Count it all joy, my brethren, when ye fall into various temptations,
James opens his letter. Before anything else, he tells believers how to read the hard things happening to them. He does not tell them to endure trials, or to explain them, but to count them. That raises two questions: what kind of trial he means, and how anyone can call it joy.
Older translations use the word "temptations" here, where the ESV has "trials of various kinds." In this chapter that word covers two very different things.
We have to remember that a believer meets two kinds of temptation. One kind comes from trials outside us. The other comes from sin within. James puts both before us. First he says, "Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds." These are trials from outside. Through them the enemy tries to turn us away from our heavenly calling, and to stop us from pressing on to the rest God promises. Then James speaks of a very different kind. He says, "But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire." That is temptation from sin within.
We can welcome these testings because of what they test, and because of the value God puts on it.
The temptations he speaks of are the things that try us and put us to proof. Sometimes they take the form of enticements that spring from our own desires, as verse 14 shows. Sometimes they do not. God never entices us. But He does allow, and even send, many testings from outside. These work "the testing of your faith" — they put faith to the proof. Anything of value has to be tested, and God sets great value on faith.
The same trial meets two entirely different responses, depending on what the heart believes about the One who allowed it.
In this world of sin and ruin, God works in grace. He also disciplines souls. He turns trials of every sort into an occasion of blessing for all who acknowledge Him and seek His guidance. Self-will hardens itself against each trial, or gives way to discouragement and even despair. Faith recognises the love that never changes. It judges the self that resists His will or despises His word. As faith bows, it gains, and it grows by knowing Him.
Kelly is also clear that this does not mean feeling nothing:
Christians are not spared sorrow — far from it. Nor should we stop feeling that sorrow, any more than we should forget God's grace. So the trial throws us back on Him. Not a sparrow falls to the ground without Him, and He has numbered the very hairs of our head.
There is a way of taking trouble well that still falls short of the verse.
People are meeting these hard times, we believe, with real courage. But that could be said of anyone. Is our courage Christian in character? Does it come from knowing the riches we have in Christ? We are thankful to say we have not heard grumbling and discontent: there has been quiet resignation and acceptance of what God has permitted. This is good, but it is not what James speaks of. So often we are resigned and quiet and even trustful; yet not marked by JOY.
The word "all" is not decoration.
The goal in view is that we may be "perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." That is worth wanting. Keeping it in view we shall be able to rejoice in some measure. James is not satisfied with some measure of rejoicing. He says, "Count it ALL joy." It would be no small thing to count it fifty percent joy. But he calls us to count it one hundred percent joy! That is a high standard — but the faith of Christ always sets perfection before us.
Joy is possible because the trial is going somewhere.
James urges his readers to count persecution as all joy, as Paul had done in Romans 5, and for the same reason Paul gave. The testing of faith works patience. It breaks a man's will. He has to wait for God to act. He feels how much he depends on God. He learns that he lives in a world where God alone can bring about what is needed, and God alone can overcome and stop the power of Satan.
The same lesson turns up in other letters.
We turn to Paul's letters. Romans 5 says in other words very much what James says here. Turn to Peter, and his first letter has more about suffering than any other letter. "And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you." Peter speaks of sufferings, Paul talks about tribulation, James talks about temptations — but note, they all tell us of the great value that lies in these things.
- Tested — the trials here come from outside, not from our own desires. God never entices. He does allow and send testings, because faith is worth proving.
- Counted — joy here is a verdict, not a mood. Faith sees unchanging love behind the trial. Self-will hardens or despairs.
- All — not fifty per cent; quiet resignation is good, but it is not yet the joy James asks for.
- Endured — the testing works patience. It breaks our will, and we learn to wait on God instead of acting apart from Him.
- Complete — the aim is a believer lacking nothing, and Paul and Peter say the same, so this is no isolated demand.
knowing that the proving of your faith works endurance.
Trials come uninvited, and James tells his readers to meet them with joy. This verse gives his reason: testing works on faith, and what it produces is endurance.
How can anyone rejoice while in trouble? Only one thing makes it possible: knowing what the trouble is for.
What will enable us under such circumstances to rejoice? Only those things James goes on to speak of. We are to know that all these things are meant to test our faith, and that the testing is going to work out endurance, a quality God prizes very highly.
The same knowledge turns up in Romans. One writer shows why faith is what makes the difference:
Here, too, James explains the ground of joy in sorrow: we know that the proving of our faith works out endurance. The apostle speaks the same way in Romans 5:4 about the saints "knowing that tribulation works out endurance." Both are equally true. But tribulation plainly could produce no such effect unless there was the faith that stood the test.
What is God testing for? He is not running an experiment to find out whether faith exists.
The need is to prove our faith. This does not mean to prove whether we have faith, but rather to make clear the preciousness of the faith we have. Gold is not put into the fire to prove that it is gold, but to bring out the precious qualities of the metal. So God proves our faith by various trials to bring out the precious qualities of our faith. Faith, counting on God in the trial, leads to submission to what God allows: faith in God enables the soul to wait in patience.
Where the ESV says "steadfastness," older translations say "patience." One writer explains what the word carries:
James tells us that the trying of our faith "works patience," and patience, as you know, has in it the thought of endurance. It is the testing of your faith that works endurance. God permits the trials to come upon us so that we may be tested. Then, when patience has done its perfect work, we may be perfect — that is, carried to completion — and entire, wanting nothing.
Another writer draws on a scholar's definition to show the courage packed into the word:
Bishop Ellicott says: "In the noble word for endurance there is always, in the New Testament, a background of manly courage. It marks not merely the endurance, but the perseverance — the brave patience with which the Christian fights the many obstacles, persecutions and temptations that meet him in his conflict with the world within and the world outside."
How does a test turn into endurance? One writer points to what the trial takes away: our own will and our own timing.
The trial of faith works patience. It breaks the will of man. He has to wait for God to work. He feels his dependence on God. He feels that he lives in a scene where God alone can produce the result desired, overcoming and stopping the power of Satan. Often, when we are busy with what is good, we may wish the work would go faster, the difficulties would disappear, and the persecution would stop. But the will of God — not ours — is good and wise.
Order matters. When patience comes first, the trial teaches something different — and Job is the example.
