“My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.”
James 1:2–4

Persevering in Tough Times

James is a remarkably direct writer. Unlike Paul, he does not begin with a lengthy introduction before arriving at his theme. He writes like a shepherd with an urgent burden upon his heart. There is no time to waste. God’s people are suffering, and James immediately addresses the reality of Christian living in a fallen world.

Later in the epistle he reminds us that life is “even a vapour” (James 4:14). That perspective seems to shape everything he writes. Life is brief. Eternity is near. Therefore every word is weighty, practical and full of purpose.

One of the great themes woven throughout this little epistle is the subject of trials and the believer’s response to them. James continually returns to the necessity of patient endurance. Whether we live in the first century or the twenty-first, God’s will for His people has not changed. We are called to persevere.

It is therefore significant that James opens his letter with suffering.

He does not first discuss church organisation, Christian liberty or doctrine. He begins with trials because trials touch every believer. No Christian escapes them. Young or old, rich or poor, mature believer or recent convert—we all pass through seasons of testing.

Yet James immediately surprises us.

“My brethren, count it all joy…”

At first glance those words almost seem impossible. Surely suffering produces sorrow rather than joy? James is not asking us to enjoy pain, nor is he suggesting we pretend suffering is pleasant. Such an attitude would be unnatural.

Rather, he calls us to look beyond the trial to the God who governs it.

Christian joy is not rooted in our circumstances but in God’s purpose.

The Lord never wastes the afflictions of His people. Every trial has been measured by infinite wisdom, directed by perfect love and designed for our eternal good. Behind every burden stands our heavenly Father.

James teaches us that trials do not create faith so much as reveal it. A living, vibrant faith is proved—and strengthened—in the furnace of affliction.

That is why the prospect of spiritual maturity enables James to begin this remarkable exhortation with the words, “Count it all joy.”

1. The Nature of Our Trials

James was writing primarily to Jewish Christians who had been scattered abroad through persecution. Many had been driven from their homes. Some had lost businesses and livelihoods. They knew what it was to live under pressure because of their faith in Christ.

The word James uses is peirasmos. It is commonly translated “trial” or “temptation,” and in reality the two ideas belong together.

Thomas Manton wrote:

“The word signifies such troubles as come upon us unawares, as sudden things do most discompose the mind.”

That is exactly what trials often are.

They arrive unexpectedly.

Life can change in a single telephone call, one visit to the doctor, one conversation, one unexpected loss.

Every trial also brings its own temptations.

We may be tempted to fear.

Tempted to question God’s wisdom.

Tempted to become bitter.

Tempted to envy others.

Tempted to doubt the goodness of God.

For this reason James immediately speaks of “the trying of your faith.” The word describes the proving of something genuine, much as precious metals are tested in the furnace.

Peter uses exactly the same imagery:

“That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire…” (1 Peter 1:7).

James also reminds us that these are “divers” temptations—various trials.

They come in many forms.

Looking across any congregation, no two Christians are being tested in precisely the same way.

One young believer struggles to stand for Christ in school or university.

Another battles loneliness.

An elderly saint finds that advancing years have brought weakness where once there was strength.

Parents carry heavy burdens for children.

Marriages experience seasons of pressure.

Some wrestle with chronic illness.

Others quietly carry the sorrow of bereavement.

Still others know the pain of disappointment or betrayal.

Some are contemplating giving up a work that God has called him or her to do, as a result of discouragement.

Then there are those whose greatest battle is fought within—the constant temptation to fear as wave after wave of trouble crashes upon them.

No one is exempt.

This is life in a broken world.

Yet James would have us remember that none of these trials have escaped the notice of God.

They differ in form, but every one of them comes under His sovereign hand.

That truth brings us naturally to the second great lesson in our passage.

2. The Sovereignty of God in Our Trials

Having described the varied nature of our trials, James immediately directs our attention to the God who stands behind them. The Christian can never understand suffering without first understanding the sovereignty of God.

