JAMES 1:17-22
Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no change or shadow of variation. According to his own counsel, he brought us forth by the word of truth, that we should be a first fruit of his creation. Therefore, my beloved brethren, let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger, because a man’s anger does not work what is righteous before God. Therefore put away all filthiness and all remnants of wickedness and receive with meekness the word that is implanted in you and that is powerful for making your souls blessed.
Only of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil was man not allowed to eat244—lest the knowledge should enter the world and bring grief along with it:245 the pain of want and the dubious happiness of possession, the terror of separation and the difficulty of separation, the disquietude of deliberation and the worry of deliberation, the distress of choice and the decision of choice, the judgment of the law and the condemnation of the law, the possibility of perdition and the anxiety of perdition, the suffering of death and the expectation of death. If [IV 25] this had happened, if the command had not been transgressed, then everything would have remained as it was, so very good, and this witness that God gave creation246 would have resounded from humankind as an unceasing, blessed repetition. Then the security of peace would have prevailed in everything; then the quiet celebration of beauty would have smiled solemnly; then the blessedness of heaven would have enveloped everything; then heaven would not even have been mirrored in earthly life, lest presentiment should rise from the depths of innocence; then no echo would have summoned longing from its secret hiding place, for heaven would be earth and everything would be fulfilled. Then man would have awakened from the deep sleep in which Eve came into existence247 in order once again to become absorbed in joy and glory; then the image of God would have been stamped upon everything in a reflection of glory that would lull everything into the spell of the perfection that moved everything, itself unmoved.248 Then the lamb would have lain down to rest beside the wolf,249 and the dove would have built its nest next to the bird of prey; the poisonous herb would have been harmless; then everything would have been very good. There would have been truth in everything, for Adam did indeed give the proper name250 to everything as it truly is; there would have been trustworthiness in everything, for everything would be what it seemed to be; justice would have sprung up out of the earth.251 And yet there would not have been the distinction between good and evil, because this separation was indeed the very fruit of the fruit of the knowledge. And yet no one would have asked where everything came from. Nor would the voice of the Lord have wandered in the Garden of Eden and asked for Adam.252 Adam would not have hidden himself in the garden and in his inner being, but everything would have been open, and the Lord was the only one who would have hidden himself, even though he was imperceptibly present in everything. Adam would not have had time to ask where it came from, because it offered itself at the moment, and the gift itself offered itself in such a way that receiving it did not arouse questions about the giver.
Then the man broke the peace by plucking the forbidden fruit of the knowledge of good and evil. He went astray, and by means of the knowledge he went astray again, because the serpent deceived Eve (Genesis 3:13), and thus by way of a deception the knowledge came into the world as a deception. The fruit of the knowledge, which the man relished, planted the tree of the knowledge in his inner being, which bore its fruits, which now probably did not seem delectable to him, for the fruit of the knowledge always seems delectable and is delectable to look at,253 but when one has savored it, it fosters trouble, compels the man to work in the sweat of his brow, and sows thorns and thistles for him.254 What happened at the [IV 26] beginning of days, that the fruit of the knowledge was delectable to look at, is continually repeated in every generation and in the individual.255 If the Lord’s warning was unable to save the first human being from this deception, how would a human voice be able to do anything but make that fruit even more delectable for the individual to look at.
The Garden of Eden was closed; everything was changed, the man became afraid of himself, afraid of the world around him. Troubled, he asked: What is the good, where is the perfect to be found? If it exists, where is its source? But the doubt that had come along with the knowledge coiled itself alarmingly around his heart, and the serpent that had seduced him with the delectable now squeezed him in its coils. Would he find out what the good and perfect is without learning where it came from, would he be able to recognize the eternal source without knowing what the good and perfect is? Doubt would explain to him first one thing, then another, and in the explanation itself it would lie in wait for him in order to disquiet him still more. What happened at the beginning of days is repeated in every generation and in the individual; the consequences of the fruit of the knowledge could not be halted. With the knowledge, doubt became more inward, and the knowledge, which should have guided man, fettered him in distress and contradiction. At times the knowledge was to him something unattainable for which he sighed; at times it seemed to him a blissfulness that his soul was continually losing; at times it was a knowing that made his heart ashamed; at times a realization that only made him tremble; at times a consciousness of himself, at times a consciousness of the whole world; at times it stimulated every one of his capacities, and at times it enervated his whole being; at times it overwhelmed him with its abundance, and at times it starved him with its emptiness.
