Economics

A Listing Ship: the Modern-day Liberal Party

Some rambling thoughts on the Australian Liberal Party’s current malaise…

The Liberal Party’s Identity Crisis

With each passing day, it seems harder and harder to discern any kind of coherent philosophical base uniting the Liberal Party. Even its alleged commitment to small government and the virtues of free markets is more theoretical than real these days. That particular axiom has been hollowed out recently, as the Coalition has sought to retain the favour of the electorate by embracing traditional Laborite, “big government” programmes. Promising to fund bloated schemes of questionable financial wisdom – the NDIS, the NBN and the Gonski school reforms are just three that come to mind – the Liberals have even abandoned any substantive devotion to economic liberalism. This is of a piece with their rather anaemic (non-)defence of key centre-right/conservative values. The party is now languishing in an agonising period of ideological confusion.

The question concerning the Liberals’ governing principles has taken on a new urgency in recent times, as the various ideological factions composing the party – the so-called “moderates” and “conservatives” – have descended into rancorous, internecine debate. This isn’t to say the issues besetting the Liberals weren’t present beforehand; something like this doesn’t just spring up overnight. Clearly, they have been percolating for some years now, with the party’s past two leaders, Tony Abbott and Malcolm Turnbull, acting as standard-bearers for the warring blocs. But the unexplained (not to mention incompetent) removal of the former member for Wentworth has exposed the fact that the present-day Liberal Party is, philosophically-speaking, rudderless.

It’s no exaggeration to say that the party of Menzies faces a crisis, one of existential import. But what has caused this ideological drift? Such a situation, slow to take shape, is unlikely to be mono-causal. Rather, it is the product of a complex confluence of factors, both proximate and distal.

Mapping the Crisis

At one level, the Liberals’ current woes can indeed be seen as a by-product of the party’s apparent inability to reconcile its two main philosophical streams. The increasingly schismatic quality of its internal ructions has obviously had an enervating effect – when any group is this consumed with collective navel-gazing, a period of drift is inevitable. The same-sex marriage debate showcased some of these divisions, with that particular question unveiling deeper fissures concerning the basic direction of the party. Tensions have been intensified immeasurably by the simmering personal feud between Abbott and Turnbull, who came to embody contrasting visions of what it meant to be a Liberal. Partly as a consequence, the party now seems beset by a kind of philosophical inertia, increasingly torn between two ways of articulating conservative/right-leaning politics in Australia. Such conflicts continue to smoulder, not only within the parliamentary party, but also at the local branch level.

Nevertheless, one shouldn’t make the mistake of thinking that this is the sole reason for the Liberals’ problems, important though it is; nor is it the only lens through which the party’s listlessness may be viewed. For several years now, the Coalition has been afraid to advance a principled, coherent, conservative approach to the many issues with which the country must grapple. Instead, it has either evaded those issues outright, or engaged in abortive and half-hearted attempts to give voice to a right-of-centre perspective. Worse, it has wholeheartedly embraced positions that were first propounded by its ideological opponents, and which in many cases undermine the strength of the conservative position. This sad state of affairs is doubtlessly connected to the party’s internal divisions, such that it persistently struggles to present a unified view on a clutch of controversial questions. But one doesn’t have to look too far to find examples of even Liberal warriors capitulating on principle for the (increasingly elusive) prize of electoral popularity.

It might be recalled that it was none other than Tony Abbott – a conservative pugilist, if ever there was one – who on the eve of the 2013 election promised that there would be “no cuts” to education, health, and the like. At best, the pronouncement jarred horribly with what many regarded as basic right-leaning approaches to the role of the state, fiscal rectitude, etc. (even if one ultimately concludes that no cuts were required, how wise is it to blithely promise that much before one has been able to conduct a proper audit of federal spending?). Moreover, it was Abbott who in 2014 abandoned efforts to dilute S18C of the RDA in the interests of some Quixotic goal of uniting all Australians – including Muslim Australians – behind a raft of new anti-terror laws. Once again, conservatives watched in dismay as a putative champion abruptly abandoned another article of (political) faith.