James is not suggesting that every sinful act is authored by God. Men remain responsible for their actions, and later in this chapter he makes it abundantly clear that God does not tempt any man to sin. Yet he is teaching us that our trials never lie outside the control of our heavenly Father.

Nothing comes into the life of the child of God by accident.

There is not a pain we experience, not a tear we shed, not a burden we carry that has escaped His notice. Before it reaches us it has first passed through His sovereign hand.

That is why James can command us to “count it all joy.” Were our trials merely the product of chance, there would be little comfort. But because they are governed by infinite wisdom and perfect love, we may rest in the confidence that God knows exactly what He is doing.

Throughout Scripture this truth shines with remarkable clarity.

Think of Joseph.

His brothers hated him. They stripped him of his coat, cast him into a pit and sold him into slavery. Humanly speaking, it was an act of shocking cruelty.

Yet years later Joseph could look those same brothers in the eye and declare,

“Ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good.”

Notice that Joseph does not deny their wickedness. They meant evil.

But over and above their sinful intentions stood the sovereign purpose of God.

The same event had two intentions—man’s was evil, God’s was gracious.

The book of Job teaches exactly the same lesson.

Satan longed to destroy God’s servant, but he could not move one step beyond the limits God Himself established. Every trial, every sorrow and every loss remained under the government of heaven.

Nor was it any different in the New Testament.

The persecution that scattered the believers from Jerusalem appeared, at first, to be a crushing defeat. Families were uprooted. Homes were abandoned. Lives were turned upside down.

Yet Luke tells us that those who were scattered “went every where preaching the word.”

What seemed to be the Church’s greatest setback became the means of the Gospel’s greatest advance.

God had a larger purpose.

He always does.

Perhaps today you cannot understand why the Lord has permitted a particular burden into your life.

You have prayed.

You have waited.

Yet the trial remains.

Remember this: God’s purposes are often hidden, but they are never absent.

Sometimes He is correcting us as a loving Father.

The writer to the Hebrews reminds us that “whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth.” No child enjoys discipline, but every wise father knows that correction is an act of love, not of cruelty.

There are lessons that prosperity never teaches.

There are graces that only suffering can produce.

At other times God is preparing us for some future work that we cannot yet see.

Joseph could never have ruled Egypt had he not first passed through the prison.

David could never have written many of the Psalms had he never fled from Saul.

Paul’s ministry was forged in hardship.

And our own lives are no different.

One day we shall look back and discover that what seemed to be the darkest chapter was preparing us for the greatest usefulness.

The most incomprehensible of trials, including those which arise because of the sinfulness and wrongdoing of others, are still permitted by God as He works His divine purpose.

Paul gives us this wonderful assurance:

“There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.”

Notice those words, God is faithful.

Not merely powerful.

Not merely sovereign.

Faithful.

He knows exactly how much His children can bear.

He measures every trial with a Father’s hand.

The furnace is never hotter than His wisdom allows.

The burden is never heavier than His grace can sustain.

The Lord who appoints the trial also promises the strength to endure it.

And that brings us to the great question: if God governs our trials, how should we respond to them?

James answers that question in the next verse.

The Christian response to every emergency is faith.

3. The Exercise of Faith in Our Trials

Having shown us the sovereignty of God in our trials, James now directs us to our response. God’s sovereignty does not encourage passivity; it calls forth faith.

“The trying of your faith worketh patience.”

Notice that James does not say the trying of your circumstances, your health or your emotions. He speaks of your faith. It is faith that is being tested, because faith is the very principle by which the Christian lives.

The Christian response to every emergency is faith.

Just as we breathe instinctively and fight for life, so the believer instinctively reaches out to God. In the darkness, through uncertainty and tears, faith searches for the Lord. It clings to His promises when everything else seems to be slipping away.

Faith is never more precious than when it is exercised.