Is doubt, then, the stronger? Is the one who will successfully invade the house of the strong256 a new doubt? Does one take away his weapons by using the same weapons against him that he himself uses, or would not one thereby just strengthen him; and is it not doubt’s stratagem to make a person believe that he by himself can overcome himself, as if he were able to perform the marvel unheard of in heaven or on earth or under the earth257—that something that is in conflict with itself can in this conflict be stronger than itself! Or how does the unclean spirit behave when by itself it drives itself out of a person; does it not return with seven others so that the last is worse than [IV 27] the first (Matthew 12:45)? Or what happens to a person who, in conflict with himself, does not confess that even if he were able to overcome everything he still would not have the power to overcome himself by himself? Does not this victorious self change into something far worse than the corrupted self that it vanquished; and does it not go on living securely within him because there is no stronger self in him—except this self that is even worse? No, therefore one first of all binds the strong person or hands him over to be bound, and not until then does one force one’s way into his house to take his weapons away from him (Matthew 12:29). That this is the way it is, anyone will surely admit who has honestly wanted to undergo this experience and has not preferred—instead of a humble, even if in another sense an elevating, truth—a brilliant deception by which he managed to fool himself and above all became capable of arousing the admiration of people and satisfying their fraudulent claim that demanded a deception. If, however, one prefers to have little with blessing,258 to have truth with concern, to suffer instead of exulting over imagined victories, then one presumably will not be disposed to praise the knowledge, as if what it bestows were at all proportionate to the trouble it causes, although one would not therefore deny that through its pain it educates a person, if he is honest enough to want to be educated [opdrages] rather than to be deceived [bedrages], out of the multiplicity to seek the one, out of the abundance to seek the one thing needful,259 as this is plainly and simply offered precisely according to the need for it.
So let us deliberate in more detail and do our part to understand and in our deliberation be captured for freedom, as it were, by the beautiful apostolic words that explain both the what and the whence in: that every good gift and every perfect gift is from above.
“If you, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good things to those who ask him?” (Matthew 7:11; Luke 11:13). These words bend down so sympathetically to the troubled one, speak with such concern to the concerned one, that they raise him up and strengthen him in the bold confidence of full conviction. If, that is, a person is not like the doubter, indifferent about himself and occupied only with the great sorrows of life and existence, but is like the concerned person, primarily concerned about his own task, his minor role, what better words could be addressed to him than these words, which are so childlike, which he himself to a degree always is, reminiscent of life’s first unforgettable impression, reminiscent of a father’s love for his child, his solicitude about giving it good gifts! If it holds true that just as a father has [IV 28] compassion on children, God has compassion on the one who calls upon him,260 that just as a father gives his child good gifts, God gives good gifts to those who pray to him for them—if this is firmly set, then the comfort offered is the most reliable of all. So it was that he once understood the words, rejoiced in them, rejoiced in what they reminded him of, rejoiced in what they promised, rejoiced that they prompted him to think again about his father’s solicitude for him by explaining the words to him, rejoiced that his father’s love consummated all his goodness to him by explaining to him God’s love; but it did not occur to him that these words, like all sacred words, at various times can be milk for children and strong food for adults,261 even though the words remain the same. It did not dawn on him that the words could have another interpretation whereby they became even more glorious, that the metaphorical language could become even more comforting when actuality also began to explain to him the metaphors of earthly life, that the conclusion of the words could become even more firmly set when reversed—something his soul would need when life had reversed everything for him.
