On Doing It Anyway--January 11, 2022
"Blessed is anyone who endures trials. Such a one has stood the test and will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him." [James 1:12]
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Every kid I know has been asked a question like that at some point or another. Children are asked that question from the time they go off to kindergarten, and we only intensify our interrogations as they get older. So before long they know what grown-ups mean when they ask that particular question--the adults are talking about jobs. Whether the answers are lofty and ambitious (astronaut, Olympian, president, and the like), adventurous (firefighter or superhero), or grounded in some aptitude they show in childhood (architect, mechanic, teacher, engineer, musicians, etc.), we start teaching our children from the earliest ages to think about paid employment. That's really what the grown-ups are asking when they say, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
But I wonder... what if the question were less about "what place of employment you go to for a paycheck" and more about "what sort of people we grow into"? What if the answers to be inviting our children and grandchildren to think about are more like, "I want to be kind when I grow up," or "I want to be wise when I am an adult," or "I want to be strong and loving and generous and truthful..."?
I ask that because it seems to me that the writers of the Scriptures are a lot less interested in what jobs we have (and even less about how much money we make or how much we contribute to the Gross Domestic Product), and a lot more interested in what kind of humans we are. They care about whether we grow up into people of compassion and integrity, of perseverance and grace, of humility and wisdom. They care that we be people in whom the character of Jesus can be seen, and that we be mature, rather than childishly self-absorbed.
And the more I think about it that way, the more certain I am that those are the kinds of answers that matter, far more than how much money you make or what your title is, by comparison. And when I keep that in mind, I can get where James is coming from. I don't hear this verse as a hoop to jump through in order to win a heavenly prize. I don't think this is about earning God-points for going through a certain amount of suffering. I think it's more a glimpse about what kind of human it is worth becoming. It's James giving us another sketch of the kind of humans we are meant to be--regardless of what we do for a paycheck.
So, yeah, being the kind of person who can endure through difficult circumstances is the kind of life that's worth striving for. The word used in this verse can be translated "temptation" or "trials" (the way I've proposed translating it above), and it's the root word used back at in the very opening of this book, when James had said, "Consider it all joy when you face trials of any kind..." In other words, it's about how we endure through all kinds of difficulties and make good choices through them. It's about making the choice to do the honorable thing, the decent thing, the compassionate thing, the selfless thing, when we are faced with a hard situation.
All too often, I hear folks talk about their faith as though Christianity offers some plan for how to avoid suffering, get out of having to go through hard times, or to be spared difficult things in life. And just as frequently, I hear people who identify as Christian complaining about inconveniences or the general difficulties of life as though they are being "persecuted" for their faith, as though being a follower of Jesus should be exempt from having to face the tough stuff of life, or as though Jesus hadn't specifically called us to enter more deeply into the hardships of others to walk with them in their difficult times.
James, however, is under no such illusions. He doesn't think that the "blessed life" is one that's free of difficult choices. He knows that the "blessed" kind of life is one that is able to face those dilemmas and do the good thing that is also the hard thing. That's what it is to endure trial or temptation--it's the ability to act with grace and integrity in our character, even when that is costly. It's the refusal to sell-out just because it seems easier. It's the choice to put the interests of others before our own. It's the willingness to look foolish or be called a loser because you're less interested in looking tough than you are in being decent.
Those choices often mean doing what's good--what reflects the character of Christ, you could say--even when nobody is looking, and when you won't get a pat on the head or a like on social media as a reward. But as James points out, God knows. God knows and sees the times we are faced with the difficult thing and we do it anyway. God knows the costs we bear, even if nobody else can see the pain you are willing to endure, the loss you are willing to absorb, or the tears you are willing to shed, for the sake of acting with integrity and love. And, rather like Jesus reminding us that there comes a point for the words, "Well done, good and faithful servant," James, too, here says to us, "When nobody else notices, God sees. When it feels like you've done good and nobody sees, God does. When you've gone the extra mile and spent your love and minutes for the sake of adding a bit more brightness to the world, even if it seems like it was for nothing, God knows. And in those moments, you get a glimpse of how God loves the world even when we don't see it or appreciate it. In those moments of doing the difficult-but-nevertheless-right thing, we show a family resemblance to Jesus, who was willing to give himself away no matter the cost. It's less about a promise of a prize or a heavenly gold-star-sticker, and more about the promise that our willingness to do good in a world full of rottenness is still worth doing, even if it looks like it's all for naught. It may seem like it's all for nothing, but we do good anyway, and trust that God can do with our small actions what God chooses.
These days, in the mornings when I wait with my son for the bus to come, the last words I say before the exchange of "I love yous" is this sentence: "Remember, buddy: do not be overcome with evil, but overcome evil with good." The words are obviously borrowed from another Bible passage (see Romans 12:21), but I think those moments are in the same spirit as James' words here. When we face whatever difficult stuff the day will throw at us, and we have responded to the rottenness with goodness, it matters... even if it doesn't look like it from the vantage point of this day. But we keep at it anyway, trusting that God can use all those seemingly insignificant choices to be decent, truthful, diligent, and loving--to do the hard-but-right thing.
That's the kind of human I would be proud to see my son--and my daughter--become when they grow up, regardless of what they do for a paycheck. Honestly, that's the kind of human I am still striving to be now.
Lord God, give us the ability to face the difficult choices of this life with strength, grace, and integrity, and to trust that you still see and use those choices of ours for good.
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