When a ship is designed and constructed, everything takes place in the safety of the shipyard. Every plate is inspected, every rivet tested and every engine examined. But no one builds a ship merely to admire it while it remains in harbour. It is built for the sea.

Therefore, before entering service, the vessel undergoes sea trials. It is tested by the very element for which it was designed. Only then can its strength be proved.

So it is with the Christian.

God has not saved us merely to sit in the harbour. He has called us to live for Christ in a fallen world. The faith He has implanted within us is not strengthened by ease but by exercise. It is only as we pass through the storms of life that we discover, by His grace, what He has been working within us all along.

The same principle is seen in the athlete.

How does the runner strengthen the muscles needed for the race? How does the weightlifter increase his strength? There must be resistance.

Exercise involves effort. It often involves pain. Muscles only develop when they are stretched beyond what is comfortable.

God has His own spiritual gymnasium.

The trials He appoints become the means by which faith is strengthened. He places us under pressure, not to crush us, but to make us stronger. What seems at first to be a burden becomes, in His gracious purpose, the very means of our spiritual growth.

James would have us understand that every trial is an opportunity to trust God afresh.

There is another illustration which Scripture itself uses.

The refiner places gold into the furnace. As the heat increases, the impurities rise to the surface and are removed. The fire does not destroy the gold; it reveals its purity.

Peter takes up this same image when he writes,

“That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire…”

Job understood that truth long before Peter wrote those words. In the midst of unimaginable suffering he could still declare,

“When he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold.”

What remarkable confidence!

Job did not understand all that God was doing. He wrestled with deep questions. He poured out his grief before the Lord.

But beneath all his questions lay one settled conviction.

God knew.

God was working.

God would finish what He had begun.

That is faith.

But how do we exercise such faith?

Primarily, we remind ourselves of the sovereignty of God. We deliberately lift our eyes above the trial and remember that our Father’s hand has not slipped from the helm.

Then we do what the writer to the Hebrews commands us to do:

“Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith.”

How easily our eyes become fixed upon the storm. Peter walked safely upon the water while his gaze remained upon Christ. It was only when he saw the wind and the waves that he began to sink.

The same is true of us.

Faith flourishes when Christ fills our vision.

He is the Friend who never leaves us nor forsakes us.

He is the compassionate High Priest who is touched with the feeling of our infirmities.

He is the Man of Sorrows who knows every pathway of suffering.

He is the Shepherd who walks with His sheep through the valley of the shadow of death.

And He is the risen Saviour who has overcome the world.

In every trial, therefore, let us look unto Jesus.

When our strength fails, His does not.

When our understanding is limited, His wisdom is infinite.

When our hearts are overwhelmed, He remains our refuge and our strength.

Let us lean our weary heads upon His breast, trust His unfailing love, and follow Him until the storm has passed.

For the faith that clings to Christ will never be disappointed.

4. God’s Purpose Through Our Trials

James has shown us the nature of our trials. He has reminded us of God’s sovereign hand in every affliction. He has called us to exercise faith in the midst of adversity. Now he brings us to God’s great purpose.

“The trying of your faith worketh patience.”

The word “patience” does not describe passive resignation. It speaks of steadfast endurance. It is the grace that keeps going. It refuses to abandon the path of obedience simply because the way has become difficult.

This is not the patience of the man sitting idly, waiting for something to happen. It is the perseverance of the pilgrim who keeps walking, the soldier who holds his ground and the mountaineer who continues his ascent.

Think of the mountaineer as he climbs towards the summit. He cannot afford to be careless or impatient. Every foothold must be secure. Every handhold must be tested. Every rope and every harness must be carefully checked. Progress may be slow, but it is steady. Each mountain climbed makes him stronger for the next.

So it is in the Christian life.

We all face mountains.

For one believer it may be failing health.

For another it is loneliness.

For another it is the grief of an empty chair.

Some carry heavy burdens within their families.

Others wrestle with disappointments that no one else ever sees.

The mountains differ, but the calling is the same.

Keep climbing.

