Lenten Reflection – Day 8 of the Great Lent
Draw Near to God – James 4:7-5:6
“Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded.” (4:8)
Yesterday was Garbo Sunday. We watched a man full of leprosy fall on his face before Christ. He said the most honest prayer anyone can pray: “Lord, if You are willing, You can make me clean.” And Christ reached out His hand and touched him.
Today James tells us what happens next. The leper came to Christ as he was – diseased, unclean, empty-handed. Christ healed him. But healing is not the end. It is the beginning. The person who has been touched by Christ must now learn to live differently. And the first thing James says to the person who has been found by God’s mercy is this: Draw near. Come closer. Do not stop at the first touch. Keep coming.
This is the work of the second week of the Great Lent. The first week stripped us down – wilderness, forgiveness, action, the narrow gate, the war within, enemy-love, the healing touch. Now we begin to build. And the foundation of everything we build is this: draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.
But James is not gentle about it. He knows that drawing near to God requires something painful. It requires honesty about what we are carrying. This includes the pride, the presumption, and the love of money. It also includes the habit of treating tomorrow as though it belongs to us. James is about to name these things one by one, and he will not be polite about it.
Submit to God, Resist the Devil (vv. 7-10)
“Therefore submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you. Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Lament and mourn and weep! Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He will lift you up.” (4:7–10)
Two movements. Submit to God. Resist the devil. The order matters. You cannot resist the devil in your own strength. You can only resist him from a position of submission to God. The person who tries to fight spiritual battles without first surrendering to God is fighting alone. Fighting alone results in loss every time.
On Day 1 of the Great Lent, we stood with Christ in the wilderness and watched Him face three temptations. He did not defeat the enemy by clever argument or superior force. He defeated him by total obedience to the Father. “Man shall not live by bread alone.” “You shall worship the Lord your God, and Him only you shall serve.” Every answer was an act of submission before it was an act of resistance. James is teaching the same thing. Submit first. Then resist. In that order, the devil flees. In the reverse order, we do.
St. John Cassian was a fourth-century monk. He brought the wisdom of the Egyptian desert to the West. His writings shaped monastic practice across the entire Christian world. In his Conferences, he teaches that the devil has no power over a soul genuinely submitted to God. The enemy can tempt, suggest, provoke, and deceive – but he cannot force. He is a barking dog on a chain, Cassian says. He can frighten those who come too close, but he cannot reach those who stay near to God. The chain is real. The bark is loud. But the bite only lands on those who have wandered away from the Master’s side.1
“Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.”
This is one of the most beautiful promises in all of Scripture, and one of the simplest. God is not far away. He is not hiding. He is not playing games. He is waiting for us to take one step in His direction. When we do, He closes the rest of the distance. The leper took one step toward Christ. Christ covered the entire remaining gap with a single touch.
But then James says something that stings: “Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded.”
He is not speaking to outsiders. He is speaking to believers. He is speaking to people who already know God, who already pray, who already fast. And he calls them sinners and double-minded. Sinners because their hands – the instruments of their actions – are dirty. Double-minded because their hearts are divided, trying to love God and love the world at the same time. We met this problem on Day 5, when James described the two wisdoms at war inside the human heart. Now he names the cure: cleanse and purify. Stop trying to serve two masters. Choose.
St. Macarius the Great was a fourth-century Egyptian desert father. His homilies shaped the entire tradition of Orthodox spiritual life. He teaches that the “double-minded” person James describes is not someone who doubts God’s existence. Rather, it is someone who wants God and something else. They want God and wealth. They want God and reputation. They want God and comfort. They want God and control. The divided heart is the heart that says yes to God on Sunday and yes to the world on Monday. Macarius teaches that purity of heart is simply this: wanting one thing. Wanting God. And letting everything else take its proper place beneath that single desire.2
“Lament and mourn and weep! Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom.”
