Sunday, August 18, 2019

James: the Rated R version ~ James 4:1-10 (a series on James)



What causes fights and quarrels among you? Don’t they come from your desires that battle within you? You desire but do not have, so you kill. You covet but you cannot get what you want, so you quarrel and fight. You do not have because you do not ask God. When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures. You adulterous people, don’t you know that friendship with the world means enmity against God? Therefore, anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God. Or do you think Scripture says without reason that he jealously longs for the spirit he has caused to dwell in us? But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says:

“God opposes the proud
    but shows favor to the humble.”

Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to God and he will come near to you. Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Grieve, mourn and wail. Change your laughter to mourning and your joy to gloom. 10 Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up.


There’s a funny story about our oldest child playing with other kids in faculty housing at Westmont College. Our son, Jeremie, was running through the neighborhood in a game of “cops and robbers” with other kids when the game was paused and everyone was switching roles (the once cops were now robbers, etc.). When Jeremie was told that he was now supposed to be a robber, one of our friends heard him exclaim: “What about the morally ambiguous person?” Well, James doesn’t seem interested in the morally ambiguous peson and his concerns are hardly cute. No, they’re Rated R. He says,  

             1.    The bad guys are us!: Zealousness the sequel, vss. 1-4
James 4:1-10 might be the most searing part of James’ letter.
The language and accusations are direct. To make it more poignant, he switches from third person pronouns to second person pronouns. He continues to hammer away at teachers and a church whose hateful speech and pride, particularly when using the God’s Word, foment hatred, division, discord, and now, death.
His question is rhetorical in vs. 1 but not hypothetical. Bad things are happening, he acknowledges. Right off the bat, a pressing question has to do with what James means by “conflicts and disputes.” Now the most common meaning for NIV’s translation “conflicts,” for example, is outright war or battle (Matt. 24:6; Luke 14:31; 1 Cor. 14:8; Heb. 11:34; Rev. 9:7, 9). The desire that these people have, James says, is to acquire their desires through zealous violence and “wrong motives”: “so you commit murder.” Many commentators think it unthinkable that Christians could murder. They choose, rather, to believe that such language is metaphorical. History, however, reminds us otherwise – Crusades, witch-hunts, brutal oppression and slavery, even lynchings – these happened among Christians by Christians. Religious violence, anchored as it was in both the Old Testament and ancient societies, was more common than most of us care to admit. Take the Apostle Paul, as an example, who himself was willing to kill for the sake of God: Acts 8:3; 9:1-2, 21; 22:4, 19; 26:10-11; Gal. 1:23. Other Christian sources, written at the same time of James, attest to this as well, e.g. the Didache, a Christian document also written in the first century, states in 3:2, “Do not become angry for anger leads to murder” and “Do not be zealous or quarrelsome or hot-tempered, for all these things breed murder.” This is why, while clunky, it perhaps is a better translation to have vs. 1 read: “warring and swording” or less clunky would be “attacks and violence.”
While I believe that the teachings of Jesus are decidedly non-violent, it is nonetheless true that Christians can be. For James, what is the cause? Vs. 2 says cravings/desires and zeloute -  zealousness. That’s the word we talked about last week. And as we saw last week, such zealousness is often connected to obedience of God and the scriptures, which, when misdirected by dispositions of hatred, refusal to listen or love our neighbor, can lead to murderous attacks on others. As the next verses will show, these leaders were praying. Yet, zeal, ambition, cravings, and selfish desires ruled their hearts and prevented them from receiving the very things they needed: humility and grace. An example of such graceless zeal is the image of Santiago Matamoros, Saint
James the Killer of Muslims, which found its way in shrines throughout Spain after the Reconquista. It’s hard to imagine Jesus approving of this.
So many Christians worry about the state of truth, God in public life, external forces (whether real or imagined) that wish to hinder, hamper or harm the gospel. James, however, has a different worry. He’s not worried about the gospel, the Bible, or God. Why would God need defending anyway? No, what worries James are Christians who aren’t aware or worried about their own violence, their own zealousness and pride, their own warring both personally and publicly.

