James 4:1-10 as the Epicenter of its Wisdom Literature Labyrinth Structure

Adulteresses! Even the English equivalent captures the consonantal clash of this pejorative epithet. The Greek vocative abuts the aspirated velar χ with a dental δ counterpart amidst an array of short vowels, a diphthong, and a liquid λ to make the mouth move in so disjointed a manner as to express the jarring condemnation phonetically to the hearers. Abrupt and confrontational, the affront almost defies any continuity when one considers how pastorally the writer has recently referred to his audience as ‘my brothers’ (1:2; 2:14; 3:1) ‘and my beloved brothers’ (1:16, 19; 2:5). These endearing designations would remind the audience of their election as well as emphasize their deep familial, though spiritual, connection in Christ. Yet in the midst of this firm but tender composition the author dramatically shifts into a paragraph that Douglas J. Moo describes as one of the “most strongly worded calls to repent” in the New Testament.

For centuries scholars assumed a reading of James as a stromateis, a string of quotations (perhaps haphazardly strung together) from a variety of sources (including the Hebrew Scriptures and the teachings of Jesus), that combines such pearls of wisdom into a necklace focused on generic moral instruction. On second glance, the structure of James reflects the tradition of Jewish leaders writing to Jewish people living in exile who were exposed to the difficulties and trials of their situation. What is certain is that both interpretations attempt to chart a maze of wonders, where each corridor interweaves introspective challenges for a believer’s behavior in terms of testing, wisdom, speech, money, and faith. The Ariadne thread that leads the hearer may be self-denial, as though one could look in a mirror while disengaging one’s memory of self. When the hearer reaches the inner sermonic sanctum of the letter’s labyrinth, the double-souled creature staring back is the manifestation of the hearer’s own heart desperately pretending to serve two masters.

Within this wisdom literature labyrinth structure, James 4:1-10 acts as the epicenter sending its shockwaves, shattering the illusion of aloof arrogance, honestly calling us by how we have chosen to live – as adulteresses, unashamedly parading in our worldliness neglecting our first love; as sinners, desiring all the benefits that friendship with the world falsely promises; and as double-souled creatures, pretending we can live between two worlds, proudly extracting the blessings of both in order to flaunt our own self-importance and desires. James dramatically cries out to us, “these things ought not to be” (3:10), for this is not the honorable Name by which we were called (2:7). Therein do we lack wisdom (1:5) and wander from the truth (5:19) and become the minotaur of our own making.