I was struck by the order in Romans 5: "patience" before "experience." Take away the patience, and the tribulation would only be the experience of Satan's power. But with "patience" in its proper place, the experience becomes the experience of God's goodness, and tribulation works patience. So in James 1:3 and 5:11 Job's case was a wonderful example. His very failure served to bring God's faithful goodness out more clearly.
- Knowing. Joy in trial rests on a fact, not a feeling: you know what the testing is for.
- Proving. The fire does not ask whether gold is gold. It brings out qualities that only pressure makes visible.
- Enduring. The patience God works is not resignation. It is brave perseverance under pressure.
- Breaking. Trial breaks our will. We wait for God to work instead of rushing the result ourselves.
- Completing. Let endurance finish its work, and you are carried to completion, lacking nothing.
But let endurance have [its] perfect work, that ye may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
Verse 3 said that testing produces steadfastness. Verse 4 adds a warning: we can cut the process short. What does it mean to let endurance finish its work, and what "perfect" does God promise to someone still in the middle of trouble?
The older translation these writers use reads, "let patience have her perfect work." One writer defines that patience by what it refuses to do:
Patience holds a person steady, so that he waits in God's way for the outcome of the trial. It refuses the shortest way that the flesh teaches. Saul, for example, could not wait patiently.
Saul was Israel's first king.
Endurance can begin well and still stop short. One writer names the point where it fails:
When the love of God is known, and the will broken, there is confidence in God. But patience must have her perfect work. Otherwise the will revives, and confidence in self comes back instead of confidence in God. We act without God, apart from His will; we do not wait on Him, or else impatience and the flesh show themselves in us. Job was submissive for a long time, but patience did not have her perfect work. Saul waited long for Samuel, but he could not wait quietly until Samuel came, and he lost the kingdom.
"Perfect" here does not mean flawless. It means finished:
It is the testing of your faith that works endurance. God permits trials to come upon us so that we may be tested. Then, when patience has done her perfect work, we may be perfect — that is, carried to completion — and entire, wanting nothing.
This completeness is about one thing: what we want. It does not mean there is nothing left to learn, as the next verse shows.
Affliction is God's dealing with us. It acts on us outwardly, and inwardly too by His grace, and it puts patience to the proof. When this work is finished, we are wholly subject to God and desire nothing apart from His will. Then we are perfect and entire, lacking nothing. This does not mean we have nothing more to learn about His will; verse 5, which follows, says the opposite. But the state of soul is perfect as to the will, and as to our relations with God. He can reveal His will to us, because it is the only thing we desire.
The word "perfect" can sound like a ladder we climb to earn standing before God. One writer rules that out:
Patience is a wonderful thing, and it is a great thing to have patience that does not give way. You must wait until God has worked things out in people's souls. James insists on it: "Let patience have her perfect work, that you may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing." But this does not touch the perfection of the work of grace. People imagine they reach holiness by weakening the work of grace. They talk about being justified and then made fit; but you will never find that in Scripture. Scripture says plenty about progress. But none of it is connected with our being made fit for the inheritance of the saints in light.
When a trial chafes, one writer suggests where to look first:
Let patience, then, dear friends, have its perfect work. There is not one of our souls that does not need this. If trouble or conflict wears on us, let us ask whether it is because our own wills have been crossed. We have to be patient with circumstances, no doubt, but also patient with God's perfect work.
One writer lists what these hard circumstances make possible:
We may prove the grace and sufficiency of God, by the Holy Spirit, in these difficult circumstances. We may discover the infinite resources in Christ in the middle of these circumstances. We may come to know Him closely, in a way we will never gain in heaven if we do not gain it on earth.
- Let — endurance only finishes if we allow it. We cut it short by taking the flesh's shortcut out of the trial.
- Wait — Saul waited long, but not long enough, and lost a kingdom. Job was submissive for a long time, and still patience did not finish its work.
- Will — the mark of the finished work is a broken will: wholly subject to God, desiring nothing apart from His will.
- Complete — "perfect" means carried to completion in what we want, not that there is nothing left to learn. Verse 5, which follows, shows there is more.
- Grace — none of this earns standing before God. Scripture speaks of progress, but never ties our fitness for the inheritance to it.
But if any one of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all freely and reproaches not, and it shall be given to him
James places this promise right after his words about trials, at the point where testing has exposed what we do not have. It raises a practical question. When we do not know what to do, where does wisdom come from, and on what terms is it given?
Wisdom here is more than understanding. One writer draws the difference from the way people react when things go wrong:
James has just said that the goal is for us to be complete, lacking nothing. Then at once these words follow: "If any of you lacks wisdom …" How often our trials reveal that lack! A child howls when things go wrong and it gets hurt. It lacks understanding. It cannot imagine why this has happened, or what it is for. The grown man in the same situation sets himself to understand, and profits by the trouble. But wisdom is more than mere understanding. The wise man is one who can apply with discretion the things that he understands.
The verse names one address for this need, and part of its comfort is what it rules out.
Even if we are willing and truly want to do the will of God, we may often lack the wisdom to act according to His will in our trials. If that is the case with any one of us, James says, "Let him ask God." Our resource is God. We might hold back from turning to people. Their advice might be wrong. They might give it unwillingly, scold us for not knowing, or repeat what we told them in private. With God we need have no such fears. He gives freely, without reproaching us for our folly and feebleness.
God could have made us wise once and for all. One writer counts it a kindness that He did not:
When a soul truly enters the path of trials, he soon finds his lack of wisdom. Faith always meets such trials in a world that has turned from God. But his comfort is that the One he deals with is alone wise, and ready to guide those who wait on Him. How much better that wisdom should stay in Him, so that we depend on His guidance! If it were ours to own, we would be in danger of trying to manage without Him.
The promise says God does not scold the asker. One writer explains the reason, and adds a limit worth noticing.
If we lack wisdom, we are simply to ask God for it. We may be sure of a generous answer, with no word of reproach. We are not expected to hold in ourselves the wisdom that is in God and comes from above. We may ask God for whatever else we lack and expect a generous answer too. But whether we always get it without a word of reproach is another matter. Sometimes the disciples asked the Lord Jesus for things, and He did not give them without a gentle word of reproof… But in those cases what they needed was faith. As believers, we ought to have that already.
People often spoil a gift by the way they hand it over. God never does:
We have known men who gave gifts, but did it unwillingly and with such bad grace that the gift turned bitter. God's gifts are not like that. With them the way of giving is an even greater blessing than the gift itself, if that is possible. "God … gives generously to all without reproach" (v. 5). His manner of giving increases the blessedness of the gift, and reveals His own perfect graciousness.