The point of this exercise in recent political history is to suggest that the evacuation of the Liberal Party’s binding philosophy began before many of the internal divisions we have been witnessing came to the fore. Abbott’s uncharacteristic timidity and awkwardness during the debate around S18C is a clear example.

This goes well beyond the events of the previous six months, or even the past five years. As John Roskam, executive director of the Institute for Public Affairs, has pointed out, the Liberal Party has been in a state of ideological flux since the retirement of John Howard after the 2007 election defeat. Writing just after Peter Dutton’s ill-fated attempt to wrest the leadership from Turnbull last August, Roskam observed:

“[It does not] settle the fundamental question the Liberal Party has been grappling with since the retirement of John Howard and Peter Costello. For a decade the Liberal Party has struggled with the question of what should be its philosophy and its principles…”

Roskam went on to correctly note that the Liberal Party has, over the past ten years, embraced a number of economic positions that would make any Keynesian proud (to take just one policy domain). It has increased taxes, expanded the welfare state, and presided over the entrenchment of new and burdensome regulations. Meanwhile, members of the party shy away from several controversial – though nonetheless important – civic debates. The result of this timorousness is two-fold: a now-chronic inability to outline an agenda that can appeal to both intellect and lived experience; and the public’s (understandable) failure to grasp the party’s vision for the country.

In Search of Adequate Leadership

Roskam made an interesting, albeit fleeting, point about the identity crisis with which the Liberal Party has wrestled. It is obvious that the party of the Howard-era was a far more united, far more coherent political body. It was a “broad church”, of course, composed of both social conservatives and small “l” liberals. But with uncanny political nous, as well as an ability to articulate his party’s position in a clear and consistent manner, Howard was able to maintain a degree of institutional and philosophical cohesion – based largely around a shared commitment to economic liberalism – not seen since. Elsewhere, Roskam suggests:

“In simple terms, at the federal level the parliamentary leader of the Liberals sets the party’s philosophical direction and Liberal MPs then follow it.”

Is it a case, then, of faulty leadership? Can the Liberals resolve their painful wrestling by finding an effective “pontiff” who can successfully hold together this broad church, whilst outlining a compelling vision for the country that grounds itself in centre-right principles? Howard achieved this goal with consummate skill as he led the Liberal Party to four consecutive election victories. Whatever one thought of his basic political stance, such leadership is sorely lacking these days. Its absence, and the sense of drift that has ensued, is indelibly linked to the party’s present malaise. The fact that it has now had three leaders since winning office in 2013 – with the third coming to power despite never having explained why his predecessor’s demise was necessary – is perverse evidence of this reality. Although some sporadic efforts towards the construction of a positive agenda have been made, the current leadership of the Liberal Party seems just as diffident as previous iterations. Conversely, a talented leader can draw together the disparate elements of a party in an act of remarkable political alchemy. Roskam’s observation is therefore true in many respects: philosophical cohesion and fidelity to a party’s traditions depend in large part on the quality of the person leading it.

On the other hand, I think Roskam’s dictum may overstate things somewhat, if simplistically applied to today’s context. The political, social, and economic landscape has shifted markedly since John Howard was in office, which I think makes it far more difficult for a centre-right leader to articulate and prosecute his or her party’s agenda. At this point, the Liberal Party is in such a perilous state that it seems incapable of producing anyone who can rise about the intellectual torpor in which it is mired. This isn’t to say that the environment in which the Howard Government found itself was entirely benign; nor am I suggesting that the re-vitalisation of the Liberal Party under a competent leader is impossible. However, it appears that on a number of fundamental questions – questions that go to the heart of what the party stands for – the electorate has either drifted leftward, or fragmented politically in a way that eludes any one party’s control. In such a climate, even the most gifted of leaders is constrained in what he or she can accomplish.