This sounds harsh, especially in a culture that tells us to stay positive and avoid negative emotions. But James is not against joy. He will come to joy later. What he opposes is the shallow laughter that masks sin. It is the cheerfulness that refuses to take our spiritual condition seriously. There is a kind of happiness that is actually a form of denial, and James says it must go.
The Great Lent is the Church’s annual invitation to this kind of honest mourning. It is not despair. Never despair. It is the deep, cleansing grief of a person. This is someone who has seen the gap between what God calls them to be and what they actually are. This grief is not the end of joy. It is the doorway to a deeper joy. This is the joy of the person who has stopped pretending. It is the joy of someone who has started being healed.
“Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He will lift you up.”
This is the promise that holds the whole passage together. When we go down; God will bring us up. When we empty ourself; God fills us up. When we mourn; God comforts. When we submit; God lifts. The movement is always the same: descent first, then ascent. The Cross before the Resurrection. Friday before Sunday. This is the grammar of the Christian life, and the Great Lent teaches us to speak it fluently.
Do Not Judge Your Brother (vv. 11-12)
“Do not speak evil of one another, brethren. He who speaks evil of a brother and judges his brother, speaks evil of the law and judges the law. But if you judge the law, you are not a doer of the law but a judge. There is one Lawgiver, who is able to save and to destroy. Who are you to judge another?” (4:11–12)
James now turns to the tongue. It is a subject he has addressed before (1:26, 3:1–12) and cannot seem to leave alone. The church he is writing to cannot seem to stop gossiping.
Speaking evil of a brother is not the same as honest disagreement or legitimate correction. James is addressing the kind of talk that tears people down behind their backs. These include the whispered judgments and the character assassinations dressed up as “concern.” There are also those conversations that begin with “I probably shouldn’t say this, but…” We all know what this looks like. Most of us have done it this in the recent past.
James says that when we judge our brother, we are actually placing ourselves above the law. We act as though we have the authority to condemn. But there is only one Lawgiver, only one Judge, only one Person with the right to assess another human soul. And it is not us.
St. Dorotheos of Gaza has a teaching on judgment. We have met him several times in these reflections. His teaching is simple and devastating. He says: when you see your brother sin, you do not know what happened before that moment. You do not know what temptation he faced. You do not know what pain drove him or what struggle he lost. You do not know what happened after. You do not know whether he went home and wept before God. You do not know whether he repented in secret. You do not know whether God has already forgiven him. You see one frame from the middle of a film and you pronounce the verdict on the whole story. Only God sees the whole film. Only God can judge.3
The Great Lent should make us less judgmental, not more. The person who is honestly examining his/her own heart has no energy left to examine anyone else’s. The person who has seen his/her own leprosy has no right to point at someone else’s spots. We realized this as we did yesterday.
You Do Not Know What Tomorrow Will Bring (vv. 13–17)
“Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, spend a year there, buy and sell, and make a profit’; whereas you do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour that appears for a little time and then vanishes away. Instead you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we shall live and do this or that.’ But now you boast in your arrogance. All such boasting is evil.” (4:13–16)
James now addresses something that most of us do every day without thinking about it. We plan. We assume. We talk about next month and next year. We discuss the five-year plan and retirement. We envision the house we will buy and the trip we will take. We speak about the future as though it belongs to us.
It does not.
James is not saying we should never plan. He is saying we should never plan as though God were not involved. The difference between wisdom and arrogance is one small phrase: “If the Lord wills.” In the Syriac and Arabic-speaking Christian traditions of the Oriental Orthodox world, this phrase is found in both languages. It is ‘in sha’Allah’ in Arabic and ‘en Moran tsobe‘ in Syriac. It is not a religious cliché. It is a daily confession of dependence on God. Every plan is provisional. Every tomorrow is a gift, not a right.
