But be ye doers of [the] word and not hearers only, beguiling yourselves.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
For if any man be a hearer of [the] word and not a doer, *he* is like to a man considering his natural face in a mirror
The picture James draws is of a man at a mirror: he looks, he sees, he walks away, and the face he saw leaves no trace on him. That is what hearing the word without obeying it does to a person. Has the Bible ever left a mark on you, or has it only reflected you for a moment?
The whole force of the picture lies in what a mirror cannot do.
When a man stands before a mirror, the mirror reflects his image for just as long as he stands there. But nothing takes root in the mirror. It reflects his face, yet the mirror itself feels no effect. It stays wholly unchanged, even if it reflects ten thousand things in turn on its face. The man leaves, his image vanishes, and all is forgotten. It is just like this if a man merely hears the Word without any thought of obeying it.
The sight in the mirror can be sharp and honest. It can also be gone in a moment.
He may have a very clear view of himself. He sees what he is like for a moment, and then forgets it all. He looks at himself and goes his way. The image has faded and gone... This is that glimpse of conviction by the truth that comes to souls. The light of God flashes over and through a man, and he has to see where his thoughts spring from and what his feelings are. But how soon it passes away, instead of entering in and staying within the soul! Only the power of the Spirit of God can engrave these things on the heart. Here the apostle is exposing the absence of an inward work, where the mind is cut off from the conscience.
If the man is the mirror-gazer, the Bible is the mirror. It does two things at once.
James uses the mirror as a symbol of the Word of God. It faithfully shows the man who looks into it what he is. What a merciful provision for us in our wilderness circumstances! When we come to the Word and lay ourselves open before it, it exposes every secret of the heart. It detects every impure motive. It shows up every bit of defilement in daily life, and shows it in its true character, as God sees it. The Word is both the detector and the cleanser of evil.
Forgetting is not always accidental. Sometimes the glimpse stings, and the man would rather not hold it.
He gets nothing more than a passing glance at his inward condition. He never really knows himself. Perhaps the brief glimpse angers him. He is not honest and does not want to know the truth about himself, so he turns away from it to forget... There is a story of a man who bought a Bible from a Bible Society agent. After a while he brought it back saying he did not want it: he did not like it. "Why?" asked the agent. "It kicks me," was the answer. Many are like that.
There is a quieter version of the same failure, where the reading is regular and the heart untouched.
Nothing is more dangerous than trapping believers into a merely formal reading of the revealed word. The conscience can be content that the word was heard, while the heart stays unmoved. So it all becomes powerless. Yet God has communicated His most solemn truths there. Reading them as a mere routine inflicts deep moral loss on the soul, and leads into a hardened state that lays one open to a thousand snares.
What the mirror shows you is meant to be dealt with, not shrugged off.
The Word is a mirror, revealing exactly what we are. That word should leave a lasting impression, so that we correct the faults it exposes instead of forgetting them.
The one who keeps looking gets something the glancer never gets.
The one who hears the Word, bows to it, and lets it act looks into the perfect law of liberty. He does not look into the law to be saved, or to produce holiness. He looks into "the law of liberty," the word of God, which has set us free. He looks into that and continues in it, and is blessed in his doing.
- Mirror. The Word shows you what you are — every secret, every motive, every defilement, as God sees it.
- Glance. A hearer only takes a passing look. Nothing takes root, and the image vanishes the moment he turns away.
- Forgetting. Some forget because the sight hurts and they will not face it. Others read as a routine that quiets the conscience and leaves the heart cold.
- Gaze. The blessed man keeps looking. He corrects what the mirror exposed instead of forgetting it.
- Doing. He looks not into a law that saves, but into the law of liberty — the word that has set him free — and he is blessed in his doing.
for he has considered himself and is gone away, and straightway he has forgotten what he was like.
The picture James draws is of a man at a mirror who sees himself clearly, walks off, and instantly loses the image. James uses it for the hearer who takes in God's word but does not act on it. Why does a true view of ourselves fade so fast?
A mirror gives back a perfect image while you stand in front of it, and holds nothing at all once you step away.
When a man stands before a mirror, it reflects his image for just as long as he stands there. But there is nothing implanted in the mirror. His face shows in it, but this has no inward effect on the mirror. The mirror stays completely unchanged, even if it reflects ten thousand things in turn on its face. The man leaves, his image vanishes, and all is forgotten. It is just like this if a man merely hears the Word without any thought of obeying it. He gazes into the Word and then goes away and forgets.
The failure is not in the mirror. What the man saw was true. It just never got past his eyes.
He may have the clearest possible view of himself. He sees what he is like for a moment, but he forgets it all just as fast… This is that glimpse of conviction by the truth that comes to souls. They are forced to see what drives their thoughts, and what their feelings are, when the light of God flashes over and through a man. But how soon it passes away, instead of entering in and staying within the soul! It is the power of the Spirit of God alone that can engrave these things on the heart. Here the apostle is exposing the lack of any inward work, where the mind is cut off from the conscience. He pictures it in the man who gets a glance in a mirror, and then all is gone the moment his back is turned.