The Economy: A Window into the Liberals’ Woes

Economics, which is so consequential to the Liberal Party’s identity, is a case-in-point. The Global Financial Crisis proved to be something of a watershed in regards to the way a government’s relationship with the economy was conceived. Rightly or wrongly, that catastrophe was attributed by many commentators to the evils of unbridled capitalism – a consequence of the free market’s alleged moral failings. Since then, consecutive governments of both ideological persuasions have adopted an increasingly interventionist approach to economic management. The GFC provided the rationale for the Labor Party to dramatically increase public spending – a trajectory from which its parliamentary opponents have only marginally dissented.

Voters have become habituated to such increases. The notion that government ought to play a relentlessly interventionist role in the economy, or should provide a panoply of income supplements as part of an ever-expanding welfare state (regardless of need), are now axioms of modern Australian life. Note, for instance, the victory of Daniel Andrews’ Victorian Labor government in last November’s election, which was attributed in part to promises of massive infrastructure spending projects. The electorate was impressed by what it saw as an activist government “getting things done”. Unfortunately, such promises carry with them the likelihood of fiscal profligacy – a risk that did not prevent Victorian Labor from notching up a huge win. That win is one sign that the expectation of governmental largesse is now an accepted norm; when such a climate prevails, even the mere suggestion of reform in this domain is a risky prospect. Just look at the discussion around company tax cuts. As current polling data around the reduction of company tax suggests, the public is at best bemused by – and in many instances, quite hostile to – the idea that large businesses should be afforded some relief in this area.

Such scepticism is no longer confined to the progressive side of politics: many on the populist right, for example, hold economic views that are antithetical to a free market philosophy (think One Nation). Though a minority force within Australian politics, right-wing economic nationalism is not negligible. Thus, on the issue of the economy – to say nothing of other urgent questions – the Liberal Party is confronted with a much more malign political landscape. Finally, splits within the party itself reflect what one observes within Australian society-at-large. They manifest themselves in debates around economic philosophy, with some Liberal members calling for a move away from a “dry” approach, in favour of one that is claimed to be more “centrist”. Whether they are genuinely convinced by such notions, or have merely proposed them for the sake of electoral gain isn’t the point; however, a prospective Liberal leader wanting to stake out a distinctive position on (in this case) economics will not only face external hostility, but internal intransigence as well. Fiscal restraint and economic liberalism, meanwhile, continue to dissolve as core tenets of the Liberal Party’s platform. (As an aside, it’s ironic that the Liberals are still castigated for their apparent devotion to a harsh, unsparing economic philosophy, when in so many instances their policy position either mirrors, or merely shifts by degrees, the agenda of the ALP).

What I’m trying to say is that the issues confronting the Liberal Party are institutional and structural. The tectonic changes that Australian society has experienced have made it much harder for a leader of the Liberal Party to offer up an agenda that maintains some fidelity to centre-right principles, whilst also appealing to large swathes of the electorate. The party itself it adrift, having long ago slipped its ideological moorings on the question of the economy; some putative Liberals are being formed by a political culture inimical to liberal economic values, whilst others are advocating an entirely post-ideas approach to political engagement (a meek capitulation if ever there was one). As a consequence, the party faces the reality of at least the partial collapse of a common agenda. This is made all the more acute by a complementary breakdown in a shared conception of authentic centre-right social values, which has now become contested territory.

An Uncertain Outlook

Thus, even if the Liberal Party were to engage in another round of blood-letting – a real possibility if they lose this year’s federal election – there is no guarantee that a leader capable of supplying intellectual ballast could be found, given its parlous state. What’s more, taking the helm of the party now means having to contend with the fact that much of the electorate is either ambivalent towards, or deeply sceptical about, many of the tenets that have traditionally formed the party’s base.

