses.… in this way I will test them and see whether they will follow my instructions” (Ex. 16:4).

The test of Abraham revealed the strength of his faith, but the test of Israel revealed their lack of faith. So do God’s tests become temptations at some point? Yes and no.

By his design, tests provide the opportunity to endure in faith, to grow strong, and to receive a crown. Yet God knows and controls all things. He knows that some will face tests and fail. So the same event is a test from one perspective, for one person, and a temptation from another perspective, for another person.

In fact, in Greek the same noun peirasmos can mean “a test,” “a trial,” or “a temptation,” and the cognate verb peirazō can mean “test,”“try,” or “tempt.” The context determines what the author has in mind: a test that lets people prove themselves, or a temptation that leads them to sin. In James 1:12, the word means “test”; in verse 13, it means “tempt.” So, if the same event can be a test or a temptation, can the charge be valid? Does God lead people into temptation and sin?

No, says James. If a test becomes a temptation, it is sinful human nature that makes it so. God does not “tempt anyone; but each one is tempted … by his own evil desire” (1:13–14). Jesus teaches us to pray that we would not be led into temptation. That is, he tells us to petition the Father to spare us from tests we would be doomed to fail. If we do fail, it is because our desires lure and entice us. As James says, “… by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed” (1:14).

In biblical language, “desires” are not intrinsically evil. For example, in Luke 22:15, Jesus desires to eat the Last Supper with disciples; in 1 Thessalonians 2:17, Paul desires to see the Thessalonians. Yet if we simply count the uses of the term “desire,” most desires are sinful. This reminds us that our desires easily turn to evil, so that we can readily turn something that is good in itself to evil.

For example, a woman’s beauty is intrinsically both good and innocent. Beauty, by itself, never forces anyone to sin. Men ought to be capable of noticing God’s handiwork with the female form with perfect innocence. They can have a detached admiration, much as a visitor to an art gallery has a detached admiration for a still-life painting of fruit on a table. But many men have difficulty with such detachment. Approval of beauty becomes desire for beauty, and desire for beauty becomes lust for beauty. Where does the fault lie? With the beauty created by God and tended by the woman? No, it lies with the man, who so readily turns approval to lust. A well-appointed home and a well-engineered car are similar. I can admire a well-constructed touring sedan or I can covet it. Physical beauty and automotive excellence are good in themselves. Yet if we add selfish desire to them, they can become occasions for sin.

Testing and Temptation in the Old Testament

Several episodes in Israel’s history illumine our issue. Since James is steeped in the Old Testament, those episodes should help us follow his view of testing. The words for testing appear almost forty times in the Old Testament.4 Two passages note that the Queen of Sheba came to test Solomon’s wisdom; he passed. Judges says God tested the Israelites, after they conquered Canaan, by leaving some pagans in the land. They failed that test by following pagan ways instead of driving the pagans out.

But Israel faced its principal test as its people wandered in the wilderness after God delivered them from Egypt. God sent ten plagues on Egypt to convince Pharaoh to let his people go. When Pharaoh changed his mind, the Lord sank the Egyptian forces in the sea. In Exodus 15, all Israel praised God, saying, “The Lord is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation” (vv. 1–2).

Yet a short time later, Israel faced a water shortage. It became a test: would Israel trust God in adversity? No, the people grumbled about the water and grumbled against Moses. God provided water, but warned the people to listen to him and to trust him to do them good. He said, “I will not bring on you any of the diseases I brought on the Egyptians, for I am the Lord, who heals you” (Ex. 15:22–26).

In the next passage, the Israelites ran out of food. Utterly thankless, utterly heedless of God’s plea that they trust him, they complained, “If only we had died by the Lord’s hand in Egypt! There we sat around pots of meat and ate all the food we wanted, but you have brought us out into this desert to starve this entire assembly to death” (Ex. 16:3).

This was nearly blasphemy, yet God graciously promised to supply Israel with food aplenty, raining bread down from heaven. He promised to send bread every morning, but told them to gather nothing beyond their daily needs. So God tested them, to see if they would trust him to provide the next day. They failed, gathering more than they needed. It rotted overnight and teemed with maggots by morning.