Another commentator ties the timing of the asking to the outcome of the trial:
"Let him ask God." When trial comes, the Christian's first resource, and the first instinct of the new nature, is prayer. God always hears the prayer of His saints. Strengthened from above, the Christian can go through the trial in a spirit of obedience. In Gethsemane Christ prayed before He was in the trial; then in obedience He took the cup from the Father's hand. If we neglect prayer and the difficulties come on us unawares, we enter into temptation and we fall. Peter slept when he should have prayed, drew the sword when he should have submitted, and denied Jesus when he should have confessed Him.
One writer points to King Solomon, and to why he asked for wisdom:
Solomon did not ask for wisdom out of vanity or for personal advantage. He realised what a tremendous responsibility the Lord had entrusted to him, young and inexperienced as he was. He wanted wisdom so that he could rule God's great people well. May we too seek wisdom from above to function well in our daily tasks, family needs, and in the responsibilities God entrusts to us among His people!
- Lack. Trials expose what understanding alone cannot cover: the wisdom to apply what we already know.
- Ask. People may give advice unwillingly, scold us for not knowing, or repeat what we told them in private. God does none of that.
- Depend. Wisdom stays in the One who alone is wise, so that He guides us instead of us managing without Him.
- Receive. God does not reproach us, because the wisdom that comes from above was never meant to be ours. One writer notes that God treats a lack of faith differently from a lack of wisdom.
- Use. Solomon is the pattern. Ask for wisdom to meet the responsibility God has given, and ask before the trial, not after the fall.
but let him ask in faith, nothing doubting. For he that doubts is like a wave of the sea driven by the wind and tossed about;
God promises wisdom to anyone who asks Him for it. This verse adds a condition — not to His giving, but to our asking — and it pictures the doubter as a wave at the mercy of the wind.
Asking in faith is not an extra step added to prayer. One writer treats faith as the thing that turns asking into prayer:
Faith is the breath of prayer; prayer is dead unless faith breathes in it. "But let him ask in faith" (James 1:6). "And whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith" (Matthew 21:22). Without faith it is speaking, not praying. Faith must take prayer by the hand, or there is no coming near to God. A faithless prayer is fruitless.
Verse 5 has already settled the outcome. That promise leaves no ground for hesitation:
"If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him." God is what He is, and His word is the word of truth. So there is no room for doubt about this: "it will be given him." That is why the verse goes on, "But let him ask in faith, with no doubting." Why should he waver, when God is the unwavering God and His word the word of truth?
There is more here than a rule for us to keep. God Himself has a preference about how we come:
God loves us to send our prayers up to Him in a spirit of confidence in His goodness.
James does not only condemn doubt. He explains it with the picture of a wave, and one writer traces the doubt back to what the eye watches:
So the apostle insists here that the one who asks should "ask in faith, with no doubting." Is it hard to do that? We are told at once how it is hard — where the doubt comes from. "For the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind." He lies open to the influence of the things around him — the things the eye looks at the moment God is not before it.
A wave has no direction of its own. In prayer, that means our asking rises and falls with our circumstances:
The wave is exposed to winds from every quarter. We must not let the difficulty of the circumstances or the strength of opposing evil shape our prayers. In simple faith we look to the One who is above every opposing influence of evil — the One who can walk on the waves and calm the storm. He alone can give us the wisdom to act according to His will.
Not every inner struggle is the doubt James means. Grant draws the line:
James is not speaking of the exercises an honest soul may have while working out what the way of the Lord is. He is speaking of the instability that comes from a double mind: the strife of our own wills with God's will, the desire to have Him act according to our mind instead of desiring to act according to His mind.
So the promise of verse 5 needs care. If we are really asking help for a plan of our own, the answer may come in a form we did not expect:
If we ask wisdom, how can He deny us? But suppose we mean wisdom to carry out some plan of our own devising. Then, if we are in earnest, the wisdom He gives must be wisdom to drop that plan.
The doubter is not being punished for nothing. His own state is what keeps him from receiving:
The word here is not the usual word for a wave; it means a single billow, and here it is the plaything of winds blowing this way and that. How could it be otherwise with the man who in his weakness does not lean on the Lord? Whatever may be given, there is no real receiving from the Lord on his part who does not trust Him. If in one way he speaks, in another he feels and acts, being of double soul. Instability marks all his course.
Doubt costs the doubter, but it also touches God:
So we need unwavering confidence if we want our prayers answered. To doubt is to dishonour God, and it kills our own prayers.
- One breath. Faith is the breath of prayer — without it, asking is speaking, not praying.
- One promise. There is no room to waver, because God is the unwavering God and His word is the word of truth.
- One eye. Doubt starts the moment our eye leaves God and studies the circumstances. Then the wind decides our direction.
- One will. The instability James condemns is not honest searching. It is our will fighting God's — wanting Him to act our way.
- One result. The man who does not trust receives nothing from the Lord. Instability marks his whole course.
for let not that man think that he shall receive anything from the Lord;
Verse 7 gives the verdict on the doubter James has just described: a person who prays with a divided mind should not expect anything. But is God refusing to answer, or is the doubter unable to receive — and what sort of doubt does James mean?
The verse is not aimed at every believer who has felt uncertain while praying. One writer locates the problem in a will that competes with God's.
The apostle is very emphatic here: "That person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord." But what is he talking about? He is not talking about the searching an honest soul may go through in discerning the way of the Lord. He means the instability that comes from a double mind: the strife of our own wills with God's will, the desire to have Him act according to our mind instead of desiring to act according to His mind. Clearly this is not the way to get wisdom. Yet how much of our prayer is often just this strife with God! How often we think that if we only had energy of faith in this way, we might in some sense bend Him to our will! But that would be no blessedness. His will is the perfect one.
The verse does not say God gives nothing. It says the man should not think he will receive. One writer traces this to a man whose words and inner life pull in opposite directions.
Whatever may be given, there is no real receiving from the Lord on the part of the one who does not trust Him. If he speaks one way, he feels and acts another way. He is a man of divided soul. Instability marks his whole course.
The result is practical. God's help can arrive and go unnoticed.
