Concluding Bible Study

Fulcrum Bible Reading James

To conclude our day together I would like us to reflect together on something we all know and love.

It appears to have very early origins, and so might lay claim to offer the kind of ‘ancient wisdom’ that is fashionable in some circles. But many have questioned whether the form in which we now have it really represents the original that it claims to be. Over the years there have been many attempts to find a unifying theme, or centre, but these quests have invariably foundered in the face of the many—apparently disconnected—elements, none of which can easily be ignored. At key moments influential figures, who claim to have rediscovered the truth of the gospel, say that it is not just on the margins of that truth, but actually beyond it, and that it has no value whatever. The best thing is for true believers to ‘come out’, to leave it be and gather together around the things we know are true and central to faith. So now, it sits on the margins, often neglected, apparently disconnected with where the real action is (even at awkward moments at odds with centre of action) and without much prospect of a future. And yet…and yet it continues to have an undeniable, even paradoxical, popular appeal, its cadences resonating with human experience, so it continues to be, against all logic, a place to which people keep returning.

I am talking, of course, not about the church but about the letter of James.

At first sight it claims rather straightforwardly to be a circular letter to early Jewish Christian communities, under pressure, from James, the brother of our Lord, the emerging leader of the church in Jerusalem. Each of these elements raises questions.

Early? Why then so many parallels in style with second century literature? Jewish? Why then the Hellenistic turn of phrase in its Greek? Christian? Why then the focus on works (of the law?), the failure to reference the Holy Spirit, the Lord’s supper, or a proper understanding of justification? Under pressure? Why the focus on economic issues, when surely there were more pressing things to consider? James? Why no reference to his role or authority? Brother of our Lord? Why so few mentions of Jesus, his life, death and resurrection?

But here it is, in the canon of Scripture, coming after Paul and set alongside the teachings of Peter and John, intriguingly lined up in the same order as the authors are listed by Paul as those reputed to be pillars of the church in Gal 2.9.

I am not sure I can offer a solution to all these questions in the time I have now (unless you all like Christchurch New Malden so much that you would like to stay for the evening) and you can always enrol on my course at St John’s as part of your CME…! But the key to all these is identifying a central truth around which the elements of James’ letter orbit like planets in a solar system. This truth is not explicit often (you don’t look at the sun directly very often), but it throws light on each area, holds each in its place and gives to each its life and energy.

We are immediately confronted with the question of whether James does embody truth, and if so of what kind? Part of the puzzle of James is that, whilst it does not fit with certain readings of Paul, it has unmistakable connections with the teaching of Jesus, most startlingly in the command in James 5.12 to ‘let your yes be yes and your no be no’, an almost exact echo of Jesus’ teaching in the sermon on the mount. Somehow or other, it seems as though our careful rationalising of the soundest theology has moved us away from the one we follow, and the directness of James’ call brings us home despite our theological protests. James might be less connected with Paul, but he is certainly more connected with Jesus. Or perhaps that should read, James is less connected with a Lutheran Paul, read through modernist spectacles which are grubby with fingerprints caused by careless handling and rather scratched and cracked from bumping into too many post-modern objections. (This is not a dig at a particular tribe, but it simply one example of the truth that our thinking about Scripture is always more colonised by the values of the world than we like to imagine—and that is true for all of us in different ways.)

(I have reached the stage of life where I know lots about spectacles. I do so much close work with books and screens that I am getting more and more short-sighted, and have glasses and lenses to correct that. But it now my short-sightedness needs so much correction that when it is corrected I cannot see things near to me and now need glasses to correct the over-correction. I wonder if this also can serve as a metaphor for both culture and the church today, which often appears to be gazing vacantly into the middle distance.)

James does embody truth, but he embodies truth in the same way as his brother. According to Richard Bauckham, the letter appears to be echoing the wisdom of the Jewish sage Jesus (and Bauckham is not someone I would argue against in a hurry!) Just as we find Jesus’s sayings pithy, memorable, radical, challenging and ultimately impossible to put into practice, so we find James’ teaching equally radical, memorable and inspiring—hence its popularity in spite of scholarly uncertainty.

How will we find something unifying in James? Peter Davids (in his NIGTC commentary) offers an elaborate four-layer structural solution with a kind of half-inverted chiasmic integration, which I give to students as way forward. It is usually greeted with head-scratching and the question: Can the quest for unity really be solved by means of structure? You might have heard that question asked in other contexts recently.

No, the key is to grasp a theological truth. And I would like to persuade you that the theology truth at the heart of James—the unity of theme—is the theme of unity—or at least unity understood in a particular way, as integrity.

We have struggled to define spirituality today, but it is worth reflecting on definitions. An integer (my dictionary tells me) is a whole number; a number that is not a fraction, in other words, it has not been broken into parts. (You can only describe a fraction as the adding together of several other bits.) A second meaning, by extension: a thing complete in itself; something that is untouchable. Jane Morris commented earlier that unity is vital for mission, and this was clearly the case in the early church. I think it was Irenaeus who argued that the gospel is seen to be true (in contrast with Gnosticism or other heresies) because Christians agree with one another. There was an integrity, and integratedness (if you will) about their witness which was in sharp contrast to the fractioning and fragmentation of heresies.