Keep trusting.

Keep looking to Christ.

Do not panic in the day of trouble.

Commit your burden to the Lord in prayer.

Continue to do the things you already know to be right.

Remain faithful in God’s house.

Remain faithful in God’s Word.

Remain faithful in prayer.

Remain faithful in your witness.

Remain in the work that God has given.

Do not allow the trial to rob you of the work God has given you to do.

James tells us that this patient endurance has a glorious result:

“But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.”

He is not speaking about sinless perfection.

He is describing spiritual maturity.

God is making His people complete.

His purpose is not merely to make us happier, healthier or wealthier. His purpose is to make us more like His Son.

That is why God prizes Christian character above earthly success.

Our lives are not measured by the size of our home, the balance in our bank account or the honours this world bestows.

God measures a life by faithfulness.

By humility.

By holiness.

By Christlikeness.

Sometimes He strips away earthly comforts in order to produce heavenly graces.

Sometimes He makes us weak so that we learn the sufficiency of His strength.

Sometimes He empties our hands so that they may be filled with Christ.

Throughout Scripture we see this principle.

Noah was described as “a just man and perfect in his generations.” That does not mean he was without sin. It means he was a mature man who walked with God.

For over one hundred years he quietly built the ark in a world that mocked him. Day after day he persevered. Year after year he remained faithful. He preached righteousness while the world laughed.

His greatness lay not in public applause but in steadfast obedience.

God is still looking for men and women like that.

In my library I have a little booklet entitled More Precious Than Gold. It was written by a missionary named Bob Stokes.

Bob and his wife Cynthia surrendered everything to serve Christ in India. They left behind home, security and career because they believed the Lord had called them.

One day an Indian Christian told Bob that God had greatly blessed him by taking his little daughter home to heaven.

As the father of two small children, Bob found those words difficult to understand.

Within a year he understood them all too well.

His own little daughter was taken into the presence of the Lord.

Then, while Cynthia lay in hospital suffering with fever, dysentery swept through the family. Their second child also entered the presence of Christ.

Yet through those deep waters something remarkable happened.

Their language tutor, a devout Hindu, watched the peace and grace that sustained Bob and Cynthia through their sorrow.

He saw that Christ was real.

In time he came to faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.

Years later Bob reflected upon those experiences with these moving words:

“To reign with Him in glory means to suffer with Him now. It seems that God will not leave those who submit themselves as candidates for the Crown to sit and have an easy time, but will shake all that can be shaken, sift to the very core, until only Christ Himself remains. Then, in the crucible of affliction, we begin to see His living hand preparing us for glory.”

No wonder he entitled the booklet More Precious Than Gold.

That is what James means when he says,

“Count it all joy.”

He is not asking us to rejoice in pain.

He is calling us to rejoice in the God who works through pain.

The first readers of this letter understood that.

The writer to the Hebrews says of those early believers,

“Ye took joyfully the spoiling of your goods.”

How could they do that?

Because they knew they possessed “a better and an enduring substance.”

Ultimately, however, our eyes must rest upon One greater than Noah, greater than Bob Stokes and greater than every other example of patient endurance.

They must rest upon Christ.

The Lord Jesus endured the contradiction of sinners against Himself.

He endured Gethsemane.

He endured the mockery.

He endured the scourging.

He endured the Cross.

Why?

“For the joy that was set before Him.”

He looked beyond the suffering to the glory that would follow—to the accomplishment of the Father’s will and the redemption of His people.

Every trial we endure is but a faint shadow of His suffering.

Yet because He endured for us, He now walks with us.

He who carried the Cross will sustain those who carry theirs.

So whatever trial you face today, do not lose heart.

Trust your Father’s wisdom.

Exercise faith.

Patiently endure.

And keep your eyes fixed upon Jesus Christ.

For a living, vibrant faith is not proved upon the mountain-top but in the valley, where the Lord Himself walks beside His people until faith gives way to sight.