He who asks of God, and yet asks with a doubting mind, is not likely, whatever he may receive, to take it as from the Lord... And when God's mercy works for such people and things turn out well, they do not see His hand in it or receive it as from Him. They attribute it to their good fortune: they say, as the world would say, "My luck was in!"
The image just before this verse is a wave shifted by whatever wind is blowing. Applied to prayer, it describes a mind that rises and falls with the circumstances.
We must not let the difficulty of the circumstances or the strength of opposing evil shape our prayers. In simple faith we look to the One who is above all opposing influences of evil — One who can walk upon the waves and calm the storm. He alone can give us the wisdom to act according to His will... With a double mind we will be unstable in all our ways. Circumstances look good or bad, and we are driven one way or the other.
Hesitancy can feel like humility. One writer calls it something far more serious: it questions a word God has already given.
Doubt is no harmless modesty. It is sinful. Indeed I am afraid it often goes further than mere timidity — it is downright unbelief; and this will always hinder prayer... If God, in His condescending grace, is willing to give us promises, surely it is not unreasonable to expect us to believe them. Would we not take it as an insult if someone doubted our word? If God, the God of truth, pledges us His word, we should believe it is pure truth. A single doubt creeping in will spoil the prayer.
Sometimes the delay is not judgment at all. And sometimes the wisdom God gives is not the wisdom we requested.
No doubt there are things God is ready to give, and yet He waits for us to have faith in Him about them. He may keep us waiting until we have more of the faith that honours Him. But this is a different matter altogether. If we ask wisdom, how can He deny us? But suppose that means wisdom to carry out some plan of our own. Then the wisdom He gives, if we are in earnest, must be wisdom to drop that plan.
One writer pictures the divided person trying to hold two things at once.
Suppose we say, "I will follow Christ," and hug the world at the same time. One arm holds the world, and the other tries to hold Christ. Do you think that will do? No! That is a double-minded man, and such a man is "unstable in all his ways" (James 1:8).
- Divided. The warning targets a double mind: our will wrestling against God's. It is not aimed at the honest soul searching for God's way.
- Driven. A divided mind moves with the weather. Prayers rise or sink as circumstances look good or bad.
- Deaf. God may still act, but the doubter cannot receive it as from Him; a happy outcome gets filed under good luck.
- Dishonouring. Doubt is not harmless modesty. It questions a word God has already pledged, and one intruding doubt spoils the prayer.
- Decided. The remedy is an undivided heart — asking for wisdom while ready for that wisdom to overturn our own plan.
[he is] a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.
James has been speaking about asking God in faith. Here he names the man who does not: a man with two minds inside him. The damage is not limited to his prayers. It touches everything he does.
The phrase describes a person split down the middle. His words and his real feelings do not match. One writer traces that split to its root:
How could it be otherwise in him who in his weakness does not lean on the Lord? Whatever he is given, the man who does not trust Him receives nothing real from the Lord. He speaks one way, but he feels and acts another way, because he has a double soul. Instability marks his whole path.
James is not warning the honest soul who is still working out God's will. He is describing a will that fights against God's will:
The apostle is very direct here: "That person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord." But what is he speaking about? He does not mean the struggle an honest soul may have while working out what the Lord's way is. He means the instability that comes from a double mind. It is the fight of our own will against God's will. It is the wish to have Him act as we think, instead of wanting to act as He thinks. Clearly, that is not the way to get wisdom.
That explains a common frustration. Prayers can be repeated for years and stay unanswered because the heart behind them was never whole:
Why is it that our prayers are not answered? James gives us two reasons. One is double-mindedness — that is, the mind half on one thing and half on another. If my mind is half on the world and half on Christ, I may pray every day of my life and get no answer to my prayers. Oh, when I seek the Lord, let it be as it is beautifully put in the book of Chronicles: "They sought Him with all their heart and with all their desire." That kind of prayer will be answered.
A divided aim drains the energy out of a life. The result shows in behaviour that will not hold steady:
Mark this: it is where there is one single object that there is practical energy and power. "A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways." In some things, he acts like a Christian; in others, he does not. If he has two or three objects, he is unstable, but if he has one object he walks with energy.
Trying to hold both never ends in an even split. One side wins:
"A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways." A man tries to keep one eye on the world and the other on Christ. He ends up with no eye for Christ and both eyes for the world. It must be so: Christ must be all or nothing... The Holy Spirit is jealous for the glory of Christ. He can never give comfort, consolation, or strength to a heart divided between Him and the world.
Others notice too. This kind of Christian earns nobody's respect:
There are a good many people who profess to be Christians. But they have too much of Christ to enjoy the world. And they have too much of the world to enjoy Christ, or to do any real service for Him in the world. They are the people whom nobody respects. They are the people without a backbone.
The cure is not more effort at balance but a heart made one. It is something to ask God for:
The psalmist longs for the Lord to teach him His way, with a firm purpose of heart to walk in the truth. So he asks God, "Unite my heart to fear Your name." That is the opposite of a divided heart — one part for the Lord and another for self. A divided heart is double-mindedness, and James 1:8 tells us, "a double-minded man is unstable in all his ways."
A settled heart also brings peace. The wavering man never finds it:
A wavering man is never peaceful. He is always tossed to and fro. He tries to please everybody, and in the end pleases nobody. The decided man, on the contrary, is he who feels he has "to please but One." This gives unity and fixedness to the life and character.
- Two souls. The double-minded man speaks one way while he feels and acts another, because he does not lean on the Lord.
- Two wills. Prayer fails not when a soul honestly seeks God's way, but when our own will wrestles with His.
- Two eyes. The man who keeps one eye on the world and one on Christ ends up with both eyes on the world.
- Two objects. One aim gives energy. Two or three give a life that acts like a Christian in some things and not in others.
- One heart. The cure is to ask, "Unite my heart" — and the settled heart gains the peace the wavering man never finds.
But let the brother of low degree glory in his elevation,
James turns from trials and wisdom to two believers sitting side by side: one has nothing, the other has plenty. He tells each to boast in what the world would hide — so what does a poor man already have to boast about?
The verb here is not the ordinary word for being glad. One writer sets the two words apart, and notes where the older Authorised Version blurred them:
Everywhere else it means "rejoice", or "be glad"... But the verb ought not to be confused, as the Authorised Version does, with kauchaomai, "I boast", as in Romans 5:2, 11; Philippians 3:3; James 1:9; James 4:16.