The great cry in our culture is for integrity. Isn’t that what the current broo-ha-ha about MPs expenses is all about? Isn’t this what the loss of national identity is about in a global, post-modern context where everything is fragmented? And doesn’t our culture of regulation make the assumption of the death of integrity? You might be a doctor, or teacher, or policeman or politician but we cannot trust that you will do the right thing unless you have filled in three forms to tell us that you have. Integrity, in its many forms, is the key to missional engagement with our culture. So here are six points (all beginning with I).

1. The Integrity of Humanity

The reason why the lowly can boast and the proud should be humble (1.9–10) is in the face of the great leveller, death—we all share a common mortality, and any distinction made on the basis of temporary, observable features of life which undermines this notion of unity is not to be trusted. The notion of ‘favouritism’ or ‘partiality’ (2.1, 9) is expressed by the word prosopolempsias which is a term that Peter, the next pillar in the post-Pauline canon, also uses. Translators struggles to express this; the AV says God is ‘no respecter of persons’ which says something rather different now. It is related to the word prosopon (face), and means literally (which is not literally, but etymologically) ‘God does not take the face.’ That is, partiality involves looking on the outward (face) rather than the inward (heart) and separating the two. ‘Man looks on the outside, but God looks (clap, clap) on the heart’ according to the chorus based on 1 Sam 16.

This is a sharp challenge to our visual age, when often a face is all you ever see. The disintegration of virtual identity arises from the ability to present a face (often of your own choosing) but to hide your heart.

But this is also a sharp challenge to our churches. Do our churches reflect James’ integrated humanity? Does this gathering (composed as it is of people who believe the true gospel and are concerned to share it with our nation) represent the educational, social, economic, cultural and ethnic mix of our nation? Would James’ vision of the integrity of humanity support a mission strategy to win the nation which targets boys from public schools as future leaders and shapers of our country—the future elite who, won for Christ, would win the nation?

I am aware that, as a white, middle class son of a merchant banker and teacher from suburban London, educated at a public school and Oxbridge, with four degrees and a comfortable income (thanks not to the church but to my GP wife), these are difficult questions to face.

As a New Wine charismatic I am clear that when the Spirit comes to a church the first thing he does is install a projector and screen. But one of the questions I ask those in training at St John’s is to consider: what does that do to expectations of literacy for your congregation? And how will that affect your mission given that the average reading age in the UK is around 12? These practical and strategic questions connect very quickly with our theology of humanity, and James reveals to us the incipient homogeneity in our practice of mission and pastoral care.

2. The Integrity Within and Among Believers

Trust in God is the opposite of being ‘double minded’ (1.7 and 4.8). And in different ways, there is a clear emphasis on the practical unity of believers, not least in confessing to one another and praying for one another (5.16).

There is a sense that all that has been said this morning comes under this heading, so I won’t say much more about it. It was interesting to me that Hugh chose a passage of Paul’s writings which perhaps echoes most closely James’ concerns here, with his language of ‘rivalry’ and ‘selfish ambition.’

3. The Integrity of Speech and Thought

The only occurrence of telieos in the body of James comes in relation to the use of the tongue: the one whose speech is under control is perfect (3.2). If we speak evil, then we are like a spring that, instead of giving one kind of water, gives two (3.11) and this falls short of the perfection to which God calls us.

The impatience of the internet often makes our exchanges tinder-dry and it is no wonder the flames spread far and wide.

4. The Integrity of Faith and Action

The key emphasis of James in the section on faith and action (2.14–26) is that the two belong together. Faith that is real expresses itself in action and that the two cannot be separated; for Abraham, ‘faith was active along with his works’ (2.22). There is no sense here of James opposing the one with the other—rather, the opposite. Interestingly, this is precisely the point at which James again draws on the idea of perfection, in this case in using the verb teleio.

As a teenager struggling to share my faith in a way that won people rather than just winning arguments (though winning arguments had a satisfaction of its own) I remember reading Michael Green telling me that ‘It doesn’t matter what you believe as long as you are sincere’ is a poor excuse that needs demolishing. Unfortunately, I think much of my evangelical nurture inducted me into the converse of this: ‘It doesn’t matter how you act, as long as you believe.’ Society’s craving for integrity finds this aspect of Christian faith universal and universally unpalatable. Gandhi famously once said ‘I would become a Christian if I could see one.’

In his book The Logic of Evangelism, William Abrahams quotes research by Gallup in 1986 which showed how ethical, spiritual and evangelistic life remained (more or less) untouched by church attendance. Abrahams concluded, ‘we say we are believers, but perhaps we are only assenters.’ We are ‘Pauline’ Christians, converted in head and heart, but we are often not yet ‘Jacobian’ Christians, converted in hands and feet.

James won’t let us say that the only thing in mission that really matters is evangelism. And he might have some questions to ask of congregations where the leadership (clergy) to all intents and purposes inhabit a different world from their members and as a consequence often offer unrealistic models for mission.