Then he had grown older; everything was changed, was shaken by a terrible upheaval; God pronounced another judgment, that even the human being, who nevertheless was the most perfect creation, that even he was evil. This was pronounced not in a judgment of wrath in order to inspire fear but in a metaphorical saying that tried to find an expression for the divine in the most beautiful relation in earthly existence. The words said: You, who are evil—not as if this were the theme of what was said but as a truth decided once and for all and merely mentioned. But the very fact that it was presupposed in this way disturbed the effect of the metaphorical saying, disturbed him also because he persisted in thinking that life had truly taught him that even the most sincere human love, when it wanted to do the very best thing, had sometimes only harmed another person, that he himself, when his impulse was pure—indeed, when he was willing to make every sacrifice, even when he wanted to do everything for another—had only caused him pain. “If,” he then said, “God’s love does not know how to give good gifts any better than a father’s love, then there certainly is small comfort in these words.” In this way the words became for him what fatherly love was for him—a beautiful, hallowed, wistful recollection, an uplifting [IV 29] mood that quickened in his soul the conception of the best in the human being but also of the human being’s weakness, quickened the soul’s most blessed longing but also retracted it again in order to subordinate it to the sadness of concern. Then he thought that he had outgrown the words and did not grasp their upbringing solicitude, did not grasp that the words remained unchanged, that they had always spoken doubtfully of fatherly love’s power to give good gifts but had witnessed all the more powerfully to God’s heart and will.
Then he immersed himself in the words; he refused to allow the words to draw him up to themselves, to forget the metaphorical for the actual, but the words of comfort and the words of power became for him the seed of doubt. If the human being, who is the most perfect of all, is evil, then all earthly life lies in evil. Or if whatever earthly life possesses becomes evil only through the human being, then it is a matter of indifference from the start, is neither good nor evil, but the fact that it is only an appearance, is not something essential, is again a qualification of evil. What, then, is the good, what is the perfect? In that metaphorical saying it is stated that a father, although he is evil, nevertheless gives his child the good gift he asks for and does not give him a stone when he asks for bread, or a snake when he asks for a fish, and then come the words of application: If you, who are evil, know how to give good gifts, would not your heavenly Father give them? But were the bread and the fish in themselves a good gift, or were they that only insofar as they were needed, and yet in turn is not the need itself an imperfection in human life? And even if a person did have the need, might it not nevertheless be more beneficial for him if this were denied to him? In a higher sense, may he not have that need, just as when the prodigal son asked for bread and he was given beechnuts and acorns so that he might come to himself and repent the error of his ways?262 Consequently, a person may know how to give good gifts, but he cannot know whether he is giving a good gift, just as, conversely, the evil person may know how to give an evil gift but cannot know whether he is giving an evil gift. The one who knew how to sow good clean seed in his field certainly knew how to sow it, but he did not know whether he did it, he did not know what might happen while he slept263 and what he might be shocked to see when he woke up;264 yes, even if he had not slept, he still would not have known the [IV 30] even greater shock in store for him. He may know what seems to be beneficial, whether he bases his opinion on his own thinking and experience or on someone else’s report; he may know how to give it, but whether he does give it he does not know. He may know what is good in its intrinsic perfection, but whether he is giving it, he cannot know, as soon as he wants to know it in a kind of knowledge other than that which is indifferent to every person—that he knows how to give it and that he has given it—whereas the question arising out of concern, whether he actually did give it, remains unanswered. And if his soul does not know this concern, then he has no right to be called father, because a father is distinguishable from any other man by having concern, is distinguishable from his best friend by having a higher degree of concern than he has. So there is nothing good and perfect in the world, for either the good exists only in such a way that by coming into existence it becomes a dubious good, but a dubious good is not a good, and the good that can be only in such a way that it cannot come into existence is not the good, or it exists in such a way that it is conditioned by a presupposition that must be present and that is not itself the good.