So James does not tell the lowly man to cheer up. He tells him to make his boast — to point at something and say, this is what I have.
The verse sits in a passage about testing. Money and rank both offer a way around the trial:
(Verses 9-11). We may also try to find a way of escape from trials through social position or riches. As Christians we should rejoice that our standing before God does not in any way depend on social position in this world. Let the brother in a humble position in life rejoice that Christianity has lifted him into a new spiritual position, far above all the glory this world can offer. In that position he has fellowship with Christ and His people now, and he will share in the glory of Christ in the world to come.
The lift is not a promotion in this world, and it has a mirror image for the man with money:
So the lowly brother can boast in his elevation, because the glorified Christ is not ashamed to call him brother. And the rich one can boast in his humiliation, in fellowship with Him who emptied and humbled Himself to the death of the cross. Whatever our natural place, we are now by grace not of the world, as Christ is not of the world. So we can read glory in the humblest believer, and the wealthy and honoured can write nothingness on what human nature values highly. For as the Lord said, what is exalted among men is an abomination in the sight of God (Luke 16:15).
One writer points out who is set opposite the lowly brother:
He contrasts "the lowly brother" with "the rich", and not, as we might have expected, with "the brother of high degree". The rich, as James uses the term, mean the unbelieving rich. They were the leading men of wealth, influence and religious reputation for holiness, and almost every one of them was in deadly opposition to Christ.
Other commentators read the rich man as a believer who boasts in being brought low. On this they differ.
Time is the test of any boast, and only one kind survives it:
The lowly brother boasts in his exaltation. The gospel fills up the valleys as surely as it levels the mountains. This exaltation is not for a moment and does not pass away, while the earthly things that lift men up must pass. So the rich man, if he really is a man of faith, boasts in his humiliation — in the mercy of God that has made him aware how quickly everything here passes, so that even in the things he has he is only Another's steward. If the things do not die, we die out of them; and how quickly the beauty fades even from what still exists! There is only one unfading inheritance, where everything is eternally as fresh as at the beginning.
This is not a private consolation. It changes who sits with whom:
The lowly brother is exalted to have fellowship with Christ and to share His glory. However humble he may be, he becomes, even in this world, the companion of all the brothers and sisters... The rich own them as brothers, and they meet together at the Lord's table as possessors of the same privileges. They rejoice together. The poor man rejoices in his exaltation, because Christ is not ashamed to call such people "brothers". The rich man boasts in that title far more than in all the titles that belong to him in the world... The one who takes the lowest place will be great in the kingdom of God.
- Boast, don't cope. The word is not "cheer up" but "make your boast" — the poor believer has something to point at.
- Boast because lifted. The exaltation is not a better job or address; the glorified Christ is not ashamed to call him brother. The rich man's mirror boast is in being brought low.
- Boast because levelled. The gospel fills the valleys as surely as it levels the mountains, so rank stops deciding anything before God.
- Boast because lasting. Every earthly thing that raises a man passes; this exaltation does not — there is only one inheritance that never fades.
- Boast out loud. The proof is visible: rich and poor own each other as brothers and sit together at the Lord's table.
and the rich in his humiliation, because as [the] grass's flower he will pass away.
James writes to believers under trial. Here he sets two opposites side by side: the poor believer glories that God has lifted him up, the rich that God has brought him low. The second half is the strange one. Why should losing standing be a reason for joy, and what does a fading flower have to do with it?
The pairing is deliberate. Wealth and poverty are both passing circumstances, and God does not rank people by them.
Everything built on a passing set of circumstances is doomed, and has nothing to do with the nature of God, which the Son of God has revealed in truth and grace. So God reverses the judgment of the world in all these matters.
The rich man's low place is not just loss. It puts him in company with his Lord.
So the lowly brother can glory in his elevation, for the glorified Christ is not ashamed to call him brother. And the rich one can glory in his humiliation, in fellowship with Him who emptied and humbled Himself to the death of the cross. The wealthy and honourable can write nothingness over what human nature values highly.
There is also an exchange in it: one kind of riches for another.
Let the rich rejoice that God has brought them low as regards the possessions and glory of this world, and has brought them to share in the unsearchable riches of Christ. Compared with Christ and His glory, the riches and glory of this world are only flowers that fade and perish. When the apostle Paul found Christ in the glory, he counted these earthly advantages as loss. So when a Christian boasts in birth and social position, he boasts in the very thing that Paul poured contempt on in his own case.
Commentators differ. Some read him as a believer who still has wealth but no longer counts it his own.
So the rich, if he really has faith, glories in his humiliation. He glories in the mercy of God that has made him aware of how quickly everything here passes. In the very things he has, he is only Another's steward. He too has been given a higher exaltation, and that makes him content to let the earthly one pass, as he knows it will.
Others take the contrast in the verse as the clue, and hear a warning instead of an encouragement.
He contrasts "the brother of low degree" with "the rich," and not, as we might have expected, with "the brother of high degree." The rich, as James uses the term, means the unbelieving rich. These were the leading men of wealth, influence and religious standing, and almost every one of them was in deadly opposition to Christ. Great they might be in the eyes of their fellows, but they were like grass in the sight of God.
The sun completes the picture. The beauty is real, but it is short.
On the other hand, God knows how to bring the rich low by His wise governmental dealings, often through persecution. It may not be easy to rejoice in this. But many have done so, and have found that the spiritual blessing which follows far outweighs all loss in this life. How good it is for a rich man to remember that the flower of the grass is beautiful, yet it is only come and gone. Such is the boasted prosperity of man. The burning sun — the heat of trial in the world — withers the grass, which is mankind in general, and reduces the lovely flower, the rich and noble, to an ugly death.
This changes how rich and poor sit together.
The rich own them as brothers, and they meet together at the Lord's table, sharing the same privileges. They rejoice together. The poor man rejoices in his exaltation, for Christ is not ashamed to call such people brothers. The rich man glories in that title much more than in all the titles that belong to him in the world. The world despises that title and counts it for nothing. But he knows that the glory of this world passes away like the flower of the grass.
Neither man can obey this verse by looking at his circumstances. Both need faith.
Faith makes things real. It lifts us above the circumstances of life... The rich believer can rejoice in faith in his trials, that he is made low, that he can suffer loss. He realises that all his riches are only for a moment, but that he has an inheritance that does not fade away.
