Misery (James 5:1-6)

We live in a culture that screams at us, "More, more, more!" More stuff, more money, more, more, more! It's this insatiable hunger, a hole we can't seem to fill no matter how hard we try. And we've bought into it; we've invested in this empty narrative. Why? Because there's something seductive about the belief that if we just accumulate enough, then we'll be complete. That's a lie we've been sold, and James is about to set the record straight.

Let me assure you, this is a sermon you won't want to tune out of. And more than that, it’s a sermon that all of us—including myself—need to hear, digest, and act upon. It will challenge us. It will make us uncomfortable. But, oh, the liberation that comes when we align our lives with the unchanging word of God. So, lean in, open your hearts and minds, and let's get to work.

Miseries Are Coming

Let's begin by diving straight into James 5:1, where James starts with an urgent tone, a note of impending doom. "Come now, you rich, weep and howl for the miseries that are coming upon you."

You can almost hear the treble of a horror movie soundtrack in the background, can't you? "Weep and howl," James says. This isn't a pat on the back, saying, "Ah, you'll be alright; just pray about it." No, this is a fire alarm ringing at full volume. It's jarring, it's uncomfortable, and it's meant to be.

Now, let's be clear about something: James isn't suggesting that wealth, in and of itself, is sinful. The Bible has many examples of godly men and women blessed with wealth. Abraham, Job, Lydia—the list goes on. Wealth isn't the issue; it's how we interact with that wealth, how we let it define us, shape our ambitions and, most perilously, delude our spirituality.

What does James mean by "miseries that are coming"? It's not just financial ruin. No, that would be too superficial an interpretation. James is talking about a spiritual breakdown. A crumbling façade revealing that maybe, just maybe, our hearts have been in the wrong place. A revelation that exposes the emptiness of an earthly treasure chest that can't follow us into eternity.

It's the existential horror of waking up one day and realizing that you've been climbing the ladder of success, only to find out it was leaning against the wrong wall. And by then, it's too late. The "miseries" have arrived.

Imagine the sinking feeling of standing before God, the Creator of the Universe, with a spiritual resume filled with materialistic pursuits—golden trophies that suddenly look like rusty tin cans in the light of His glory. That’s the sort of misery James is talking about.

James isn't mincing words here, folks. He’s a spiritual physician diagnosing a terminal illness. And like any good physician, his warning isn't meant to condemn but to lead to life-saving intervention.

So, as we sit here today, let's absorb the weight of this warning. "Miseries" are coming. But they don't have to. Amen?

We have a chance to pivot, to rethink our relationship with wealth. But first, we need to examine the case James lays out, the evidence he presents that exposes the darkness lurking in our hearts. Buckle up, because James is about to serve us some hard truths. Are you ready?

Guilty

As we transition from James' grim warning about the coming "miseries," we find ourselves confronting a word that no one wants stamped on their life: "Guilty." James isn't tiptoeing through the tulips here; he's trampling through our perfectly manicured spiritual gardens with a bulldozer of truth.

The prosecution begins. The charge is spiritual neglect born out of wealth and materialism. I want you to picture yourself sitting there, in that divine courtroom, heart pounding as the evidence is about to be presented. Are you nervous? You should be.

You see, "guilty" is more than just a legal term. It's a spiritual reality that points to a condition of the heart. A heart, mind you, that has been fattened by the very wealth and materialistic pursuits we thought would make us whole. Instead, what do we find? A soul languishing in a self-imposed prison, a heart drifting farther away from the true riches found in Jesus Christ.

Being "guilty" doesn't just mean that you've done something wrong. It means you've missed the mark entirely; you’ve aimed your life at a target that doesn’t even matter. And what's worse, the fallout isn't just a personal loss; it echoes into eternity and impacts the lives of those around us. When we live lives soaked in materialism, we inadvertently endorse a value system that is inherently contradictory to the kingdom of God.

Evidence Against You

If you've ever been in a courtroom, you know that evidence is the linchpin that can make or break a case. Well, the evidence James presents is so clear-cut, it's almost like fingerprints left at the scene of a crime. James says, "Your riches have rotted and your garments are moth-eaten."

Rotted riches and moth-eaten garments—let that sink in. These are vivid pictures James is painting. He's saying, "Look at what you've gathered, what you’ve hoarded. It's decomposing right in front of you!"

How many of us have clothes we've never worn or tech gadgets still in their boxes? We invest in stocks, in crypto, in property, thinking these are sound, lasting investments. But what if the real evidence against us is not just these "things," but the misplaced trust and value we place on them? You see, the rot isn't just in the material things; it's a reflection of a rot in our souls. A decay that begins the moment we place our security in anything other than God.

Remember Jesus’ words in Matthew 6:19-21? "Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven... For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Our Savior said it plain and clear, and yet we act like it’s a riddle we can't quite solve.