The forgetting here is sometimes not weak memory but unwillingness. Some hurry away because they did not like what they saw.
He gets nothing more than a passing glance at his inward condition. He never really knows himself. The brief glimpse may even anger him. He is not honest and does not want to know the truth about himself, so he turns from it to forget… A man once bought a Bible from an agent of a Bible society. Soon he brought it back and said he did not want it: he did not like it. "Why?" asked the agent. "It kicks me" was the answer. Many are like that. They listen to teaching or read the word. As in a mirror, they see themselves for what they really are, and it shames them. It hurts them: they do not care to face the truth and make haste to forget it. This is a widespread and serious evil.
Bible reading can become a routine that leaves the conscience content because nothing changed.
No way is more dangerous than trapping believers into a merely formal reading of the revealed word. The conscience may be satisfied that it has heard the word, while the heart stays unmoved. Then everything becomes powerless. Yet in that word God has told us the most solemn truths, and they matter deeply to Himself as well as to us. So a careless reading of them inflicts deep moral loss on the soul. It leads into a hardened state that lays one open to a thousand snares.
The cure is a different relationship with the word. You keep coming back to it, and it becomes part of you.
Nature's looking-glass can never give a clear and lasting view of our true condition… The man who keeps turning to the word of God, and who lets that word speak to his heart and conscience, will be kept in the holy activities of the divine life.
The word does not stay outside the person, the way a rule does.
A graft becomes a real part of the plant it is put into. In the same way, the word becomes part of the Christian himself. It is not so with a law, which is always a commandment outside of us. That the word produces effects in us does not at all destroy its authority over us — an authority which is that of God.
- Mirror. God's word shows you what you are. But a mirror holds nothing and implants nothing, so the image goes when you go.
- Glance. The hearer really does see himself. The sight fails because his mind is cut off from his conscience. Only the Spirit engraves such things on the heart.
- Flight. Some forget on purpose: the glimpse hurts, so they turn away and make haste to forget.
- Formality. Reading can satisfy the conscience and leave the heart unmoved. That brings real loss and hardens the soul.
- Grafted. Keep turning to the word until it becomes part of you, like a graft in a plant. It is still God's authority over you, but now it works inside you.
But *he* that fixes his view on [the] perfect law, that of liberty, and abides in [it], being not a forgetful hearer but a doer of [the] work, *he* shall be blessed in his doing.
Between a glance in a mirror and a steady gaze into God's word lies the whole difference James is pressing here. Three questions open it up. What sort of looking does James mean? How can a law give liberty? And why does the blessing come in the doing itself?
James has the law of Moses in view, and one word he chooses carries surprising weight.
It was surely the law of Moses that James had in mind, for it does expose what a man is. But if that were all it did, there would be nothing attractive in it. No one could look hard and steadily into it — for that is the meaning of the word he uses. It is the same word used to describe John's attitude when he stooped down and gazed into the empty tomb of the Lord. One can understand the concentration of his gaze, and the surprise and wonder of it. He saw something in that tomb that he never expected to see.
So why does a real glimpse of yourself fade so fast?
He may have a very clear view of himself. He sees what he is like for a moment, but he just as soon forgets it all... It is that glimpse of conviction by the truth that comes before souls when they are forced to see what the spring of their thoughts is... but how soon it passes away, instead of entering in and staying within the soul! Only the power of the Spirit of God can engrave these things on the heart. Whereas there is power and permanence with the one who fixes his view on "the perfect law of liberty."
"Law" and "liberty" sound like opposites. They stop being opposites once a person already wants what the command asks.
The law of Sinai was written on tablets of stone; it wrote nothing on the heart. It told men what to do but gave them no desire or power to obey it. To be commanded to do what I have no desire to do is bondage, even if I obey. Now, by the word of God we have a perfect revelation of the will of God. By that same word God has also begotten in us a new nature that delights to act according to the word. To be commanded to do what I desire to do is liberty.
James uses the word "law" in more than one sense. This verse gives the third.
He speaks of three laws, or of law in three ways. First, law as such — here, if guilty in one point, guilty of all... Second, the royal law of inward perfection: you shall love your neighbor as yourself. That is doing well. Third, the perfect law of liberty that I look into. That is the revelation of the path of the divine nature, and I now share that nature. Revelation shows me the perfection of it; the divine nature gives me the delight in it. I am blessed in the doing of it as a present thing.
The clearest example of this freedom is the life of Jesus.
This nature loves what God commands. When the person who receives the commandment already wants to do what it asks, he does at the same time what he loves and what he is told to do. Such is the law of liberty, as we see its example in Christ. If anyone had wished to restrain His liberty, He would have had to be hindered from obeying.