- Reversal. God overturns the world's ranking. He lifts the low, brings the high down, and tells both to rejoice at it.
- Exchange. Losing worldly standing is not bare loss. The rich man trades it for a share in the unsearchable riches of Christ.
- Fellowship. The rich man does not go low alone. He glories in it beside the One who emptied Himself to the death of the cross.
- Expiry date. The flower is beautiful, and it is brief. The sun rises, and prosperity is gone with it.
- Table. The proof is rich and poor meeting as brothers, with the wealthy man valuing that name above every title the world can give.
For the sun has risen with its burning heat, and has withered the grass, and its flower has fallen, and the comeliness of its look has perished thus the rich also shall wither in his goings.
James ends his contrast between the poor believer and the rich with a picture anyone can see. A field is bright at dawn and burnt colourless by noon. So the question is not whether wealth is wrong. It is how long anything built on wealth can last, and what its owner should do about that now.
The picture works on two levels. The field stands for people in general, and its bloom for those at the top.
How good it is for a rich man to remember this. The flower of the grass is beautiful, yet it only comes and goes. That is what man's boasted prosperity is like. The burning sun (the heat of trial in the world) withers the grass (people in general), and it brings the lovely flower (the rich and noble) to an ugly death.
The verse puts the fading inside the man's own activity: he fades while still busy. One writer notes that the verse even sets this in the past tense, as if it were already over.
Everything men think great and solid fades away. The verse compares it, truly and beautifully, to the short-lived bloom of grass, and puts it in the past tense, as a thing already passing... The flower of the grass dies before the scorching heat of the sun, and "so also will the rich man fade away in the midst of his pursuits." What is more certain, or sooner forgotten?
Even wealth that outlives its owner gains him nothing, and while he holds it he holds it for Another:
The rich man, if he really has faith, glories in being brought low — in the mercy of God that has made him aware how passing everything here is, so that even in the things he owns he is only Another's steward. If the things do not die, we die out of them. And how quickly the beauty fades even from what still stands! There is only one inheritance that never fades, where everything is forever as fresh as at the beginning.
Commentators differ. Some read the words as a warning to the wealthy outside the faith, men who looked great to everyone around them:
"The rich," as James uses the term, means the unbelieving rich: the leading men of wealth, influence and religious reputation... They might be great in the eyes of their fellow men, but in the sight of God they were like grass. Grass produces flowers, and their form has real beauty about it, but the burning heat of the sun quickly withers it all.
Others read the same words as instruction to a believer who happens to be rich. He can rejoice at losing his place in the world:
Let the rich rejoice that they have been brought low in the possessions and glory of this world. They now share in the unsearchable riches of Christ. Next to Christ and His glory, the glory and riches of this world are only flowers that fade and perish.
God ranks people the opposite way round from the world. One writer traces that reversal back to the nature of God Himself:
Everything built on a merely temporary set of circumstances is doomed. It has nothing to do with the nature of God, which the Son of God has revealed in truth and grace. So God reverses the judgment of the world in all these matters.
These verses sit among trials for a reason. Wealth and position look like a way out of trouble, but faith deals with trouble another way:
Faith makes things real. It lifts a person above the circumstances of life. The poor brother, in the middle of his trials, can rejoice by faith that he is lifted high. The rich believer can rejoice by faith in his trials that he is brought low, and that he can suffer loss... knowing that all his riches last only a moment.
If the best of human nature is short-lived, we need something outside ourselves that lasts:
Human nature is fallen, and it has no stability. Its flower is short-lived through and through... If human nature at its best is weak and failing, man needs something that lasts. So, against everything that fades away, "the word of the Lord (Jehovah) remains forever."
- Fading — the sun rises and the flower is gone. Human prosperity has the same short life: it comes and goes.
- Fading mid-stride — he fades while still busy with his own affairs. Either the things die, or we die out of them.
- Fading, so reversed — anything built on passing circumstances is doomed, so God reverses the world's ranking of poor and rich.
- Fading, no refuge — money and position look like a way around trial. Faith lifts a person above circumstances instead, whether by being raised or by being brought low.
- Not fading — one inheritance stays as fresh as at the beginning, and the word of the Lord remains forever. Commentators differ over which rich man James means, but neither one can keep the flower.
Blessed [is the] man who endures temptation; for, having been proved, he shall receive the crown of life, which He has promised to them that love him.
In James's letter, trials are the setting for a promise. The verse calls the person who endures blessed, and it names the reward — a crown of life, promised to those who love God.
God calls the one who endures blessed while the trial is still on, not only when it is over. One writer sets this in the wider shape of the Christian life:
The believer is blessed when he passes through temptations and bears them with patience. This is the normal state of the Christian (1 Peter 4:12). The desert is his pathway; his calling is patience here and glory hereafter. He is tested here. By grace he stays faithful and steady in temptation and trial. Afterwards he will inherit the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love Him. The life that has no trials is no life, but the one who is tried is blessed.
James now turns to a second kind of trial. One writer marks the line clearly:
The Apostle moves on to warn us of another character of trial. He has been speaking of the trial of faith that comes from circumstances outside us (verses 2, 3). Now he warns us not to confuse that trial with the trials that come from the flesh within. God can try us with outward circumstances. But God cannot be tempted with evil, and He does not tempt anyone to do evil.
Knowing which one you are in changes who you are dealing with:
Trial (or temptation) may come to us from two sources. It comes from God when He tests our heart and faith — "God tested Abraham" (older translations read "tempted"). It comes from the enemy when it reaches us through wrong desire, and the flesh joins in. How much better it is to have to do with God in the trial than with Satan!
"When he has stood the test" points to something already examined and approved. The verse places today's reader in a long line of tested people:
Happy is the man who endures trial. So it was with men of marked faith long ago — Job, Abraham, David, and the prophets; so it is now for every believer, and it is made plain by Him who endured more than all, and as He alone could... "Because, having been put to proof (or approved), he shall receive the crown of life, which He promised to those that love Him." ... How sweet, while we are pilgrims and strangers, to have so cheering a promise in the trial we endure!
The crown answers the very thing trial threatens: life itself. One writer draws out the reversal:
The Lord delights to own the faith of His saints; and if they have shown that they did not love their life in this world, even to death, it will be as though they had gained it in the world to come. Life will be a crown to them there, as the glorious reward of their not having cared for it here.