St. Basil the Great is known for his famous Homily 7. It is commonly titled from the parable: “I Will Tear Down My Barns”. He preaches on the rich fool of Luke 12 who made elaborate plans for his wealth. The rich fool was told, “This night your soul will be required of you.” Basil teaches that planning without reference to God leads to a fundamental spiritual error. It is the most basic mistake one can make. This person has forgotten that he is a creature. The creature does not control the future. The creature receives each day as a gift from the Creator and holds it with open hands. Basil warns his congregation that the arrogance of presuming on tomorrow is not just foolishness. It is a kind of idolatry. This arrogance places the self in the position that belongs only to God.4
“Therefore, to him who knows to do good and does not do it, to him it is sin.” (4:17)
James ends this section with a sentence that is quiet but lethal. Sin is not only doing what is wrong. Sin is also not doing what is right. The failure to act, the good left undone, the kindness withheld, the moment passed – these are sins too. And they are the sins most of us commit most often, because they leave no visible evidence. No one sees the prayer we did not pray. They do not see the gift we did not give. No one notices the word of encouragement we swallowed because it was not convenient.
The Great Lent confronts this directly. The fast is not only about what we give up. It is about what we take up. These are the prayers we add, the alms we give, the time we offer, and the good we do. To fast from food but not fast from selfishness is only half a fast. And half a fast, James would say, is a sin.
A Warning to the Rich (5:1–6)
“Come now, you rich, weep and howl for your miseries that are coming upon you! Your riches are corrupted, and your garments are moth-eaten. Your gold and silver are corroded, and their corrosion will be a witness against you and will eat your flesh like fire. You have heaped up treasure in the last days. Indeed the wages of the labourers who mowed your fields, which you kept back by fraud, cry out; and the cries of the reapers have reached the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth. You have lived on the earth in pleasure and luxury; you have fattened your hearts as in a day of slaughter. You have condemned, you have murdered the just; he does not resist you.” (5:1–6)
James saves his sharpest language for last. And he aims it at the rich.
This is not comfortable reading. It applies to anyone living in the modern world. Most of us – by the standards of history and of much of the world today – are rich. We may not feel rich. If we have a full meal tonight, we are richer than most people. If we have a roof over our heads and keep money in the bank, we are richer than most people. They are people who have ever lived. James is speaking to us.
His accusation is specific. The rich he condemns have done three things. First, they have hoarded – piling up wealth while others go hungry. Second, they have defrauded – withholding the wages of their workers. Third, they have lived in luxury and self-indulgence while the just suffer around them.
The language is fierce: the wages cry out. The cries reach the ears of the Lord of Sabbath – the Lord of Hosts, the Lord of Armies. This is the language of the Old Testament prophets. Amos, Isaiah, and Micah thundered against the wealthy. They spoke against those who crushed the poor. James stands in their line. And he does not flinch.
St. John Chrysostom was a great preacher of Antioch and Constantinople. He earned the nickname “Golden-Mouth” for his eloquence. He earned the hatred of the wealthy. He was relentless in insisting that the riches of the few belonged to the poor. In his Homily 12 on 1 Timothy, Chrysostom teaches that the person who hoards wealth while others starve. Such a person is not merely ungenerous. He asserts that such a person is a thief. The bread in your cupboard, Chrysostom says, belongs to the hungry person. The coat hanging unused in your wardrobe belongs to the person who is cold. The money sitting in your account belongs to the person in need. You are not giving charity when you share. You are paying a debt.5
St. Basil the Great conveys a similar message in his Homily 6, “I Will Tear Down My Barns.” He states, “The bread that you store up belongs to the hungry. The cloak that lies in your chest belongs to the naked. The gold that you have hidden in the ground belongs to the poor.” This is not socialism. It is Christianity. The early Church held all things in common (Acts 2:44–45). The Fathers simply asked their congregations to take the Gospel seriously.6
The Great Lent is the season when we practice this. Fasting is not just about food. It involves loosening our grip on everything we hoard – money, time, comfort, security. We must allow these resources to flow toward those who need them. Every meal we skip during the fast could become a meal we fund for someone else. Every luxury we forgo could become a gift to someone who has nothing. The Lenten fast is meant to create space. This includes space in our stomachs, space in our schedules, and space in our wallets. These spaces are for generosity.
