If the Lord Wills

James is writing to Jewish Christians who live throughout the Mediterranean world. In the days of James there was a dispersion of Jews from Israel--some had been forced to leave, while others had left voluntarily--to places as far away as Egypt, Greece, and Rome. After Pentecost many of these Jewish sojourners were converted to Christianity.

As a result, many churches sprang up throughout the Mediterranean world. It is to these churches that James is writing. They were isolated pockets of newly-converted Christians in a sea of paganism--sometimes antagonistic paganism. James is writing to counsel them in the ways of God and of Christ.

Merchants of the first century

In the passage before us, James is appealing to a certain segment of first-century Christianity; he addresses those in the community of faith who might possibly say: "Today or tomorrow we shall go into this or that city, spend a year there doing business, and make a profit."

Those who might make such a statement are the merchants--the retailers--of the ancient world. They were members of the middle class whose lives and lifestyles were somewhere between that of the landed aristocrats and the laboring poor. In the days when the New Testament was written the word "merchant" many times carried with it a negative connotation--much like the word "politician" today. It carried the idea of secret business dealings and trickery. Someone in the ancient world wrote: "Wisdom is not in heaven--that is to say, not to be found among the proud; nor beyond the sea--that is to say, you will not find it among traders and among travelling merchants."

Of course, this was a caricature. Not every merchant was an example of roguery. Many Jews, and Gentiles converted to the Jewish faith, were merchants. Lydia--a devout Gentile in Philippi--was a dealer in purple garments. The Book of Acts describes her conversion to Christianity under the preaching of Paul. It is to people like Lydia that James is addressing this passage in his letter.

Notice here what James is not saying

James is not saying: "Do not plan." Everything that the merchant says (see verse 13) is legitimate. There is nothing wrong with planning ahead. This is also true for us. Whether we are retailers or teachers or laborers or pastors, it is legitimate to sit down and plan ahead.

What James is saying

In verse 15 James writes: "Instead you should say: "If the Lord wills we shall both live and do this and that." The expression "do this and that" refers back to the travel and business plans of the merchants in verse 13. James is not calling upon his readers to discard all agendas, but to include in their agendas the most important element in any planning process -- the will of God. "If the Lord wills we shall do this or that." Notice the expression "if the Lord wills, we shall . . . live." Not only do our plans depend upon the will of God, our very lives--our very existence--depends upon him.

This applies both to the merchant and to us today

"Come now, you who say we will build this church building." "Come now, you who say we will start this new ministry and next year will add fifty new members to our church." We are leaving something out. . . . We are forgetting the most important element. Shouldn't we say: "If the Lord wills, we shall both live and . . . build our new church building"? "If the Lord wills, we shall both live and . . . start this new ministry and next year add fifty new members to our church"? There is not much room for pride when we say that. There is not much room for spiritual arrogance.

In the film Lawrence of Arabia, T. E. Lawrence is leading a group of Arab tribesmen across an immense stretch of desert that--because of the fierce heat and the lack of water--is known as God's Anvil. Their mission is to besiege a Turkish stronghold. After crossing the desert Lawrence discovers that one of the Arabs has fallen from his camel and is now lost somewhere behind them.

He decides to return and find him. The Arabs try to persuade him that such an attempt is fruitless. "It is the will of Allah," says one Arab. "It is written that this man should thus die." But Lawrence scorns their attempts to persuade him and says [pointing at his head]: "No. It is written here that I shall find him." One of the most moving scenes in the film is Lawrence riding back from his search with the Arab clinging to his waist. It seems that Lawrence's rather arrogant claim to be the one that writes his own history--to be the master of his own fate--may be true.

Then, only a few days later, one Arab kills another as a result of a blood feud and Lawrence must execute him to keep the feud from destroying the unity of his army. When the Arab is forced to kneel before him, Lawrence suddenly discovers that it is the Arab whom he saved from the desert. He executes him, and this is the beginning of the realization that he is not the author of his personal history.

I don't think any of us would wax so bold as Lawrence and say that ultimately we are the masters of our fate; but what we don't say with our lips, do we say with our actions?