5. The Integrity of Time, of Present and Future

Many commentators note how unusual it is for literature focussing on the importance of wisdom and sharing characteristics of ‘wisdom’ literature to have an eschatological focus as James does. But there is a sense in which James is calling for a unity of perception here. If the future shows us what is true, then we need to live in the light of this in the present. Any separation of the present appearance of things and the future reality of things is misleading. The future stands on the doorstep of the present (5.9) as indeed Jesus proclaims in his first preaching ‘The kingdom of God is at hand’—the future promise destiny of his people and indeed the whole world is now close enough for you to reach out and touch.

(I wonder if you noticed the little eschatological corrective in our first song? Not ‘When Christ shall come… and take me home’, a sentiment found nowhere in Scripture, but ‘shall take his throne.’ The integrity of present and future is also an integrity of heaven and earth. In Rev 11 we read not ‘Now has the kingdom of this world been left behind for the kingdom of our Lord’ but ‘Now has the kingdom of this world become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ.’)

This integration of time has huge implications in three directions. Firstly, we cannot abandon the past in facing the future. Yes, we need to be a church which is semper reformanda but we need to make sense of Scripture in the light of how previous generations have made sense of Scripture—and this is what that oft-bandied term ‘tradition’ must mean.

Secondly, we live in a world (in the West) which is now, in the internet age, living in a bewildering succession of new ‘presents’ which come and go with frightening speed and leave us disoriented. Zigmunt Bauman writes, ‘…consumerism is notable…for the renegotiation of time…Life whether individual or social, is but a succession of presents, a collection of instants experienced with varying intensity.’ This means that contemporary communities ‘are not empty of sociability or neighborliness, but no-one in them becomes a long-term witness to another person’s life’ (Sennett).

Thirdly, there is the question of tribes and denominations. One of the debates we have in college is what does it mean to be Anglican. What is a distinctively Anglican spirituality or ecclesiology or…whatever. My first response to this is to say: ‘Give me a biblical theology of denomination and I will give you a definition of Anglican distinctiveness.’ I haven’t had to answer the question yet. Tell me if I am wrong, but I cannot find denominational differences in the description of the new heaven and earth in Rev 21. If they are not there, how can they be here? The only function of tribes in the new creation is to join together with others from every people, language and nation to suffer, testify and praise together.

6. The Integrity of God

Hugh Palmer opened by describing a spirituality of unity as being about ‘how we speak to God and to one another’. James tells us that how we speak to God, and how we listen to God, must shape how we speak to one another.

The confession that ‘God is one’ (from Deut 6.6) was and is central to Jewish belief, and occurs near the middle of James (2.19). This belief is worked out in the notion that God is unchanging (1.17, which includes one of the occurrences of teleios in James), since there are not two sides to God, a dark side and a light side, but one. This is not a unity, an integrity, over against truth but a unity of truth—the truth of who God is. He is one. (From a grammatical and mathematical point of view, it’s a curious idea, isn’t it, that there can be two integrities about anything…! It seems to me that two onenesses makes a twoness, not a oneness…) Even Jewish scholarship from the Middle Ages is clear that this central conviction is not primarily about statistics, but about integrity.

It is also worked out in the idea that it is not God who tempts; God does not (on the one hand) lure us into evil and then reprimand us for not doing good. His purpose for us is consistent—that we should be perfect. And the different aspects of our integrity reflect the different aspects of God’s integrity. There is no shadow of turning in God from the working class to the middle and upper class, from the poor to the wealthy. There is no shadow of turning from the stammering to the articulate. There is now shadow of turning from what do to what we intend. There is no shadow of turn from the expression of the gospel in tangible action to the expression of the gospel in clear articulation. There is no shadow of turning from the realities of the world to the ideals of heaven.

How do we embrace this kind of integrity—or perhaps, a better question, how do we allow ourselves to be embraced by it, to be shaped, to be formed by it? Well, here at the end we come to perhaps the most embarrassing omission of James, the lack of reference to the Spirit. Or do we? Perhaps the Spirit is present, perhaps the presence of the Spirit actually suffuses the whole of this letter, as the silent partner, waiting patiently and with humility to be invited to do his work. (It’s an interesting reflection on the importance of humility to reflect that we don’t often discuss the humility of God though we often discuss his power…). James writes in the style of wisdom and the style of Jesus, because Jesus was the one anointed by and full of the Spirit of wisdom.

And the Spirit of the LORD shall rest upon him,
the Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of counsel and might,
the Spirit of knowledge and the fear of the LORD.
And his delight shall be in the fear of the LORD.
He shall not judge by what his eyes see,
or decide disputes by what his ears hear,
but with righteousness he shall judge the poor,
and decide with equity for the meek of the earth;
and he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth,
and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked.
Righteousness shall be the belt of his waist,
and faithfulness the belt of his loins.
Isaiah 11:2-5 ESV

Do you hear the resonances with the letter of James? James invites us to be formed in the integrity of God, by the Spirit of God, after the pattern of Jesus the wisdom of God, as we are transformed by the word of God. Perhaps this marginal letter can give us the key to unity, to mission, to holiness in an age when the church is increasingly finding itself on the margins.

Ian Paul