Commentators differ here. Some read the crown as belonging to every believer, since the promise names those who love God:
It is called "the crown of life." James says God promises it to all who love Him (1:12). All who are born of God do this, so it is hereditary — not through our first birth, but the second. In Revelation 2:10, in days when believers were being killed for Christ, the First and the Last, who died and came to life, spoke of that crown to encourage those who suffered.
Others, reading the same Revelation passage, tie the crown specifically to dying for Christ:
We must see what being faithful to death means here. It is not simply staying faithful all through our natural lives. It means dying for the sake of Christ and His word. It is a call to be faithful even at the cost of life.
The promise speaks to those who love God. That love changes how we take a trial:
We often rebel in trials because we love ourselves and want to defend and vindicate ourselves. But if we love Him, we should endure for His sake.
- Blessed — God calls the one still under trial happy. The desert is the Christian's road, and glory comes after it.
- Tested — the pressure comes from outside, from God's hand. The pull from within is a different thing, and it is not from Him.
- Approved — the crown follows a test already passed. Job, Abraham, David and, above all, Christ walked that path.
- Crowned — life becomes the reward of those who did not cling to life. Commentators differ over who receives it — every believer who loves God, or those who die for Him.
- Loving — self-love makes us rebel in trial. Love for Him makes us endure for His sake, and that love is the only thing the promise asks for.
Let no man, being tempted, say, I am tempted of God. For God cannot be tempted by evil things, and himself tempts no one.
Verse 13 turns a corner: James has been speaking of trials that come from outside, and now he deals with the pull toward evil. He shuts down the excuse people reach for first — that God is behind it.
One word covers two experiences. One writer sets the earlier verses of the chapter against this one:
The Apostle passes on to warn us of another character of trial. He has been speaking of the trial of faith that comes from circumstances outside (verses 2, 3). Now he warns us not to confuse this kind of trial with the trials that come from the flesh within. God can try us with outward circumstances, but God cannot be tempted with evil, and He does not tempt anyone to do evil.
Another writer contrasts this use of the word with its use elsewhere in Scripture:
Temptations elsewhere mean trials, not inward pulls toward evil... Here, on the other hand, we find the common sense of temptation. Sadly, the fact that it is common shows where people are. They have little to do with God and much in common with the world.
The reason is not that God keeps away from evil. His nature makes evil impossible for Him. One writer draws this from the picture of God as light:
Light cannot change, and God cannot be corrupted or stained. No moral poison can come into His moral nature. No evil, no sin can ever originate or be in Him. What He is in moral nature and character He has always been and must always be. He cannot be deceived; He "cannot be tempted with evil."
This belongs with a short list of things Scripture says God cannot do:
While it is clear there can be no limit to His power, we know He is governed by His love, and, in the area of moral truth, there are certain things He cannot do. "He cannot deny Himself" (2 Timothy 2:13). "God cannot be tempted with evil" (James 1:13). "God is not unrighteous" (Hebrews 6:10).
Genesis says God tested Abraham, which sounds like a flat contradiction until the two senses are kept apart:
Yet we are also told in the same Scriptures that God tested Abraham when He told him to offer up Isaac (Genesis 22:1). This must have been a different kind of temptation from the one James speaks of. It was certainly not an enticement to do evil. It could not have been. It is as impossible for God to tempt a man that way as it is for Him to lie. It was a testing of what was in Abraham. His faith was put into the crucible, and it came out, as we know, as gold tried by the fire.
The next verse locates the real culprit. One writer separates what God permits from what a person supplies:
The devil tempts us with evil. But he finds in us what he counts on as ready to yield. In fact, anyone is tempted when he is drawn away and enticed by his own lust. This is the only thing that makes him accessible. God is over all in permitting the outward pull, but the inward pull comes from man himself. There he is master of himself, and so responsible for the outcome always being against him.
Yet even the evil we meet is not outside God's control:
It is impossible for Him to tempt anyone with evil. But He may permit His people to be tempted with evil, and He knows well how to overrule even that for their ultimate good.
Why does James say this at all? Because when we fail, we look for somewhere to put the blame. One writer treats that move as no small fault:
There is no need for a child of God to fail, nor does God in any way tempt to evil. On the contrary, the one who has found Christ and yet fails by sinning is always without excuse. To allow the thought that God's providence has anything to do with this is little short of blasphemy. Even if we have gone wrong, let us beware of adding to it by throwing it on God and excusing ourselves at His cost.
The distinction also guards how we speak of the Lord:
The first of these passages speaks of temptation or trial coming from outside; the second, of desire or lust within. Our Lord faced the first kind throughout His whole life. He was absolutely incapable of the second.
- Two words in one. Trial comes from outside and can be counted joy. Enticement to evil comes from within. One English word, two different things.
- Two natures. Evil cannot reach God, because of what He is. It reaches us, because of what we still carry within.
- Two sources. God may permit the testing. The lust that answers it is ours, and that is where responsibility sits.
- Two responses. The excuse throws the fault on God. Faith owns the fault and leaves God's character untouched.
- Two hearts. In us the temptation finds something ready to yield. In Christ it found nothing — He knew every outward trial and none of the inward.
But every one is tempted, drawn away, and enticed by his own lust;
James traces temptation back to its starting point. The pull comes from inside the person, not from God. So what is this "desire" that drags a person away? And if it starts inside us, who is to blame?
James has already written about trials in the opening verses. Now the source of the trial changes.
He has been speaking of the trial of faith that comes from circumstances outside us (verses 2, 3). Now he warns us not to confuse that kind of trial with the trials that come from the flesh within. God can try us with outward circumstances, but God cannot be tempted with evil, and He tempts no one to do evil. We, though, can be tempted by evil through lust within, and so be enticed into doing evil. Judas was enticed by the lust for money in his heart. He fell into the devil's temptation and satisfied that lust by betraying the Lord.
The word behind "lust" is the same word the Bible uses for "desire." What makes it good or evil is what it reaches for.
"Desire" and "lust" are really the same word... The thing longed for is what gives the feeling its character. If the thing craved is good in God's sight, then it is a holy desire. The Lord Himself uses this same word when He says to His disciples, "I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer." (Luke 22:15.) But when the thing longed for is evil, then the desire for it is "lust." ... "Lust," as James teaches, starts in ourselves (chapter 1:14), but holy "desire" is the fruit of the Spirit of God working in the believer.