So, then, doubt became the stronger. What he himself had discerned, what he himself had experienced, what he with sympathetic concern and to his own grief had become convinced of—that earthly life is vanity, that even people’s good gifts are weak-willed and only fill him with disquiet—this he now found to be confirmed in Scripture also. Thus it was now plain and clear to him that this was what the words meant, and that far from supporting the most beautiful in life and letting it continue, they on the contrary tacitly condemned it and allowed it to disappear. He thought that he might manage with this explanation, although he admitted that it was capable of helping neither him nor anyone else. How did it help you to have your eyes shut so that the world’s glamour no longer diverted them, how did it help you to have your ears shut so that the world’s empty babble did not work its way in through them, how did it help you that your heart grew cold and everything became alien and indifferent for you, how did it help you to know that people do not give good gifts, how did it help you to know the deepest anguish of human life—that not even your love was capable of giving good gifts—ah, how did it help you if your eyes were not open again to see a heavenly glory from above, if your ears were not open to perceive the ineffable speech sounding from above, if your heart [IV 31] was not deeply moved, your hand not stretched out to grasp every good and every perfect gift, which comes from above, if your left hand was not ignorant of what your right hand was doing!265
But how do you read this? Are not the words still the same; have they ever said anything other than what you now think you have discerned, because of which you forget what they add? Have the words ever concealed that human beings are not capable of giving good gifts? If they could, then no person would need God’s gifts. Or would the words have been, or would life have been, more perfect and richer in comfort if they had said: Just as a father gives good gifts, so God gives good gifts? Or was not this what you yourself had discovered, was not this what the words said but you refused to understand, said as something evanescent, said in order to arouse the pain that makes the soul more receptive to what it has to add. Because the whole world is evil, is God therefore not good? Would you be better served if he were good only as the whole world is good? Is this not the one thing needful and the one blessed thing both in time and in eternity, in distress and in joy—that God is the only good, that no one is good except God?266 Is this not the only salvation, the only guidance, whether you walk the smiling paths of joy or the narrow way of sorrow, “that the spirit of God is good and leads you on a level path” (Psalm 143:10)?
Read further, then: “So your heavenly Father gives good gifts.” It does not say, “So your heavenly Father knows how to give good gifts,” but it says, “So he gives good gifts,” for his knowing is not something other than his giving, his knowing does not take leave of the gift and abandon it to itself but is at all times a co-knowledge with the gift and thus also in the moment it is received, and this accounts for the similarity in the metaphorical saying that a father’s love has a similarity to, is a reflection of, God’s love, even though a father’s love is still never the same as God’s, never so strong, so inward, and therefore is not capable of doing what God’s love is capable of doing, which in the power of its love is almighty.
When the words are understood in this way, the metaphor, which made it easy to understand for the child but also difficult for the adult, vanishes; then the words say what the apostle says—that every good gift and every perfect gift is from [IV 32] above. What earthly life does not have, what no man has, God alone has, and it is not a perfection on God’s part that he alone has it, but a perfection on the part of the good that a human being, insofar as he participates in the good, does so through God. What, then, is the good? It is that which is from above. What is the perfect? It is that which is from above. Where does it come from? From above. What is the good? It is God. Who is the one who gives it? It is God. Why is the good a gift and this expression not a metaphor but the only real and true expression? Because the good is from God; if it were bestowed on the single individual by the person himself or by some other person, then it would not be the good, nor would it be a gift, but only seemingly so, because God is the only one who gives in such a way that he gives the condition along with the gift,267 the only one who in giving already has given. God gives both to will and to bring to completion;268 he begins and completes the good work in a person.269
Would you deny, my listener, that no doubt can invalidate this precisely because it remains outside all doubt and abides in God? If you, then, do not want to abide in it, it is because you do not want to abide in God, in whom you nevertheless live, move, and have your being270—and why do you not want this? Even though doubt cannot understand it, it does not therefore become untrue, since, on the contrary, it would become doubtful if doubt could understand it. Even though it cannot and will not become involved with doubt, it does not therefore become untrue, since, on the contrary, by wanting to become involved with doubt it would not become any more true than the doubt. It remains true precisely because it cuts short doubt, because it disarms doubt. If it did not do this, it would have no power over doubt but would itself be in the service of doubt, and its conflict with doubt would be only an apparent conflict, inasmuch as it would be a friend of doubt, and its victory over doubt would be a deception, since it would indeed be doubt that was victorious. Human thought knows the way to much in the world, penetrates even where darkness and the shadow of death are, into the bowels of the mountain, knows the way into it that no bird knows, and its eye sees every precious thing (Job 28:1-11), but the way to the good, to the secret hiding place of the good, this it does not know, since there is no way to it, but every good and every perfect gift comes down from above.