In the next episode, the people came to a dry place and demanded water. They quarreled with Moses and tested the Lord (Ex. 17:1–2). They accused Moses of delivering them from Egypt in order to slay them in the desert. Despite this wickedness, God provided water. Yet, Exodus says, Moses “called the place Massah and Meribah because the Israelites quarreled and because they tested the Lord saying, ‘Is the Lord among us or not?’ ” (17:7). After all the signs of God’s mercy and strength, the Israelites had the audacity to question God, asking, in essence: “What have you done for us lately? We want proof that you are with us, and we want it now!”

Numbers says Israel disobeyed God and tested him ten times in the wilderness (Num. 14:22), but Deuteronomy and Psalms cite the event at Massah as the pinnacle of Israel’s faithlessness (Deut. 6:16; 9:22; 33:8; Ps. 95:8). The people tested God’s patience by their disobedience. But he also tested them, and found them wanting.

Thus God tests his people. He tested Abraham when he asked him to sacrifice Isaac (Gen. 22:1). He tested Israel in the wilderness (Ex. 16:4; cf. Ex. 20:20; Deut. 8:2, 16; Judg. 2:22; 3:1). People respond differently to such tests. Abraham had strong faith, and he passed his test. The Israelites failed their tests, but Moses, another man of strong faith, passed the same tests. He felt the full burden of leadership, but persevered. He stumbled once (Num. 20:10–13), yet never ceased to believe that God would lead Israel to the Promised Land.

In fact, when Moses met Hobab, his brother-in-law, he tried to recruit him to join Israel. Moses had his motives for the appeal: “You know where we should camp in the desert, and you can be our eyes” (Num. 10:31). But he also offered Hobab a motive for seeking his fortune with Israel. “If you come with us, we will share with you whatever good things the Lord gives us” (v. 32). With this, Moses persuaded Hobab to join him, for Moses believed the Lord would send good to Israel. By that time, Moses had faced armies, thirst, complaints, hunger, rebellion, and more. Yet his faith was so unshakeable that he told Hobab in effect, “You know, God has promised good things to Israel. You would hate to miss that.”

Moses’ strong faith shows that God’s tests can make us stronger and stronger. The grumblers said, “All I see is trouble”; Moses said: “All I see is the Lord delivering us from trouble. He has never failed. I believe we are getting closer to the Promised Land, closer to the blessing.”

This leads us to James’s point. The events—deliverance from Egypt, followed by episodes of hunger and thirst, followed by further deliverance—are the same for Moses as for the rest of Israel. Why then does Moses pass where the grumblers fail? God’s provision is the same and the test is the same. Their heart attitudes set them apart.5

The book of Hebrews draws the same conclusion about the wilderness generation: “The message they heard was of no value to them, because those who heard did not combine it with faith” (Heb. 4:2). They failed not because God enticed them to sin, but because of their faithlessness.

Thomas Edison illustrates the persistence of the faithful. Edison was determined to fabricate a light bulb, but he needed to find a substance with the proper resistance to electricity so that it glowed without burning. He tried innumerable substances, one after another: metals, minerals, and organic matter. Most people would have given up. But every time Edison watched yet another filament burst into flame, he knew his quest was one step, one substance, closer to its end.

James says God intends trials to promote endurance, so that we who love him receive the crown of life (James 1:2–4, 12). To endure in trials, we need wisdom and faith (1:5–6). If we fail to endure, we should not blame God. If we succumb to temptation, it is because we let our desires drag us into sin. We have no more right to blame God for our sin than the Israelites had a right to blame God for their wilderness grumblings. God had shown every sign of his covenant love. If they doubted him, the failure was theirs, not his. And so it is for us.

3 The word and the concept in the Septuagint translation of the Old Testament of Genesis 22 (abbreviated as LXX), are the same as the word and concept in James.

4 The Greek noun is peirasmos; the verb is peirazō in the LXX; James uses the same terms in 1:12–14.

5 Of course, Moses struggles as every believer does. Indeed, he complains to God about the faithless Israelites in Numbers 11, the chapter following the one we just cited. Thus, however we commend Moses, the Lord is the only one who is perfectly faithful.

 

Daniel M. Doriani, James, ed. Richard D. Phillips, Philip Graham Ryken, and Daniel M. Doriani, Reformed Expository Commentary (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2007), 34–38.