Last week, we dug into how to ask God for wisdom amid trials. This week? We see what it looks like to have that God-spoken, plain-and-simple wisdom and what to do with it. And the making-it-personal promise that hard things don’t happen because it’s your turn in the shade, behind God’s back. His light is never blocked from you to be given to another. Yes, it’s hard. But it won’t last forever.

The Technicalities

Do you remember how I said in the introduction to this book that it reads a lot like the book of Proverbs? The first few verses of this section of James’ letter, beginning in verse nine, are evidence of that. In them, James moves from faith that endures trials to the different perspectives of the people inside those trials. For simplicity, he uses two standard classes of people that the Bible has a whole lot to say about—the rich and the poor.

The key to this sentence is in the “let” that verse nine begins with because, with it, James uses a Greek conjunction that often follows negative statements (like that unbelieving, double-minded man, unstable in all his ways – yeah, I’d say that’s negative). At a glance, this looks like a topic hop or a jump to a new proverbial piece of truth. Instead, it can be read, “But rather.”

So, to understand the “rather,” we glance up to where we left off in James 1:7-8 and tie verses 9-10 together with them.

“When you ask [for wisdom],” James writes in the New Living Translation of verse six, “be sure that your faith is in God alone. Do not waver, for a person with divided loyalty is as unsettled as a wave of the sea that is blown and tossed by the wind. Such people should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. Their loyalty is divided between God and the world, and they are unstable in everything they do.”

“But rather,” he continues in verse nine, “believers who aren’t far off the ground materially should rejoice that God has honored them.” When connected to the previous verses about praying in faith, it’s much easier for poor believers to pray in unwavering faith because they don’t have much to begin with. They have to count on Him to provide and give that wisdom and pull through for them because they have no other option. And the ones who are much higher up on the financial scale? They will rejoice when God humbles them and gives them the wisdom to know their own human frailty.

That said, James shifts the conversation back to trials and introduces his second of ten faith truths: that faith understands trials and temptations (and the difference between the two). Now, remember, he just got done talking about how to ask God for wisdom amid trials. This next section shows what it looks like to have that God-spoken, plain-and-simple wisdom and what to do with it (because you are still in that trial). Now, James says, endure it. Continue to be present. Keep waiting under it, bearing it bravely and living it calmly.

“When [you] have stood the test and been approved,” the Amplified Bible says, “[you] will receive [this is the same Greek receiving word as James 1:7] [the victor’s] crown of life which God has promised to those who love Him.” And that crown of life stands in direct contrast to the frailty of the rich man’s riches from verse 11 – 1 Corinthians 9:25 tells you that the ones who strive for a crown prize in an ancient athletic competition get a perishable wreath that will wither and fall off and fade away, but that crown of life that we fight for? It’s imperishable. It cannot and will not wither.

And then there’s temptation. I find it fascinating that James uses the same Greek word for both “trial” and “temptation” because the lines can sometimes feel blurred when you’re trying to understand which one you are facing in order to know how to react (which is the perfect time to stop and ask God for that verse-five-wisdom). Trials? They only ever have positive effects (if you endure them, bear through them, and let your patience through them do its faith-perfecting work). But temptation? It entices you to evil. It’s not something you should patiently stand under, nor should you ever say when you are tempted (because you will be tempted) that God is tempting you.

God is not a bait-and-switch God – Jesus says that very plainly in Matthew 7:7-11. He only gives good gifts to those who ask. And, if you’re asking for wisdom, He will not bait you with evil to teach you wisdom the hard way, and that’s the language that James uses here in verse 14. The Greek word for “drawn away,” exelkō is used in hunting and fishing to describe the game being lured and drawn out from its hiding place. Sister, Psalm 32:7 says it right there in black and white that God is your hiding place, and He will never draw you away from Himself to teach you wisdom. He only ever draws you to Himself (spoiler alert, James himself says that over in chapter four).

God is not the one tempting you. Your own forbidden cravings are. And once you’re enticed? You’ve bitten the bait, impulses indulged, lust conceived, and it is now implanted into your heart where it begins to grow into sin. And sin, once it’s grown to full term, gives birth to death (Romans 6:23). But (thank You, Jesus, for the but), the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus – an incorruptible inheritance (1 Peter 1:4) from an untemptable God.

“Do not misjudge God,” James says in verse 16. “He is a good Father who gives good gifts to the ones who love Him and ask Him for them.” He dwells in unapproachable light so blinding that no person has ever seen or can ever see Him (1 Timothy 6:16). And unapproachable light dwells with Him (Daniel 2:22). He knows what is in the darkness and reveals those deep and secret things – He doesn’t pull you into them, He draws you out of them. He is light, and in Him, there is no darkness at all (1 John 1:5). And, in His light, we see light (1 Peter 2:9).

Every good gift (like wisdom) and every perfect gift (like salvation) comes from Him. He never changes, never rotates, never turns His back, never casts His shadow.

Then, James drops a truth-bomb, the latter part of which can only be said of his originally intended audience of readers. God created you and me out of His own free will. He gave us His Word. But, the believers scattered throughout the Roman Empire in 45 AD? They are what can only be described as a kind of firstfruit – the very first generation of Jesus believers, ever.

“So then, my beloved brethren,” he writes, “because of that holy position, be swift to hear His wisdom, slow to speak misjudgments about Him, and slow to anger as you endure.” Because anger doesn’t prove your faith – it only ever fails it.

Making it Personal

The best way for me to point the light toward your trial is by telling you how God pointed it straight onto mine as I studied this. And the best way for me to do that? It’s by letting the etymology of James’ “anger” word tell its story.