In God's divine courtroom, this rotted wealth and these moth-eaten garments are Exhibit A. They are a tangible manifestation of a spiritual dilemma, glaring proof that we've been investing in the wrong kingdom. It's like investing in a company that's about to go bankrupt; we're putting our resources into a sinking ship.

Crying Out Against You

As we continue through this divine courtroom scene, the next piece of evidence doesn't come from ledgers or bank accounts; it comes from a source far more compelling and heartbreaking. James states, "The wages of the laborers who mowed your fields, which you kept back by fraud, are crying out against you."

Do you hear that? It’s not just material possessions or withheld funds that are testifying; it’s the cries of injustice. When you’re entrusted with wealth, you're also entrusted with power—the power to impact lives, for better or worse. And James says that some have used this power to defraud laborers, the very people whose sweat and toil have built up these earthly treasures.

The language here is stunning. The wages are "crying out" against you. This is no silent, written complaint. This is an audible, anguished cry that reverberates in the chambers of divine justice. It's as if the very coins in your pocket are wailing, each one a vocal witness to avarice and exploitation. And every cry echoes into eternity, stacking up more evidence in the case against us.

Imagine that you had a chorus of voices following you around, voices of people you’ve exploited, underpaid, or even just ignored in your pursuit of wealth. How loud would that chorus be? How would it feel to have their voices, their cries for justice, as the soundtrack of your life?

God takes the cries of the oppressed very, very seriously. So should we.

Fattened Hearts

As we navigate through James' spiritual courtroom, we've looked at decaying riches, at cries of injustice, and now we arrive at perhaps the most jarring indictment of all. James says, "You have fattened your hearts in a day of slaughter."

"Fattened your hearts"—what a haunting phrase. Picture a cow being led to the slaughter, oblivious to its fate because it's been well-fed and cared for, only to meet a tragic end. That's the metaphor James uses to illustrate the gravity of our spiritual condition. Our hearts, engorged by materialism, are bloated to the point where they've become spiritually unresponsive. We’re like that cow—comfortable, well-fed, but utterly blind to the impending calamity.

And it's not just a physical fatness James is pointing to, but a spiritual numbness, an insensitivity to the things of God because we're so entranced by the things of the world. Our hearts have become calloused, hard to the touch of the Spirit. We are so consumed with gathering, with consuming, that we've lost sight of what truly feeds the soul.

This isn't just a tragedy; it's a spiritual crisis. We have gorged ourselves on the ephemeral treats of this world—on shopping sprees, on luxury vacations, on whatever gives us a quick dopamine hit—while neglecting the eternal banquet that God offers us.

Don't miss the timeframe James gives here: "in a day of slaughter." We fatten our hearts as if we have all the time in the world, not realizing that life is but a vapor, and our day of reckoning may be sooner than we think. In our complacency, we've forgotten that we are eternal beings, accountable to an eternal God.

The Apostle Paul paints a striking contrast in Colossians 3:2 when he says, "Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth." That's the antidote to a fattened heart. We need a spiritual diet that leans heavily on heavenly sustenance, one that exercises faith and flexes love.

The Trail of Carnage

We've arrived at the final piece of evidence that James lays out in this divine courtroom—what he refers to as "you have condemned and murdered the righteous person." Now, that's heavy language. Condemned and murdered? Really? And yet James isn't mincing words. He's pointing us to the trail of carnage that our obsession with wealth and materialism leaves in its wake.

Think about it—every decision we make in pursuit of wealth doesn't happen in a vacuum. These choices have real-world implications. This trail of carnage isn't just metaphorical; it's tangible, and the casualties are real. They're as real as relationships ruined by greed, as communities destroyed by unjust practices, as lives lost to poverty while we live in excess. The "righteous person" in James' admonition can be anyone who suffers because of our actions or even our inaction.

Now, some of you might say, "Well, I haven’t literally murdered anyone." But remember what Jesus said about anger being akin to murder in the heart? It’s not just our actions, but the state of our hearts that God examines. And if our hearts are set on material gain at the expense of righteousness, then yes, we are leaving a trail of spiritual, emotional, and sometimes even physical carnage behind us.

Are We Guilty?

Friends, we need to comprehend the gravity of this evidence against us. This isn't a speeding ticket; it's a spiritual indictment. And James is pleading with us to look at the evidence and recognize it for what it is—a sign that we need to recalibrate, reassess, and realign our lives with the unshakeable Kingdom of God.

So as the evidence stacks up, the question we have to grapple with is this: Will we heed the warning, or will we continue to accumulate evidence against ourselves? Because, let me tell you, the evidence will either lead us to conviction or to transformation. The choice is ours.

So let's pause and ask ourselves: What is the state of our hearts today? Are they fattened by worldly pursuits or filled with the richness of Christ? And as we ponder that, remember, God's grace is greater than any sin or shortcoming. His Spirit can melt even the most fattened hearts and transform them into hearts of flesh, pulsating with divine love. But for that transformation to happen, we need to acknowledge our condition first. The choice, as always, is ours.

