My dad often repeats the phrase, “We have much to be thankful for.” While I was growing up, he’d say it at the start of a meal, when the family celebrated a holiday or a birthday, or simply at the end of a long day. For years, I thought those words were just another dad-ism, a phrase heard so often I’d be tempted to dismiss the sentiment and opt for an eye-roll instead.

But that regular expression of gratitude wasn’t a cliche or truism. For him, it has been a lifeline. I heard him say “we have much to be thankful for” while his hair fell out and his body weakened from cancer treatments. He said, “we have much to be thankful for” through tears, praying before dinner while my mom slowly deteriorated from her own cancer, lying in her bed just down the hall.

His gratitude was never an attempt to put on a fake smile. Instead, those words were spoken as a liturgy tethering our broken hearts to our sure hope. Gratitude didn’t replace lament; it often grew out of it.

Throughout his whole letter, James has been instructing his readers to live out their faith—and he’s been especially concerned with how they do that in suffering. Look back to the very first verse of this book. James writes to Jewish believers scattered around the world (“the twelve tribes in the Dispersion”). They’re dealing with persecution and long to one day experience the restoration God promised. But in the meantime, first century life has been hard, especially as followers of Christ.

They’re also navigating divisions within the Church, divisions between Jew and Gentile, rich and poor, honored and lowly. In the middle of all of this, James calls them to a life that reflects the kingdom and the character of God. We’ve seen the practical exhortations he’s given like avoiding partiality, watching their speech, submitting desires to God, and not putting their trust in plans or possessions. Then, we reach the end of his letter, which offers a fitting conclusion to all he’s instructed God’s people to do thus far: 1) pray and 2) help one another live out the truth.

I’m not a farmer. This year, I managed to keep a few plants alive inside my house, but other than that and a couple summertime herbs, my agricultural experience is next to nothing. I don’t know what it’s like to rely on the weather for food. But James’ readers know this well, and here he offers a metaphor that helps them understand what it looks like to be patient as they wait. Just like a farmer has to wait for his or her crop to bear fruit and in the process waits for the rains to come, so we wait for the return of the Lord.

I think we can all understand this passage better after the events of 2020. We’re more aware now than we were a few months ago that our plans are not secure. Our control is an illusion, our life a mist. We truly do not know what tomorrow will bring, as James reminds us.

That may be the understatement of the year.

Right before this passage, James warned against worldliness. He reminded us that we are prone to arrogance and pride. We’re selfish and eager to spend what we’ve been given on our own passions (James 4:2-3). Instead, we’re meant to draw near to God in humble repentance (verses 6-10). Arrogance and pride are antithetical to kingdom living.

When I started this series, it didn’t occur to me that I’d be writing about fights, quarrels, taming the tongue, and similar subjects during such a tense, chaotic year. I spent time studying the book of James earlier in the year, and I wanted to dive deeper into it. It’s practical, convicting, and essential for the Church. But I did not realize from the outset how relevant and how personally convicting this short book would be. Honestly, if I knew how much I’d have to wrestle with James’ words in my own life and the responsibility of sharing them on my blog, I’m not sure I would have undertaken this project.

Thankfully, God knew I needed this, and it’s sure been a humbling process. I found that to be especially true as I studied this section.

Meekness isn’t exactly a highly valued trait in our society. Independence. Strength. Courage. Fortitude. We tend, at least in the United States, to admire those qualities. But meekness? And the meekness of wisdom? Not so much.

But James tells us that true wisdom isn’t about just knowing things. It’s not about shouting more loudly than the person next to us. True wisdom comes from a faith rooted in God and shows itself through our conduct and our humility.

This is a meaty passage of Scripture, one that’s given Christians some trouble. Doesn’t James contradict what Paul says? Paul says we’re justified by grace alone through faith (Ephesians 2:8), but yet here James seems to say the exact opposite (James 2:24). So what’s going on?

We’re going to look at three aspects of James’ argument—first, his example of how we treat the poor, second, his argument about demons, and third, what he means by “justified.” As we look at each of these components of his argument, I think we’ll see clearly that James doesn’t disagree with Paul. Both agree that an inactive faith is really no faith at all.

True faith does something.

We are all desperately in need of God, and when we favor some because of the way they look or how much they earn or whatever our worldly measuring stick says, two things happen. First, we rebel against the character and work of God. And second, we fail to love our neighbor.

Instead, God’s people are to live in a way that reflects his character and his kingdom. That means we love our neighbor and avoid showing partiality.

I am starting to think this 12-week series could have been a year-long series. Every week I come to the set of verses for the week and wonder how in the world we’ll cover them in one post (which I couldn’t even do last week and had to break the content into two posts). The Word of God is so, so rich, and we could study this a thousand times and not exhaust all there is to learn and meditate on. But while we won’t be able to grasp all there is to learn, we can still take small, meaningful steps in the right direction.

In the first chapter of his letter, James has laid out a bird’s eye view of many of the topics he’ll bring up again. He reminds his readers to be joyful and steadfast in their trials, because there’s a reward that will be worth all the struggle. And along our Christian journey, we’ll face trials and temptations that threaten to bring us down and lead us in the wrong direction. Yet we must consistently choose to follow our good God, trusting him and demonstrating that trust by putting that faith into action.

After introducing his readers to the topics of joy, wisdom, steadfastness, and our eternal reward, James turns to warning them about what stands in the way—trials and temptations, which are not exactly the same thing. Trials form us like gold refined in a fire. God often uses trials to mold and shape us to better image him to the world.

But James is clear that temptations are not from God. While God is sovereign over us and everything we face, the intent of temptation is to draw us away from God. God sent his Son, Jesus, to die for us so that we could be reconciled to him (2 Corinthians 5:18). Why would he then try to lure and entice us away from himself? He wouldn’t, and he doesn’t.

When we think about temptation, we have to remember two simple points. They seem obvious, especially if we’re not currently facing temptation. But when we’re in the middle of fighting our earthly desires and the siren song of anything that goes against God, these points are easy to forget.

“Blessed.” It’s a word our culture has overused and misunderstood. It’s a word that has become a joke on social media. New car! #blessed. Big house! #blessed. And maybe that’s not entirely wrong. “‘Blessedness’ has to do with well-being in life that flows from the favorable position in which one is rightly related to God”[1].

We’ve gotten part of our understanding correct. We receive good gifts and recognize that we have some well-being in life. But what we often miss is that those gifts aren’t necessarily because of our right relationship with God. That’s why the psalmists and the prophets over and over again lament that the wicked prosper (see Psalm 73). Often it looks to human eyes like the wicked are ones who are #blessed.

For many of us, the events of 2020 have probably raised that same question. Maybe we wonder if God is really in control or why there’s so much evil in the world. Maybe we’re not sure if we can really trust him or we’re uncertain even in the age of information what’s actually true. Maybe our emotions, what others tell us, or our circumstances leave us feeling tossed around in doubt, confusion, and discouragement.

But in the beginning of his letter, James reminds us that joy, steadfastness, and spiritual maturity come from knowing and trusting that God is who he says he is.