James does not stop at looking. He adds staying.
The man who keeps going back to the word of God, and lets it tell on his heart and conscience, will be kept in the holy activities of the divine life.
The blessing is not held back to the end.
He knows God's love in his heart, and finds His word commands what the life he professes takes pleasure in. He delights in obeying God... And so it is the "law of liberty." His heart purified by faith not only accepts but rejoices in the will of God... And as there is no fear in love, so neither is there bondage in it; yet no chains are as strong as its silken cords. So the obedient one is blessed, not only in his end but in his ways — blessed in his doing.
- Look — the verb means a stooping, close gaze, like John peering into the empty tomb. It is not the glance that forgets.
- Liberty — a command you have no desire to obey is bondage. A command you already want to obey is liberty.
- Nature — the same word that shows the path gives the nature that loves it. Revelation and desire move together.
- Christ — He is the living example: to restrain His freedom you would have had to stop Him obeying.
- Doing — staying with the word, not glancing at it, turns sight into practice. The blessing comes on the way, not only at the end.
If any one think himself to be religious, not bridling his tongue, but deceiving his heart, this man's religion is vain.
James has just called his readers to be doers of the word and not hearers only. Now he gives a test anyone can run on himself. It is not about how much religious activity a person keeps up. It is about what comes out of his mouth.
The word James uses describes the visible side, not the inner life.
The word "religious" used here refers to the outward sign. It is not the word for pious or godly. It is not the word for giving religious service or worship to God. It means religious practice paid on the outside.
That outward practice can be worn like clothing, and the word itself carries the idea of being tied to a set way of living.
Someone may seem religious, and many people do put on that cloak. But if he does not keep his tongue under proper control, his religion has no value. Judaism was called "the Jews' religion," because religion is what "binds" a person to a set course of action. Christianity, instead, sets a person free from bondage.
This man is not fooling the crowd. He is fooling himself.
The word here is not really "seems" but "deems," or "thinks himself." The question is not what he looks like to others, but what he thinks of himself. Self-deception gets its chance here because this is not deeds but only loose speech… Yet each of us urgently needs to "bridle his tongue." We each carry an old nature that Christ never had. If we do not bridle the tongue, the evil of our fallen nature finds an easy way out through it; and if we fail to judge that evil, it deceives the heart.
Why does James pick speech as the measure? Because nothing else shows the inner condition so quickly — and closeness to God shows up there too.
"And does not bridle his tongue." The tongue shows the state of the soul faster than anything else. When a man keeps himself in the presence of God, his speech does not turn evil, and he does not talk too much. "But the LORD is in his holy temple; let all the earth keep silence before him." (Hab. 2:20.)
Zeal in good works is not proof by itself.
It is clear then, from verse 25, that we are to be doers of the work and not merely hearers of the word. But even our doings need testing. A man may seem religious and be eager in all his works. Yet if he does not bridle his tongue, his religion is proved vain. He has not learned to be "slow to speak," as verse 19 required. In giving rein to his tongue he is giving rein to self.
So who can master the tongue? The answer is not stronger resolutions.
Who then can control the tongue? "No man" can do it, but Christ can, and we have only to look to Him in simple faith. This means feeling both our own utter helplessness and His all-sufficiency… How often have we suffered from some blunder of the tongue and resolved to command that wild member better next time? But our resolution proved to be like the morning cloud that passes away. All we could do was go away and weep over our miserable failure at self-control. Why? Because we took the matter on in our own strength, or at least without feeling our own weakness deeply enough.
Even so, a bridled tongue is not a tamed one.
By the power of the Spirit of God, a believer may "bridle" his tongue — that is, hold it under restraint. This is a serious responsibility. But let no one talk himself into thinking he has tamed his tongue. If he does, he will almost certainly learn by painful experience that it is still "a restless evil, full of deadly poison." So it needs constant guarding and restraining.
The last test is personal. What has the truth we know actually done in us?
What has the truth that we know done for us? Does it enable us to bridle our tongues when we are provoked? If not, what we know is worse than useless, and our religion is vain.
- Outward. The "religion" tested here is practice on public display. It is the visible side, not the inner life, and a man can put it on like a coat.
- Index. The tongue reveals the state of the soul fastest. A man who keeps himself in God's presence does not speak evil or talk too much.
- Deceived. Speech is cheaper than deeds, so this is where a man fools himself. The verdict falls on what he thinks of himself, not on what others think of him.
- Self. Giving rein to the tongue is giving rein to self. So zeal in good works still has to pass this test.
- Christ. No one can control the tongue, but Christ can. So we hold the bridle by faith and constant restraint, never by resolutions that fade like a morning cloud.
Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, to keep oneself unspotted from the world.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.