He worries about Christians who refuse to be wise. He worries about their “friendship with the world” in vs. 4. Now, here’s where it gets interesting.
One of the most oft-cited verses of my childhood was from vs. 4 “friendship with the world means enmity with God” and, I was told, both explicitly and implicitly, that fleeing such friendship with the world was a simple moral calculus: “Don’t cuss, don’t drink, don’t chew. Don’t go around with girls that do.” Forego Rated R movies, avoid the very appearance of sexual impropriety, and hate secular things, like music, government, etc. But that’s not what James is saying. Avoiding “friendship with the world” is not about hating the world (that doesn’t make sense of the gospel at all, remember John 3:16). It’s about refusing to buy into a system that the gospel seeks to overthrow – the belief that by my own desires and designs, using violence, I can bring about what’s good or right. When James warns the church against friendship with the world he’s warning them not to believe that they can bring about what they want and what God wants if they just have a bigger stick or harsher word, in service of the truth.
          2.    Put your hands down (and out) or How to receive a gift, vss. 5-6
James diagnoses the problem not as a problem of knowledge but disposition and goes on again to offer a brief, impromptu Bible study by bringing up Proverbs 3:34. First he give us his explanation and then the scripture itself. In vs. 5 he states that the Scriptures teach us that “humans yearn toward envy/jealousy/zealousness/doing our own thing” – just to clarify. Given the sense of the passage, the best translation is that “spirit” is not the Holy Spirit but our own human spirit. Thus, it says, “the spirit that dwells in you yearns with jealousy.” (jealousy always being a negative word in the Greek Septuagint). It’s a spirit that is given by God and supposed to be used for God’s glory but we often use it for own glory and designs.
           Humans yearn with jealousy/zealousness/pride/cravings
           God gives (more) grace
           God opposes the proud
           But gives grace to the humble.          
Why does God oppose the proud and give grace to the humble? Have we been tricked? Is grace only undeserved and free in the telemarketing sense of the word, where “free” becomes a gimmick to get us to spend all that we have. A few points deserve mention.
·       Grace appears before the commands of vss. 7-10 and is “more than” our own human frailty and jealous spirit. 
·       We’ve already heard James discuss that wisdom, grace and humility aren’t earned but gifts that “come from above” to be received.
·       And that requires that we surrender and submit to God, which he reminds once again in vs. 7 of our passage. To surrender and submit is to open our arms and unclench our fists.
·       So when it says that God “opposes” the proud, I tend to read that theologically as suggesting that pride and grace cannot occupy the same space. He’s not saying that God hates the proud or refuses to love them. No, Jesus died for sinners, including the prideful and God is always a willing gift-giver, particularly with grace. But the craving to control our lives and the pride that we are somehow in control means that our hands our often full with worry, anger, bitterness and fear, making us incapable of receiving God’s free gift.
·       Perhaps an analogy will help. We approach God like this (arms clutched around ourselves) or
 like this (dukes up). And God says, “I want to give you a gift” but if I refuse to open my hands what can God do? I am incapable of receiving what is free I must open my hands or put down my dukes and I must do that again, and again, and again.
·       In other words, you can’t ultimately believe that God is the who lifts you up (vs. 10) while patting yourself on the back for doing it yourself or by fighting to achieve God’s ends. The hardest work I’ve ever done in my faith walk was surrendering to God and allowing him to transform me.

          3.    Don’t cry pretty, vss. 7-10
There are 10 commands in the final three verses: submit, resist, draw near, cleanse, purify, lament, mourn, weep, let laughter be turned, and humble. Four are sad things: grieve, mourn, wail, change laughter to mourning. The largest grouping of these imperatives have to do with lament. The antidote to pride, James says, is a bit of sadness, to weep at the state of our world, but more importantly at the state of our own soul.
C.S. Lewis understood the power of lament: “We must lay before Him what is in us, not what ought to be in us.” We must trust God with what God already knows. We will never be humble if we cannot be honest. And we will never be honest if we cannot openly admit and cry about the state of our soul and the pain of sin.
Humility is not so much a command, it seems to me, but the culmination of a life of surrender and the ability to confess sadness. It is the ability to state honestly where we’re at. It’s the ability to admit – we’re human. One of the most painful experiences I’ve witnessed as a pastor was a funeral for a beloved faculty member at Westmont. It was all triumphalism. The tears were getting wiped away before anyone had a chance to weep. There was no chance to engage with the fundamental reality that it’s a fallen world and people get sick and die, hurt each other, refuse to love, engage in hate —and that it hurts. The beginning and ending imperative are the summation of what we’re after. Not to look good but to submit to God. Not to work harder but become humble and we cry because we can’t.
Upper middle-class, white churches aren’t criers. I’m always
amazed, however, at the underlying pain that fills this place, that simmers under the service, because we refuse to weep at our sin, our frailty, our brokenness. Maybe you can’t cry. Don’t worry, I’m not going to make you but simply tell you two things in closing. First, if you can’t cry, you will not grow. You will not be capable of receiving the grace that God is ready to give. Second, if you can’t cry. Don’t fake it. Tend to the painful stories of others. Sit with the aching hurt of others – pick one person to listen to and love on without trying to fix it. Stop trying to make yourself look pretty. Stop trying to put on a brave face and listen to this: On the night when he was betrayed . . .
 


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