We need to confront this uncomfortable reality. For too long, we've compartmentalized our faith and our financial decisions, as if God is concerned with our souls but indifferent to how we use our wallets. That couldn't be further from the truth. Every dollar spent, every business decision made, every priority set is a spiritual act with ethical implications.

So here we are, at the end of James' devastating case. We’ve looked at the rotting wealth, heard the cries of laborers, examined our fattened hearts, and now we’re faced with the trail of carnage. The evidence is laid bare. The question is, what will we do about it?

Will we plead ignorance, justify ourselves, or make excuses? Or will we, broken and humbled, acknowledge our guilt and turn towards the God who offers not condemnation but redemption?

As we consider that, let’s not forget: The trail of carnage can be replaced by a path of restoration, but that change starts with repentance. It starts with us. Right here, right now.

What Are We Doing?

So here we are, standing in the midst of the evidence, confronted with the mirror of James' words. We've heard about the miseries that are coming. We've sifted through the four pieces of convicting evidence. And you know what's screaming out loud in my mind, and probably in yours? "What are we doing?"

Seriously, what are we doing with our lives? Have we become so entranced by the allure of wealth that we’ve lost sight of what actually matters? When did our life goals become synonymous with dollar signs? When did the "American Dream" hijack the Kingdom of God in our hearts?

You know, the early church had none of this. They were known for their radical generosity, their countercultural values. They were living for something far greater than a cozy retirement or the next big purchase. Their lives were rooted in eternity, and that shaped how they lived in the here and now.

But let's remember who James was talking to. He was writing to Christians, to people who had heard the Gospel, who had probably sung hymns and praised God. There were wealthy Christians in the first century who struggled with prosperity. They aren’t unlike us. They are people who had to overcome sins allure.

Let me ask you, when's the last time we looked at our bank statements as theological documents, as a narrative of where our hearts truly lie? You see, it’s not just about avoiding the "big sins" like theft or adultery. It's about where you're storing up your treasure, because that's where your heart is.

When you step back and look at the grand tapestry of your life, what story does it tell? Is it one of self-centeredness, amassing as much as you can, however you can? Or is it a story that aligns with the self-sacrificing love of Jesus, who though rich, became poor so that through His poverty we might become rich in faith?

We've been given this one life. It's a mist, a vapor, here today and gone tomorrow. And James is practically grabbing us by the shoulders and asking, "What are you doing? Are you investing in what rusts and rots, or in what endures into eternity?"

So let's pause and ponder: What are we doing? It's a question that demands an answer, and friends, it's an answer we owe not just to ourselves but to the God who gave His all for us.

How Can We Overcome This?

As we stand at this crossroads, faced with James' hard but life-giving truths, we're left with a burning question: "How can we overcome this?" How do we change?

Is it through grit, willpower, or some seven-step financial stewardship program? While these things might offer some help, they don't get to the core of the issue. We need a deeper solution, one that goes beyond the surface to touch the very soul.

First, recognize the gravity of the problem. There's no overcoming without first admitting our need for change. As Psalm 51:17 says, "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise." God wants us to come to Him in humility, fully aware of our shortcomings but also fully aware of His abundant grace.

Second, repent. Real, soul-level repentance isn't just about saying sorry; it’s about turning away from our sin and toward God. It’s about rejecting the worldly script that says wealth equals worth and embracing our true identity in Christ as children of the King.

Third, redirect your treasure. Jesus tells us, "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (Matthew 6:21). Start investing in the Kingdom of God. Be it through tithing, charitable giving, or just living a more simplified life so others may simply live—redirect your earthly wealth into eternal riches.

And finally, remain in community. Don’t underestimate the power of a godly community to help keep you accountable, to remind you of truth, and to encourage you to live out your faith in tangible ways. There’s a reason God didn’t design us to go through life alone; we need each other, especially when tackling something as deeply ingrained as our attitude toward wealth.

You see, the answer to "How can we overcome this?" isn’t found in self-help books or financial seminars. It’s found at the foot of the Cross, in the person of Jesus Christ, who gave up the riches of heaven to make us rich in love, grace, and eternal life.

So as we conclude this journey through James 5:1-6, let’s make a commitment, here and now, to not only be hearers of the Word but doers also. Not to amass wealth for our own sake, but to be stewards of God’s blessings for the sake of His Kingdom.

Because when our time comes, and we stand before the throne of God, it won’t be our net worth that He examines, but the state of our hearts, and the lives we've touched. Let's make sure we hear the words, "Well done, good and faithful servant," instead of facing the miserable outcome James warns us about.

It's a high calling, but we serve a God who specializes in the impossible. With Him, not just change, but true transformation, is not only possible—it's a promise. Amen.