If correct, this means we are left with a sobering conclusion: the absence of clear direction within the Liberal Party (in economics, as in so many things) is not merely symptomatic of political incompetence or a lack of unity, but is a product of the unfavourable historical juncture at which it finds itself. The Liberals must wrestle with the tension of trying to remain a party of (in this case) economic liberalism whilst appealing to an electorate whose mood on that issue has substantially shifted. That tension can be seen in the increasing internal confusion that besets the party, and its faltering efforts to respond to a changing economic landscape. Grappling with deep disagreements over their basic philosophical orientation, the Liberals are now at the mercy of centrifugal forces, both internal and external, that threaten to sunder them entirely.

Herein lies a devilish conundrum. On the one hand, the party of Menzies can choose to bravely unite around a coherent set of values, and hew to those policies that have traditionally formed a core part of its identity. That of course risks an indeterminate period of electoral failure, since the party can no longer rely on a neat dovetailing of economic liberalism and the voting public’s majority sentiments. But on the other hand, if the Liberal Party elects to move (further) away from its natural home on a raft of issues, it only succeeds in raising vital questions concerning its commitment to a distinct, coherent, stable philosophy. Abandoning its governing principles merely for the sake of electoral gain means that it alienates itself from the very thing that supplies its reason for being in the first place. Similarly, if the party seeks advantage by aping the ALP – all the while maintaining a superficial commitment to superior economic management – it merely exposes its own desiccation. Producing a leadership team capable of outlining a credible agenda would form only a partial solution to this dilemma. Given the welter of structural changes over the past decade or so, wholesale reform is beyond the capacity of any one individual. It confronts an uncertain future, regardless of the direction it chooses.

Having said that, the Liberal Party as a whole will probably need to bite the proverbial bullet and re-embrace a principled, centre-right agenda, despite the possible electoral consequences of such a decision. At least on the question of economics, the party will need to be resolute as it tries to persuade a doubting public that relatively free markets, small government, fiscal restraint, strong property rights, and the like, offer the best avenue towards national and personal wealth. This alone is how its identity crisis might be definitively resolved. I’m not saying this will be easy, or that it offers a straightforward path to success. For the time being, at least, I’m fairly certain it won’t. But what other alternative is there, save for a cynical (and so far unsuccessful) attempt to mimic the party’s political opponents? Whether Liberal members are willing to place fealty to principle above such cravenness, however, remains to be seen.

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Wealth and Poverty in the Letter of James

Introduction

The letter of James is famed for its stirring ethical clarity. This is especially true of its teachings on wealth and poverty, which constitute one of the leading concerns of James’ missive. In this essay, I will argue that James provides a coherent ethical view of wealth and poverty for his audience,[1] which undergirds his specific exhortations on the matter. The essay itself will unfold in three (unequal) sections. First, I will exegetically survey the relevant passages in James, parsing his main lines of thought according to three, conceptual categories: the epistle’s notion of eschatological reversal; its prophetic critique of wealth and economic injustice; and its forceful moral entreaties. Second, I will “delve beneath” those initial results and argue that the ethics of the OT and of Jesus have decisively shaped James’ economic teachings. Finally, I shall outline the implications of the aforementioned, particularly in relation to James’ overall theological-ethical agenda. Indeed, it is within this overarching framework that James’ economic counsel must be placed, as he sets out his vision for a people renewed, living in a liminal age.

James’ Teachings

The five main passages on wealth and poverty in James (1:9-11; 1:27; 2:1-7; 2:14-17; 5:1-6) reflect a cohesive programme for how to approach these matters. I have grouped James’ teachings within three inter-related categories, linked by his theocentric outlook: the eschatological reversal of status; prophetic denunciations of the (unrighteous) wealthy; and exhortations towards proper treatment of the destitute. These categories represent different facets of the larger issue of wealth and poverty in James’ epistle, evincing a spirit of social and economic egalitarianism.[2] Moreover, because these threads are woven into James’ controlling narrative, I shall pick them up at the essay’s end.

