James 2:7

James opens his warning with a family greeting and a firm command. “My brethren” is how he regularly addresses fellow believers, and it reminds them that the people walking through their door belong to one household. The command, “have not the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory, with respect of persons”, forbids them to hold their faith in a way that contradicts the faith itself. That faith, pístis, is both the trust that relies on Christ for salvation and the body of gospel truth that believers hold, and here it is faith in Jesus Christ as Lord.

“Respect of persons” stands for a single Greek word, prosōpolēpsía, partiality or favoritism. The word is built on the picture of “receiving faces”, which means judging and treating people by the face they present: their clothes, wealth, standing or reputation. James uses the verb from the same family in verse 9.

The title “the Lord of glory” is what makes favoritism so out of place. Glory, dóxa, is honour and splendour that is plain to see, and James gives it to Jesus as his own. It echoes the psalm that hails the LORD as the King of glory (Psalm 24:7–10), for Jesus shares the divine majesty of the Father. To fawn over a man for his gold ring while confessing the Lord of glory is a contradiction that dishonours his name and diminishes his glory.

The deeper reason is who God is. Moses praises the LORD as the great God who is impartial (Deuteronomy 10:17), Paul says the same (Romans 2:11), and Peter confesses it in Acts 10:34. So favoritism among God’s people misrepresents the God they serve and betrays a gospel offered to all.

This warning follows James’s call to endure trials (James 1:2–4) and to be a “doer of the word, and not a hearer only” (James 1:22), and it is his first worked example of that call. Favoritism is a test of whether faith is alive, the question he takes up in James 2:14–26, where faith without works is called dead.

James then paints the scene. Two strangers come “unto your assembly”, and the word for the assembly is synagōgē, a gathering or congregation, and especially a Jewish synagogue, whether the meeting or the building where it met. James writes to Jewish believers, “the twelve tribes which are scattered abroad” (James 1:1), and he calls their Christian gathering by this familiar name. They may well have met in a synagogue-like setting. What matters most is that the favoritism happens in the very place where they gather to worship.

The first visitor is chrysodaktýlios, a single Greek word meaning “gold-ringed”, a man wearing a gold finger-ring or similar jewelry. He wears “goodly apparel”, clothing that is lamprós, radiant, bright and magnificent in appearance. The second is a “poor man”, ptōchós, the word for a beggar, one who crouches and depends on others to survive, at the very bottom of society. His “vile raiment” is rhyparós, dirty or shabby clothing. Under Roman rule, clothing and jewelry announced a person’s wealth, rank and honour at a glance, and people were used to deferring to the rich and seeking their patronage. James’s readers would have recognised the two men at once as the two ends of their world.

Then the church responds. “Ye have respect to him” translates epiblépō, to gaze at with favour: they look the rich man over and decide to honour him. He hears “Sit thou here in a good place”, where “in a good place” renders kalōs, “well”, a seat of honour. Synagogues of that time often kept the prominent places for the wealthy and influential, and the believers have brought the same habit into their own meetings.

The poor man hears “Stand thou there, or sit here under my footstool.” The footstool, hypopódion, is the small rest a seated person puts his feet on. The poor man may stand off at the edge, or sit on the floor down beside the speaker’s feet. Either way he is placed below everyone, in front of the whole assembly, and that public shame is what James wants his readers to see. He sets it out as a case that could happen in any gathering, so that they can look at it plainly before he tells them what it means.

“Are ye not then partial in yourselves, and are become judges of evil thoughts?” James asks a question his readers can only answer with yes. “Partial” is diakrínō, to separate thoroughly, to make distinctions, and by the seats they handed out they have sorted people into classes by their clothes. The same verb can also describe wavering or being divided within. On that sense, “partial in yourselves” exposes a split heart, one that confesses a Lord who loves all and acts on a mind that sorts people by wealth.

“Are become” is gínomai, to become. By acting this way they have become judges, sitting in judgment over their visitors at the door, and the reasoning behind their verdicts is evil. “Thoughts” is dialogismós, inward reasoning, deliberation or purpose, and “evil” is ponērós, hurtful and wicked. Their quick verdict came out of corrupt and self-serving calculation, and God holds them answerable for it.

God’s word had long forbidden such judging. Moses charged Israel’s judges to be impartial (Deuteronomy 1:17), the law forbade partiality in judgment (Leviticus 19:15), Proverbs calls it wrong (Proverbs 24:23, Proverbs 28:21), and Paul charged Timothy to keep his instructions without partiality (1 Timothy 5:21). James later sets the wisdom from above against earthly wisdom (James 3:13–18), and the evil reasoning of this verse belongs to the earthly kind.

“Hearken, my beloved brethren” is an urgent and tender call to listen. James now gives the reason favoritism is sin, and he gives it as another question expecting yes: “Hath not God chosen the poor of this world rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom which he hath promised to them that love him?” “Chosen” is eklégomai, to select or pick out. It is God’s deliberate choice, made by his will and grace, apart from worldly status or merit.