Perhaps you will say: Who would want to deny that every good [IV 33] gift and every perfect gift is from above? But not wanting to deny it is still a very long way from wanting to understand it, and wanting to understand it is still a very long way from wanting to believe it and from believing it. But he who is not for is always against.271 Does the fruit of the knowledge here again seem so delectable that instead of making a spiritual judgment you demand an identifying sign from the good and the perfect, a proof that it actually did come from above? How should such an identifying sign be constituted? Should it be more perfect than the perfect, better than the good, since it is assumed to demonstrate, and it pretends to demonstrate, that the perfect is the perfect? Should it be a sign, a wonder? Is not a wonder the archenemy of doubt, with which it is never combined? Should it be an experience? Is not doubt the very unrest that makes the life of experience unstable so that it never finds peace or takes a rest, is never finished with observing, and even if it ever did that would never find rest? Should it be confirmation in flesh and blood? Are not flesh and blood the confidants of doubt, with whom it continually consults?272
But if the demonstration cannot be made, then can doubt not be halted? That is not the case. If the demonstration could be made in the way that doubt demands, then doubt could not be halted any more than sickness can be arrested by the remedy the sickness itself requests. If, however, you want to be convinced, then in what follows the apostle shows you the more perfect way273 along which you die to doubt as the perfect comes to you, because the word of faith certainly would not fight doubt with its own weapons, and first of all one binds the strong one and then takes his weapons away from him.
First of all, the apostle pulls away the veil of darkness, removes the shadows of variation, breaks through the shifting of change, and turns the believer’s eyes up toward heaven so that he may set his eyes on that which is above (Colossians 3:1-2), for that which is above certainly must appear in all its eternal glory as raised above all doubt, the Father of lights, whose clarity no shadow changes, no shifting varies, no envy eclipses, no cloud snatches away from the believer’s eyes.274 If this is not firmly set, if in this regard you want to put your [IV 34] trust in doubt’s false friendship, then very soon doubt will repeatedly change everything for you with its shadows, confuse it with its variations, obscure it with the fogs of night, take everything away from you as if it had not been. This is why the apostle declares: Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no change or shadow of variation.
Then the apostle turns to the single individual in order to explain the condition that makes it possible for him to receive the good and perfect gift. This condition God himself has given, since otherwise the good would not be a gift. This condition is in turn itself a perfection, since otherwise the good would not be a perfect gift. Earthly need is no perfection but rather an imperfection. Therefore, even though a person’s gift were able to satisfy it completely, the gift would still be an imperfect gift because the need was imperfect. But to need the good and perfect gift from God is a perfection; therefore the gift, which is intrinsically perfect, is also a perfect gift because the need is perfect. Before this need awakens in a person, there must first be a great upheaval. All of doubt’s busy deliberation was mankind’s first attempt to find it. However long this continues, it is never finished, and yet it must be finished, ended, that is, broken off, before the single individual can be what the apostle calls a first fruit of creation. That this signifies a new order of things is easy to see, because in the beginning man was so far from being a first fruit of creation that he was created last. There is, then, a new beginning that is not attained by the continued influx of doubt, for then there would really never be a beginning that would begin with something other than doubt. Therefore, whereas in the old order of things man came last and it was doubt’s task, as it were, to fathom everything that had gone before, now man is the first, has no intermediary between God and himself, but has the condition he cannot give himself, inasmuch as it is God’s gift. This is why the apostle declares that God, according to his own counsel, brought us forth by the word of truth. He did it by himself and according to his own counsel, or had he made some pact with a human being that he would consult with him?275 But one who is born by the word of truth is born to the word of truth. The condition is a gift of God and a perfection that makes it possible to receive the good and perfect gift. —The apostle says, “According to his own counsel, he brought us forth by the word of truth, that we should be a first fruit of his creation.” If here again you want to call upon doubt for help, then doubt will surely—as it always does—rob [IV 35] you as it gives. It will not let the condition be a gift and will thereby defraud you of the perfection and the possibility of receiving the perfect gift; is it not an imperfection on your part that you do not absolutely need God276 and as a result do not absolutely need his good and perfect gift, either?