James says the withheld wages cry out. Let the Great Lent be the season when we stop making them cry.
For Our Journey Today
Say “if the Lord wills” – and mean it. Today, hold our plans loosely. When we catch ourself assuming that tomorrow is guaranteed, pause. Acknowledge that our life is a vapour – not to be morbid but to be honest. This is not fatalism. It is freedom. The person who knows that today is a gift lives it more fully. They embrace it more than the person who takes it for granted.
Do the good we know to do. James says that knowing the good and not doing it is sin. Is there a kindness we have been meaning to show? A conversation we have been avoiding? A gift we have been meaning to give? Do it today. Do not wait for a more convenient time. Tomorrow is not promised.
Give something away. Not something which we will not miss. Something that costs us . James’s warning to the rich is a warning to anyone who hoards while others hunger. During this second week of the fast, find a way to convert our fasting into someone else’s feast. Give money, give food, give time. Let the bread we did not eat become the bread someone else receives.
Lord Jesus Christ, before whom the leper knelt and was made clean, we kneel before You now and ask for a different kind of cleansing. Cleanse our hands of the evil we have done and the good we have failed to do. Purify our hearts of the double-mindedness that tries to love You and the world at the same time. Teach us to hold tomorrow loosely and to live today generously. Free us from the hoarding that makes others cry out and the arrogance that forgets we are dust. Humble us, Lord, and then lift us up – not into wealth or comfort or reputation, but into Your presence, where alone we are safe. By the prayers of the Most Holy Theotokos, the holy Apostle James, and all the saints, have mercy on us and save us. Amen.
- St. John Cassian (c. 360–435) — Conferences (Collationes), particularly Conference 7: “On the Changeableness of the Soul and on Evil Spirits.” Edition: John Cassian: The Conferences, translated by Boniface Ramsey, Ancient Christian Writers Series, No. 57 (Paulist Press, 1997). Also available in NPNF, Series II, Vol. 11 (translated by Edgar C.S. Gibson; available at newadvent.org and ccel.org). ↩︎
- St. Macarius the Great (c. 300–391) — Spiritual Homilies (Homiliae Spirituales), particularly Homilies 5, 15, and 26. Edition: Pseudo-Macarius: The Fifty Spiritual Homilies and the Great Letter, translated by George A. Maloney, Classics of Western Spirituality (Paulist Press, 1992). ↩︎
- Abba Dorotheos of Gaza (6th century) — Instructions, particularly Instruction 6: “On Not Judging Our Neighbour.” Edition: Dorotheos of Gaza: Discourses and Sayings, translated by Eric P. Wheeler, Cistercian Studies Series 33 (Cistercian Publications, 1977). ↩︎
- St. Basil the Great (c. 330–379) — Homily 7, “I Will Tear Down My Barns” (De Avaritia), on Luke 12:16–21. Edition: Saint Basil: On Social Justice, translated by C. Paul Schroeder (St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, Popular Patristics Series, 2009). This accessible volume collects Basil’s major homilies on wealth, poverty, and justice, including Homilies 6, 7, and 8. ↩︎
- St. John Chrysostom (c. 349–407) — Homily 12 on 1 Timothy, on 1 Timothy 4:1–3. Edition: NPNF, Series I, Vol. 13: Homilies on Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, Thessalonians, Timothy, Titus, and Philemon (available at newadvent.org and ccel.org) ↩︎
- St. Basil the Great — Homily 6, “I Will Tear Down My Barns” / also known as Homily to the Rich (In Divites). Edition: Saint Basil: On Social Justice, translated by C. Paul Schroeder (St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2009). ↩︎