The poor are again ptōchós, the destitute. God chose them to be “rich”, ploúsios, wealthy, and figuratively abounding in something. Their wealth is faith: abundant trust in God and firm reliance on his promises and his provision in the middle of hardship. The world counts riches in gold rings, and God counts them in faith. Hannah’s prayer praises the LORD for reversing the places of the lowly and the mighty (1 Samuel 2:7–8), and Paul says that God chose the weak and despised things of the world (1 Corinthians 1:27–28). Jesus pronounced the poor blessed (Luke 6:20), promised the kingdom of heaven to the poor in spirit (Matthew 5:3–6), and taught us to lay up treasure in heaven, where it lasts (Matthew 6:19–21).

They are also “heirs of the kingdom”. The kingdom is God’s reign, already present in the hearts of believers and still to be fully revealed in the new heavens and new earth. An heir receives the inheritance of a child of the house, and here that includes eternal life, fellowship with God and a glory far above any earthly possession. Christ is the “heir of all things” (Hebrews 1:2), and those who belong to him are joint-heirs with him (Romans 8:17). The man the church sent to sit by the footstool may be an heir of the King.

The promise is “to them that love him”. Love for God marks the heirs, and Jesus ties love for him to keeping his commandments (John 14:21).

“But ye have despised the poor.” The verb is atimázō, to dishonour, to treat with contempt, even to render infamous. Sending the poor man to the floor was an act of public shame. God had chosen the poor man, and the church dishonoured him. To oppress the poor is to show contempt for their Maker (Proverbs 14:31), and Jesus counts what is done to the least of his brethren as done to himself (Matthew 25:31–46).

James then turns their own experience against them. “Do not rich men oppress you, and draw you before the judgment seats?” “Oppress” is katadynasteúō, built from “down” and “to be powerful”: to exercise dominion against someone and use power to keep him down. It covered economic exploitation, unfair treatment of labourers and plain intimidation. “Draw” is helkýō, to drag, and the “judgment seats” are kritḗrion, law courts. The wealthy held land and influence, and they could haul the poor into court to collect debts or seize property while the poor had little defence. The believers were bowing to the very class that was dragging them before the magistrates.

“Do not they blaspheme that worthy name by the which ye are called?” Blasphēméō means to vilify, to speak impiously. The worthy name is the name of Jesus Christ. A name, ónoma, stands for the person, his character and authority, and “worthy” is kalós, good and beautiful. “By the which ye are called” uses epikaléomai, to give a name or title, so believers bear the name of Christ and belong to him, and it was in Antioch that the disciples were first called Christians (Acts 11:26). The rich slandered that name with their mouths, and their mistreatment of Christ’s people dishonoured it too. The church was honouring the very men who reviled its Lord.

Scripture guards the name of God with great seriousness (Leviticus 24:16, Proverbs 30:9), and Paul wants believers to live so that God’s name is kept from blasphemy (1 Timothy 6:1). It is the name above every name, given to Jesus after he “made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant” (Philippians 2:7–11), and whoever calls on the name of the Lord will be saved (Romans 10:13).

“If ye fulfil the royal law according to the scripture, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself, ye do well.” James quotes Leviticus 19:18, and “according to the scripture” grounds his command in God’s written word. The law, nómos, is a commandment of the law of Moses, and James calls it “royal”, basilikós, belonging to or befitting a king, and so preeminent. It is the law of God the King, the governing principle of his kingdom and the chief of all the commands about how we treat one another. Jesus named it the second great commandment, alongside love for God, and said that all the law and the prophets hang on the two (Matthew 22:37–40). Paul says that love fulfils the law (Romans 13:9–10).

The verb for love is agapáō, to love in a social or moral sense, a love that seeks the good of the other whatever his standing. When Jesus was asked who our neighbour is, he answered with the parable of the Good Samaritan, where the neighbour is anyone in need (Luke 10:25–37). So the poor man at the door is exactly the neighbour the royal law names, and to fulfil the law is to carry it out in practice.

“Ye do well” uses kalōs, the same word as “in a good place” in verse 3. The church seated the rich man “well”, and James shows what doing well really is: loving your neighbour as yourself, rich and poor alike. Christ himself is that love in person, for he laid down his life for his friends (John 15:13), and God pours his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit (Romans 5:5), so that we can love as he loved.

Verse 9 gives the other side: “But if ye have respect to persons, ye commit sin, and are convinced of the law as transgressors.” Prosōpolēptéō is the verb of the noun in verse 1, to favour an individual, to show partiality. James calls it sin, hamartía, an offence against God, and his language moves into a courtroom. “Convinced” is elénchō, to convict, expose or rebuke, and in the English of the KJV “convinced” means shown to be guilty. The law itself stands as the witness that convicts, and the verdict is that the partial are parabátēs, transgressors, breakers of the law. The law in view is first of all the royal law of verse 8, and with it all of God’s moral commands.

“For whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all.” Someone might treat favoritism as a small fault set against a good record, and James closes that door. “Offend” is ptaíō, to trip or stumble, and so to err or sin. The word “point” is supplied by the translators, since the Greek says only “in one”. “Guilty” is énochos, liable to a penalty. The one who stumbles in a single command stands liable before the whole law.