James’ teachings on wealth and poverty often focus on the eschatological reversal of the fortunes of rich and poor.[3] Indeed, James signals his conviction that present struggles (cf. 1:2-4) – borne out of economic deprivation and/or the exploitation of the poor by the rich[4] – are transitory, subject to God’s ultimate (i.e. eschatological) verdict and purposes.[5] This lies behind his initial exhortations on the matter, in 1:9-11: the Christian in lowly circumstances (“brother”) should exult in his “high position,”[6] whilst the “one who is rich” should focus upon his “low position.”[7] For James, present status and hierarchies will be overturned – reversed – when God’s purposes are fully and finally revealed. Poor believers are to “take pride” in their impending vindication in God’s kingdom, and are encouraged to look beyond their current earthly status (v.9);[8] the rich, on the other hand, are to “boast” in nothing more than the fact that they have been accepted as servants within that same kingdom (v.10-11).[9]

James 1:9-11 effectively argues that God will erase present injustices.[10] Believers should therefore evaluate themselves by spiritual, not material, standards, and orient their lives around God’s final purposes, rather than the present.[11] James underscores the ephemeral nature of riches when he says that the affluent believer may pass away even as he goes about his business (v.11). Life’s impermanence, James implies, should caution against overreliance on material goods for one’s security; thoughts of self-sufficiency, owing to economic security, are anathema (cf. 4:13-16). Significantly, James speaks of one’s future eschatological position as simultaneously present – of a status that is already a reality, even if it awaits final consummation.[12] I will return to the larger issue of this tension at the essay’s end.

Eschatological reversal also surfaces in Jas 2:1-7. There, James castigates his audience for discriminating between people based upon their socio-economic status – an issue that seems to have been very real in the communities to which James wrote, given the space he devotes to the matter.[13] James partly bases his criticisms on the fact that such favouritism is wholly contrary to God’s own special concern for the lowly and downtrodden – demonstrated particularly in the fact that he has “chosen” the poor to inherit his kingdom (v.5).[14] Like 1:9-11, the ethical exhortations in 2:1-7 are partly rooted in God’s eschatological judgments. Because the Creator and Judge has deigned to exalt the poor, any kind of behaviour within the church that mirrors the stratified world around it is sinful. James 2:1-7 also contrasts earthly poverty with spiritual wealth (esp. v.5), implying that worldly status and divine worth do not necessarily coincide. James’ point is clear: not only is it wrong to treat poor brethren so disdainfully, as it is they to whom God directs his mercy; a believer’s present earthly position, whether she be poor or rich, in no way reflects social relationships within God’s kingdom.

James’ denunciations of the wealthy in 5:1-6 reflect similar concerns to 2:6b-7, and demonstrate the relationship between this polemical exposure and James’ belief in the eschatological erasure of status and hierarchy.[15] James 5:1-6 offers a trenchant critique of the rich, tinged with prophetic indignation.[16] His letter speaks not only about the future (though partly realized) upheavals of the present socio-economic order, where misery will befall the unrighteous rich (vv. 1-2, 5); the catalogue of sins listed in 5:1-6 reflects James’ warnings about the present dangers of “unrighteous Mammon”, cohering with passages elsewhere which evince a condemnatory attitude towards materialism and avarice (cf. 4:13-16).[17] Here, wealth’s transience gives way to the testimony of judgment (vv.2-3). Of course, James does not denounce the wealthy qua wealthy. He states precisely why they are liable to judgment: they have acted oppressively and exploited the poor (vv.4-6).[18] But he also criticises them for hoarding their wealth whilst others have suffered penury (v.3b). In any event, James writes convinced that the unrighteous rich will not be able to sin with impunity forever.[19]