But before we start peeling back the layers of the Greek, it’s important to acknowledge that trials are incredibly difficult. (If they were easy, there wouldn’t be the need for the endure-them admonishment.) And they often bring out the worst in us as we fight for the best of Jesus to float to the surface of our spirit – namely, often, anger. It’s incredibly frustrating to endure something entirely outside your control – at least, it is for me. Even harder? Not knowing how long it will last, when it will end, or how much longer you have left to go.

I’m writing this just weeks after releasing the very first season of the Dig Your Well Podcast. In episode five, I detail living inside of a hidden season where I’m building and writing and creating and growing unflowered, hidden fruit that nobody else is seeing but me and God. I go through waves of days where I hammer away at content inside of my hiddenness, knowing that God will use all of this, eventually, followed by days of helpless, at-the-end-of-my-rope frustration where all I want to do is scream because none of this is inside of my control.

I was reluctant to share this story with you (because it’s not exactly something you would want to talk about over the dinner table), but I have to tell it so that you understand the impact of the Greek linguistics that I’m also about to share. I’ve had a benign skin tag for a couple of years that just sort of came one day and never left. It never changed in size or appearance – it was just there, until about three months ago, as I was writing that podcast episode and wrestling with God over the words that were building up inside me. Later that morning, as I got of the shower, I noticed that skin tag had blown up like a tiny little water balloon. I had to get a needle to release the fluid and eventually have a dermatologist remove it altogether. (That’s the gross part. I’m sorry for the visual.) But the second I saw that blown-up skin tag, I instantly cried because it gave me a clear picture of how I felt (and, as I write this, I still feel). I am about to burst with what I have stored up in this hiddenness. There isn’t any room for anything else. I need a release, and God is the only one who can do it.

Weeks later, I dug into James 1:19 and his “be slow to anger” admonishment inside the context of trials, and my jaw dropped in absolute astonishment as I sat in the presence of Yahweh Yireh, The God Who Sees Me. Because the Greek word for “anger,” orgē describes internal motion, especially of fruit swelling with juice, teeming with it, filled to overflowing and ready to be used. Orgē finds its root in oregō, which describes stretching yourself out to touch, reach for, or grasp something you desire. And do you know where you can see oregō in action? Paul uses it in 1 Timothy 3:1, where he talks about desiring the position of a bishop or elder as a good thing. Oregō is used for the desiring. But, there’s a twist because it’s also used in 1 Timothy 6:10 for the love of money (and, specifically, oregō-coveting after it), and there is a very fine line between desiring something and coveting it.

Oregō is rooted in oros, which means “mountain” (faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains, asking without faith), and has two root words—the first, ornis – a hen. And the second isn’t necessarily a root, but more a Greek word that oros is closely related to –  airo, which is where all of this flips entirely on its head. Because airo? It’s used in Matthew 21:21 – when Jesus tells His disciples that if they have faith and do not doubt (like James 1:6), they will not only do what He just did in the verses before to a fig tree on the side of the road, withering it with a word, they will also say to that oros-mountain, ‘be airo-removed and be cast into the sea,’ and it will be done. It’s used in John 11:39 when that stone sealed the tomb of Lazarus’ fate, and Jesus had it airo-rolled away to make room for the miraculous revival of life, and it’s used in all four of the gospels when the stone was airo-rolled away at Jesus’ resurrection.

Me? Right now? As I write these words, I am fruit teeming with juice. Two days before I dug into oregō, I was wrestling with my frustration of not being juiced in my prayer journal. This monster dream of a ministry feels impossible – like a boulder so large that it’s a joke for me to think I can even slightly nudge. No matter what I do or how I try to use it, it just won’t budge and, instead, seems to get more stuck by ever-decreasing numbers of unsubscribing and unfollowing eyes on it (by about a thousand). There aren’t words for this kind of discouragement. I want to kick the boulder that won’t move, scream at God: Why won’t You move this? Why won’t You lift this? Why won’t You let me out of this?

“Be slow to anger,” James says. And, through the etymology of that Spirit-inspired word, God whispers: “I’ll move it just before the miracle. Hang on. Don’t quit believing. The mountain will move. Don’t give up on that. It’s good to want this – stay there, in the wanting. Don’t slip over to the coveting. Lean into My covering. Let Me gather you closely to Myself, ‘like a hen gathers her chicks under her wings’ – are you willing?

“This isn’t happening to you because it’s your turn in the shade, behind My back. My light is not blocked from you to be given to another. The only shadow you will ever see from Me is beneath the shadow of my Psalm 17:8 wings – will you let Me pull you in?”

And right there, in the truth of His shadow, David provides the most poignant response to God’s promised pinions inside of which the enduring  is suddenly much more bearable:

“My soul trusts in You; and in the shadow of Your wings I will make my refuge until these calamities have passed by. I will cry out to God Most High, to God who performs all things for me” (Psalm 57:1-2).

These trials are impossibly hard to endure. Be slow to anger, swift to slip into His shadow, because He doesn’t just perform all things for you. The Hebrew language says more specifically: He completes them. So James really does know what he’s talking about – that all of this produces patience, that you may be complete, lacking nothing, because He completes it all for you, the moment his body was airo-taken down from that cross and that big ol’ boulder blocking His miracle was airo-rolled out of the way, and He walked right on out of that tomb. You can endure it because He has completed it. So let go of that anger. And let Him gather you close.

This is hard. But this won’t last forever.

Thanks so much for listening!