Verse 11 gives the reason: “For he that said, Do not commit adultery, said also, Do not kill.” “Said” is épō, to speak, and the same Speaker gave both commands in the Ten Commandments (Exodus 20:1–17). “Kill” is phoneúō, to murder. “Now if thou commit no adultery, yet if thou kill, thou art become a transgressor of the law.” “Art become” is gínomai again, and “transgressor” is parabátēs, as in verse 9. The law is one because the Lawgiver is one, and to break any part of it is to defy the God who spoke all of it. So the believer who favours the rich has broken the law of the God who gave every command, whatever his record elsewhere.

Moses pronounced a curse on whoever fails to keep the words of the law (Deuteronomy 27:26), and Paul quotes it to show that all who rely on keeping the law stand under that curse (Galatians 3:10). By the law comes the knowledge of sin (Romans 3:20), and “all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:22–24). These verses leave every one of us needing a righteousness that comes from outside ourselves.

“So speak ye, and so do, as they that shall be judged by the law of liberty.” Speech and deeds belong together. “Speak” is laléō, the general verb to talk or utter words, and James gives a whole passage to taming the tongue (James 3:1–12). The twofold “so” holds talk and action to the same standard, so that what we say matches how we live.

“Judged” is krínō, to decide, try or judge, and here it is God’s future assessment of our lives. Jesus has been given authority to judge (John 5:27). For those who are in Christ Jesus there is no condemnation, so this judgment is an accounting of how faithfully we have lived out the faith we profess.

Liberty is eleuthería, freedom, and James has already called this “the perfect law of liberty” (James 1:25). It is God’s law as fulfilled in Christ and written on the hearts of believers, as Jeremiah promised in the new covenant (Jeremiah 31:33). It is the law of Christ, fulfilled in bearing one another’s burdens (Galatians 6:2), and the law of the Spirit of life, by which the righteousness the law requires is fulfilled in those who walk after the Spirit (Romans 8:1–4). It frees us from the dominion of sin (Romans 6:18) and from condemnation, and it makes obedience willing and glad. Paul says this freedom is for serving one another in love, the love that fulfils the law (Galatians 5:13–14). Those who know Christ show it by keeping his commandments (1 John 2:3–6), and the Spirit changes us into his likeness (2 Corinthians 3:17–18).

For the church at the door, the meaning is direct. They will be judged by a law of love and freedom, and that law will weigh how they received the poor man.

“For he shall have judgment without mercy, that hath shewed no mercy; and mercy rejoiceth against judgment.” The opening “For”, gár, gives the reason for the warning of verse 12. “Without mercy” is a single word, aníleōs, unmerciful or inexorable. The person who withheld mercy will receive judgment in full, unsoftened. Mercy, éleos, is compassion, human or divine, and especially compassion that acts in practical help and kindness toward those in need. The church that sent the poor man to the floor withheld exactly this.

The last clause is joined by kaí, “and”. “Rejoiceth against” is katakaucháomai, to exult over or boast against. James pictures mercy as a person who exults over judgment like a victor over his opponent. Judgment still stands, and mercy prevails over it. Jesus said, “Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy” (Matthew 5:7). He tied the Father’s forgiveness of us to our forgiveness of others (Matthew 6:14–15), and he told us to be merciful as our Father is merciful, since the measure we use will be measured back to us (Luke 6:36–38).

Mercy can rejoice over judgment because of who God is. He is “rich in mercy” (Ephesians 2:4), and Peter blesses him for his great mercy (1 Peter 1:3). Jesus was moved with compassion for the crowds (Matthew 9:35–36), and on the cross he took the judgment we deserved, for Christ died for us while we were still sinners and enemies (Romans 5:8–10). Those who have received such mercy are to be kind and forgiving to one another, as God for Christ’s sake has forgiven them (Ephesians 4:32).

Everything James asks of the church, Christ did first. He welcomed sinners and ate with them (Luke 15:1–2, Matthew 9:10–13), spoke with a Samaritan woman at a well (John 4:7–26), and opened his ministry by preaching good news to the poor (Luke 4:18–19). He taught that greatness in his kingdom is found in service (Matthew 20:26–28), and he came to minister and to give his life a ransom (Mark 10:45). “Though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich” (2 Corinthians 8:9). He was despised and rejected by men (Isaiah 53:3), the very treatment the church was giving the poor man.

He is the propitiation for the sins of the whole world (1 John 2:2), and by his cross he broke down the middle wall of partition and made one new people in himself (Ephesians 2:14–16). In him all believers are one, whatever their nation, station or sex (Galatians 3:28).

This passage shows us a God who looks past gold rings and shabby coats and chooses the poor to be rich in faith. He is the King whose royal law is love, the one Lawgiver whose every word carries his authority, and the Judge before whom mercy rejoices over judgment. James says all this to a church that had slipped into the world’s habits, and he says it to them as beloved brethren.

For the poor believer the passage is a word of honour: God has chosen him, and he is an heir of the kingdom promised to those who love him. For every believer it is a word of warning and of hope, because the mercy we show is the mark of the mercy we have received. The gathering of God’s people is the place where the man in vile raiment and the man with the gold ring sit as equals, since both stand before the Lord of glory, who became poor for them.