The verse before rules out one excuse: God. This verse rules out the other: our circumstances.
The real root of all temptation lies within ourselves, in our own lusts. We may blame the enticing thing which from without was presented to us, but the trouble really lies in the desires of the flesh within.
Something offers itself from outside; something inside answers. That inner answer is what makes a person reachable at all.
The tempter does not throw suggestions at random. He fits them to what is already there.
If Satan were to suggest eating a handful of mud and dirt, would anyone be inclined to do it? If he succeeds in touching us, it is because there is a desire in the sinful nature to which he adapts himself. If we are full of Christ, he will not succeed. But if the suggestion wakes up in our hearts, sin wakes up into active desire, even though we may resist it as we should. If we look to Christ, we shall be victorious.
Temptation and hardship do not feel the same.
I know too well that when Satan tempts us there is an echo inside, an answer there. Instead of being suffering to us, it is pleasure.
If temptation of this kind needs an inward desire to work on, then it could not touch Christ.
The Lord was tempted in every way as we are, yet He could not be tempted like this. It would have denied and destroyed His moral glory... He did not have, and could not have, such evil temptations from a corrupt nature, because His nature was holy through and through. There was no lust of His own to draw Him away or attract Him. So He always rejected evil suggestions from outside with indignation.
Paul says elsewhere that sin produces lust; James says lust produces sin. Writers treat these as two angles, not a clash.
The difference between these two declarations is this: Paul keeps to the spiritual principles, while James looks at their effects. The one completes the other. The sin which is in the nature produces the lust (Rom. 7); and the lust produces the sin in the conduct of the man. (James 1.)
That leaves one place to look for strength.
No force of temptation would be enough to upset or draw away a soul that was finding its strength in God Himself. So a person is really "tempted" — that is, the temptation succeeds with him — when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. What exposes him to the evil is in himself, and not in his surroundings. A soul that fully knows its own helplessness and rests in God for help cannot be broken by any attack. Self-confidence, then, in some form, is the secret of all failure — the root of every sin we actually commit.
- Two words, one spelling. One word covers two things: trials God sends and enticements He never sends. This verse is the second kind — temptation from the flesh within.
- Desire named by its object. The word means longing. What it reaches for decides whether it is holy desire or lust.
- The hook needs a mouth. Bait from outside only works because something inside is ready to answer. That answer is what makes a person responsible.
- One exception. Christ had no lust of His own to draw Him away, so this verse describes every man but Him.
- Break it at the root. Judge the desire and the sin stops there. A soul that rests in God, not in itself, cannot be reached.
then lust, having conceived, gives birth to sin; but sin fully completed brings forth death.
James pictures sin as a family line: desire is a mother, and the child she bears grows up to have a child of its own. So who is to blame for that line, and where does it end?
The chain starts inside a person, not in the circumstances around them.
When we sin we tend to lay a great deal of the blame on our circumstances, or at least on things outside us. If only we are honest before God, we have no one and nothing to blame but ourselves. How important it is to be honest before God and judge ourselves rightly in His presence! That is the high road to recovery of soul. It will also help us to judge and refuse the lusts of our hearts, and so nip sin in the bud. Lust is the mother of sin. If it works it brings forth sin, and sin carried to completion brings forth death.
Elsewhere Paul puts the order the other way around. Commentators treat the two as fitting together rather than clashing.
Paul said the opposite in the Letter to the Romans (Rom. 7:8) — it is sin which produces every kind of lust. The difference is this: Paul keeps to the spiritual principles, while James looks at their effects. Each one completes the other. The sin that is in the nature produces the lust (Rom. 7); and the lust produces the sin in a man's conduct (James 1).
Because James starts his account at the birth of sin, some argue that desire itself is innocent. One writer asks where desire comes from.
Where does it come from? It is the fruit of the sinful nature: "sin, seizing an opportunity through the commandment, produced in me all kinds of covetousness." Those who rest on the fruits in James find no sin until it has conceived and brought forth. Those who go to the root with the word of God know that there is sin in the flesh. If Satan were to suggest eating a handful of mud and dirt, would anyone be inclined to do it? If he succeeds in touching us, it is because there is a desire in the sinful nature to which he adapts himself.
Jesus was tempted, but not in this way. The process here needs something inside the person for the lure to catch on.
The Lord was tempted in all points in a similar way. But He could not be tempted like this. It would have denied and destroyed His moral glory, and it would have frustrated God's purpose in saving us to His glory... He had not and could not have such evil temptations from a corrupt nature, because His was expressly holy. There was no lust of His own to draw Him away or allure Him. So He uniformly rejected evil suggestion from outside with indignation.
One writer reads David's fall as this verse acted out step by step, in a man who had every reason to know better.
Had David always walked in the presence of the Lord he would have heeded the warning of His law. What a warning there is here for all believers! The flesh is the same today as it ever was; it does not change. We are told to "make no provision for the flesh" (Rom. 13:14). Put in other words, this means: do not feed the flesh by indulging it... "I have made a covenant with my eyes; how then could I gaze at a virgin?" said Job (Job 31:1). David knew no such covenant. He looks where he should not have looked, and sin soon follows.
One writer takes the verse's last word further than the grave.
You commit sin. "And sin when it is fully grown brings forth death" (James 1:15). This is more than the death of the body. It is eternal death in the lake of fire.
Since the sequence completes itself, the only safe place to act is before conception.
Whether Satan or men tempt him, he himself is responsible for yielding to it. And once lust is indulged, it conceives and brings forth sin; then of course sin results in death. So judging the root of self-indulgence is the one way for the child of God to meet this: the temptation is to be refused.
Waiting until later is not an option, because the later stages carry their own momentum.
One sin leads to another. We cannot stop just when we choose in the path of sin. As one has said, "A man cannot stop his boat at will in the strong currents just above Niagara, though he might have avoided them altogether."
- Mother — Desire is not a bystander; it is the parent. Blaming your circumstances hides the real culprit.
- Child — The birth is sin in conduct. James traces the effects; Paul traces the source, and the two accounts complete each other.
- Bloodline — The lure only catches because something in our nature answers it. In Christ there was nothing to answer it, so the chain never started.
- Grandchild — Death is the end of the line, and some read it as reaching past the grave.
- Break it — Refuse the temptation and judge the root early. Further down, as David found, you cannot stop the boat where you please.