When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.
—James 1:13–15
James was writing to believers “scattered among the nations.” These were people away from familiar places, living through disruption and facing “trials of many kinds.” Earlier in the chapter, James had encouraged them to look differently at those trials. They could become opportunities for perseverance and growth. He even told them to “consider it pure joy.”
Oh joy.
But difficulty wasn’t the only danger facing people whose lives had been knocked off their familiar moorings. There was also temptation.
And James doesn’t ease into the subject. “When tempted…”
Not if.
If we’re honest, unhealthy attractions, enticements, appetites and pleasures call seductively to all of us in one form or another. No one is immune. The particular temptation may differ from person to person, but we all know what it is to want something we know isn’t good for us—or to want a good thing in a way that isn’t good for us.
Proverbs 9 pictures Folly as a woman sitting conspicuously at the door of her house, calling to everyone passing by:
“Stolen water is sweet; food eaten in secret is delicious!” But little do they know that the dead are there, that her guests are deep in the realm of the dead.
That’s the part Folly leaves out of the sales pitch.
Temptation is very good at advertising the beginning of the story while hiding the ending.
Whose Fault Is It?
James wants to make one thing abundantly clear: temptation doesn’t come from God. God isn’t dangling something destructive in front of us and waiting to see whether we’ll take the bait.
So who’s responsible?
It’s tempting—ironically—to find someone else.
Scripture certainly speaks of spiritual evil, and the devil doesn’t need any encouragement to wreck lives. Years ago, Dana Carvey’s Church Lady on Saturday Night Live had a wonderfully exaggerated explanation for practically everything:
“Could it be … Satan?”
Sometimes we’d prefer that answer. If some outside force made us do it, then perhaps we’re not really responsible.
But James doesn’t leave much room for blame-shifting.
But each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed.
There’s the big but.
James turns our attention inward. Our desires, appetites and cravings can become the bait. Temptation appeals to something already within us. And what happens next depends upon what we do with it. That’s where things can escalate.
“Escalate”
One of the drawbacks of technology, I think, is its ability to replace actual human interaction with something pretending to be human interaction.
Nowhere does this frustrate me more than when I telephone a business hoping to speak with an actual person.
“I understand you would like to speak to someone,” the pleasant computerized voice tells me. “I am a virtual assistant equipped to help you with most matters, so please state clearly the reason for your call.”
“Speak with a representative.”
“I understand you would like to speak to someone, but I am a virtual assistant equipped to help you…”
“SPEAK TO A HUMAN BEING!”
Silence.
It’s thinking.
Maybe?
“I understand you would like to speak to someone…”
By this point I’m considering whether finding the physical location of the computer and pouring water on it would get me transferred to a human.
My wife learned a trick. She says one word: “Escalate.”
Apparently, that’s virtual-assistant kryptonite. Somehow escalate communicates that the temperature is rising and the nice customer on the telephone may soon require a tranquilizer. Quite often, the computer gives up and transfers her to a human being.
James understood escalation long before customer-service computers did.
Look carefully at the progression:
Desire.
Enticement.
Sin.
Death.
Something attracts us. We linger. Desire grows. We act upon it. What began as an attraction becomes a choice, and choices repeated long enough can begin shaping a life. James describes it almost organically: desire conceives, sin is born, sin grows up, and eventually it produces death.
No one wakes up one morning and announces, “I think I’ll destroy my life today.” Usually it’s much quieter than that.
A glance. A thought entertained. A resentment rehearsed. A secret protected. A compromise rationalized. Another drink. Another click. Another lie. Another purchase. Another conversation we know we shouldn’t be having.
And somewhere farther down the road, we look around and wonder: How did I get here?
Hook, Line and Sinker
I’ll use a fishing analogy.
James’s picture is a little like our own desire baiting a hook—and then biting it.
Eventually we find ourselves with the hook through our lip wondering who put it there.
We’d love to shift the blame. There were extenuating circumstances. Someone hurt us. We were lonely. We were angry. We were exhausted. We deserved something better. We didn’t intend for things to go this far.
Some of those circumstances may be very real. They matter. They may help explain why a particular temptation felt so powerful.
But explanation isn’t the same as innocence.
Sometimes there was just us. Being human. Wanting something. Seizing folly as if it were wisdom. Believing the promise on the front end without considering where it might lead.
We bought the lie—hook, line and sinker.
And that’s a difficult place to end the story.
Thankfully, James doesn’t.
But Grace
James has more to say. Immediately after describing desire giving birth to sin and sin giving birth to death, he writes:
“Don’t be deceived, my dear brothers and sisters. Every good and perfect gift is from above…”
And later:
“He gives us more grace.” (James 4:6)
More grace.
Not permission to pretend the hook isn’t there. Not an excuse to blame God, the devil, our circumstances or somebody else. Grace tells the truth about what happened.
But grace also refuses to say that what happened must become the final chapter.
That’s especially important for those of us who can look backward and see the escalation clearly now. Maybe you know exactly where the first compromise happened. Maybe you ignored warning signs. Maybe something that once seemed manageable became something you couldn’t manage. Maybe people were hurt. Maybe trust was broken. Maybe you’re still living with consequences you wish you could undo.
James’s words invite honest self-appraisal, not hopelessness.
Because the God James describes isn’t waiting to shame confused and struggling people. Earlier in this same chapter, James tells us He gives wisdom “generously to all without finding fault.” And later he tells us that God “gives us more grace.”
Maybe you’ve traveled farther down a road than you ever intended to go. The question to ask is not, How did I get here? The question is, Where do I go from here?
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