But just as the condition itself is a perfection, so it is essential that it be kept as such, that it not be divided and fragmented so that it has only a half meaning, and also that it not be garbled. While the eyes of faith, then, steadfastly continue to be set on that which is above, quietly see heaven open,277 the apostle would now allow, indeed encourage, the single individual to use doubt in the right way, not to doubt what stands firm and will stand firm forever in its eternal clarity, but to doubt that which in itself is transitory, which will more and more vanish, to doubt himself, his own capacity and competence, so that it becomes an incapacity that is discarded more and more. False doubt doubts everything except itself; with the help of faith, the doubt that saves doubts only itself.
The apostle then gives the admonitions that are to serve for strengthening and maintaining the single individual as a first fruit of creation. “Therefore let every man be quick to hear.” What do you suppose he is to be quick to hear? Do you suppose it is the tedious discourses of doubt, or the opinions of men, or the inventions of his own heart? Oh, he who is quick to listen to such things—whatever he achieved in the world, whatever he became—he would scarcely become what the apostle next admonishes every person to become, slow to speak; haste to pay attention to such things fosters this very haste to speak. But the person who is quick to listen to the divine Word—which sounds now, as formerly, when one is silent, when the Pharisees and the scribes have gone away or are silenced,278 when the crowd has dispersed and gone—he also becomes slow to speak, because what he hears is indescribably satisfying and makes him even quicker to hear and even slower to speak. Indeed, what is there for him to say? Ultimately he will not even say with David: Hasten, O Lord, to speak!279 but will say to his own soul: Hasten, oh, hasten to listen!
[IV 36] And when he is quick to hear in this way, he will also be quick to listen to the admonition, “Let every man be slow to anger, for a man’s anger does not work what is righteous before God.”280 The primary effect of anger that is not righteous before God is that a person is made hard of hearing in attending to the admonition. But even if a person were slower to anger, even if his anger, humanly speaking, had no effect because it, humanly speaking, was overcome, yet it can remain in one’s inner being and there work what is not righteous before God, since in anger there emerges the very thing that a person by the help of faith should die to, and when anger has gained control of him, even if he in his anger triumphed over the whole world, he has lost himself and damaged his soul.281 But the person who is quick to pay attention to what does not incite an answer or rash words is also slow to anger; he will not let the sun go down on his anger,282 and he will fear an even more alarming eclipse, that he might never more be able to see the Father of lights, who is hidden by the shadows of wrath that changed the unchanging.
“Therefore put away all filthiness and all remnants of wickedness,” for man does indeed carry the perfect in frail vessels, which makes it difficult for him to carry it, but it does not let itself be carried in the service of selfish advantage or in the burning of desire or in the fellowship of impurity;283 and on the remnants of wickedness there rests a curse that very easily, in a tragic way, makes of them—just as the blessing on the blessing’s remnants284—an overabundance.
“And receive with meekness the Word,” because he who is quick to hear so that he thereby becomes slow to speak does not take himself by surprise in his haste and does not take God’s kingdom by force285 but comprehends the things of heaven, for “meekness discovers hidden things” (Sirach).286 He knows that no one can take what is not given to him and cannot have what is given if he does not take it as given and that the good is a gift for which meekness waits. But meekness is also assured that God gives every good and every perfect gift and in that assurance “it watches with thanksgiving” (Colossians 4:1).287
Then he receives “what is implanted there,” consequently [IV 37] that which was there before he received it, that which when received “is powerful for making his soul blessed.” This he receives, the good and the perfect gift by which the need that was itself a perfection is satisfied. This is why the words in that metaphorical saying with which we began read as follows: “If you, then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?”288—because to need the Holy Spirit is a perfection in a human being, and his earthly need is so far from illuminating it by analogy that it darkens it instead. The need itself is a good and a perfect gift from God, and the prayer about it is a good and a perfect gift through God, and the communication of it is a good and a perfect gift from above, which comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no change or shadow of variation.