James 1:12 Blessed is the man that endures temptation: for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life… What the function of evil is, and why it is permitted to exist, is a question which has perplexed the minds of men ever since they used discourse of reason. It is, confessedly, the most difficult of questions, and many, perhaps most, of the wise have given it up as, for the present at least, an insoluble problem. But the question, so difficult to us, seems to have presented no difficulty to the practical and an-inquisitive intellect of St. James. According to him, the function of evil is to try men, to test them, to put them to the proof, to show them what they are and what they ought to be. Because trials bring us wisdom, and faith, and patience, we are not to shrink from them, but to glory in them, however trying they may be, and even though they seem to put that which is good in us to jeopardy. In verse 12 the apostle sums up all that he has previously said. As he has mused over his theme his heart has taken fire, and he breaks out into the exclamation, "Happy is the man that endureth temptation!" He has bidden us rejoice when we fall into divers trials; now he pronounces us happy, because we have let patience have her perfect work, because we have sought wisdom of God, because we have risen to an unwavering faith. And, indeed, we may easily see that it is not enough for our welfare that we should simply be exposed to trials, or that we should suffer them. If we are to get the good of them, if they are to refine and complete our character, we must endure them, i.e., as the word implies, we must meet them with a cheerful constancy. I know how hard all this sounds, and is, to the ordinary man. And even if, as yet, we feel that we ourselves cannot endure heavy trials with cheerful fortitude, do we not count those happy who can? do we not wish we were as strong as they? We must admit, then, that St. James is simply uttering an obvious truth when he exclaims, "Happy is the man that endureth trial!" But why is he happy? The apostle hints at one reward in the words, "when he is approved," and distinctly states another reward of constancy in the words, "he shall receive the crown of life." For the phrase, "when he is approved," points to a figure often employed both in the Old and New Testament Scriptures. Both the prophets and the apostles represent God as a refiner, who sits by the furnace, assaying and purifying gold and silver, and who, when He has purged them of their cross, stamps them as true metal of sterling worth. He has proved them, and He approves them. That a man should like trial for its own sake is no more to be expected than we could expect gold, were it rational and sensitive, to like the fire. But even gold, if it were rational as well as sensitive, might well be content to endure the furnace by which its purity and value are enhanced, by which its alloys and defects are searched out and purged away. Nor does St. James demand that we should like trial for its own sake, but for the sake of the happy effects it will produce on us if it be borne with constancy. How happy, then, is the man who endures trial with a cheerful constancy — happy in that his character is at once refined and approved! This twofold reward we might deem sufficient. But God giveth liberally, with a full hand. To the cheerful endurer He is a cheerful Giver. And hence St. James goes on to promise "the crown of life" to as many as endure. But what is this crown of life? It is simply a life victorious and crowned; or, in other words, it is a royal and perfected character. Now I suppose there is no one thing that a thoughtful man, who takes his life earnestly, so much desires, as the reward St. James here promises to those who endure. In every one of us there are two men, two worlds, at strife, each of which gains the upper hand at times, neither of which ceases to struggle for its lost supremacy. It is because of this doubleness of nature, and the incessant strife between them, that we are so restless. What is there that we so heartily crave as the power to rule ourselves, to subdue, pacify, and harmonise the conflicting energies, whose ceaseless strife carries havoc through the soul? St. James tells us how we may attain it. Trials, he says, come for this very end, to make us perfect and complete men. If we endure them with steadfast patience, they will work in us a noble character, a royal dignity; they will put a crown on our heads, the crown of life. And, mark, he is not dealing with mere figures of speech; or, rather, he is dealing with figures of speech, but with figures that accurately express facts which we may all verify for ourselves. The phrase, "when he is approved," points to the figure of the refiner's furnace. But drop the figure, and is it not true that trials, wisely borne, refine and elevate character? Do not those who have patiently endured many sorrows acquire a gentleness, a tenderness, a quick sympathy which, to mere polish of manner, is as tinsel to gold? That other phrase, "the crown of life," is also a figure, which indicates the royalty of character that makes a man lord of himself and equal to any fate. And if, at first, the promise sounds a little extravagant, is it not nevertheless a literal statement of fact? Look around you and mark who are the men of whom you are most sure, whom everybody trusts, to whom all are glad to run for counsel or succour. Are they not those who have been tested by divers kinds of trial, and have borne them with manly resolution and cheerfulness? Are they not those who are known to have long ruled themselves in the fear of God, who have governed their passions and cravings with a firm hand; men who, when need was, have planted themselves against the world, and have overcome it? Ah! happy and blessed men! They have endured temptation, and they are approved by God and man. They have risen to that royal sway over themselves which is the true crown of a true life. The life eternal is theirs, even as they pass through the fleeting and changeful hours of time. Every part of St. James's promise, then, accords with the plain facts of human life. Trials borne with constancy do refine men, do manifestly win for them the approval of God, do give them a royal self-mastery and control. But we must not expect to "receive" this promise until we have fulfilled its condition. The reward of constancy is only for the constant. What is the secret of that constancy of which the reward is so great? The apostle reveals this secret. "The crown of life," he says, is promised "to them that love Him, i.e., to them that love God; or, as we cannot love the Father whom we have not seen without loving the brother whom we have seen, this crown is promised to those who love God and man. Those who endure are those who love. (S. Cox, D. D.) Parallel Verses KJV: Blessed is the man that endureth temptation: for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life, which the Lord hath promised to them that love him. |
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