As noted, these passages are joined together by an important theological point of orientation for James – the purposes and nature of God. James, for example, can say that the Lord hears the cries of the exploited (5:4c): in a world where they are defenceless, he is their guardian.[20] Rooted in God’s supreme compassion and mercy, Jas 1:27 and 2:14-17 exhort his audience to use wealth and resources righteously – upholding the vulnerable, and supporting those who are materially bereft. For him, the proper stance towards wealth and economic status is imitative of God. James 1:27 explicitly links care for the poor – exemplified via widows and orphans – to unsullied religion acceptable to God.[21] He condemns rapacity (4:2; 5:1ff), whilst commending generosity.[22] James calls the Lord “Father,” subtly suggesting that care for the fatherless recapitulates God’s own paternal largesse (1:27; cf. 1:17). So, too, 2:14-17, where authentic devotion, reflected in the language of “faith,” is expressed via deeds of mercy towards impoverished brethren.[23] Indeed, James’ illustrative choice is telling. One may also cite 2:1-7, which reflects James’ concern about honouring, godly attitudes towards poverty and the poor.

James’ Influences

Whether viewing economics through the lens of eschatology, or urging his audience to use what they have compassionately and justly, James grounds his teachings in God’s character and purposes. However, he did not create this perspective de novo; rather, his economic teachings reflect dependence upon a long and rich tradition, stemming from OT-Jewish thought regarding God’s just and merciful character, and the corresponding obligations placed upon his people.[24] James’ letter builds upon, and grows out of, this consistent biblical theme.

James’ reliance on OT prophetic and wisdom traditions has long been recognized, as has his use of categories of vulnerable people the OT frequently employs (Jas 1:27; cf. Deut 10:18; Ps 68:5).[25] Particularly influential for James’ teachings regarding wealth and poverty, however, is the law. This is clearly seen in 2:1-13, where James condemns partiality in the redeemed communities. He roots his condemnation in an extended application of the law of neighbour love, found in Leviticus 19:18 (cf. Jas 2:8ff), and his teachings reflect a broad dependence on the law’s social concern.[26] An expression of God’s character and will, the law informs James’ economic teachings, especially at this crucial point (cf. 1:27, applying the command to follow the word). Partiality (or selfishness and apathy in the face of poverty) is contrary to the law – and, therefore, contrary to the fundamental image of God as compassionate Father who treats all image-bearers equally.

However, James doesn’t simply allude to OT-Jewish tradition; his letter also echoes the voice of Jesus. For James, God’s attitudes to poverty and wealth – as well as the corresponding obligations of God’s people – are particularized and fulfilled in Jesus (e.g. 2:1).[27] Scholars note the many verbal links between Jesus and James.[28] For our purposes, Jesus’ social and economic teachings are relevant. Contrasts between listening to, and obeying, the word (Jas 1:22/Matt 7:24ff); promises to the poor of a royal inheritance (Jas 2:5/Matt 5:3); denunciation of the wealthy (Jas 5:1-6/Lk 6:24-26); the basic importance of eschatological reversal (Jas 1:9-11/Matt 19:30; 20:16); and, most saliently, the significance of the Levitical law of neighbour love (Jas 2:8/Matt 22:34-40), all suggest Jesus’ overriding influence upon James’ thought. Reference to the “royal law” (Jas 2:8) nuances OT legal codes according to the law of the kingdom (v.5; cf. 1:25), embodied in Jesus.[29] For James, the law – which helps animate his teachings on wealth and poverty – is taken up into the ethics of Jesus, becoming the implanted word that “can save” (1:21).[30] James views the communities to which he writes as the Messianically-renewed people of God (cf. the language of 1:1b),[31] and writes in the light of that reality. Jesus, God’s agent in eschatological restoration, constitutes the defining voice behind James’ economic exhortations and admonitions, shaping them at a deep, structural level.[32]

James’ Controlling Narrative

For James, God’s past revelation and future purposes – effecting justice, denouncing economic oppression and commanding mercy – are drawn together in Jesus’ establishment of a redeemed community, embodying God’s kingly righteousness. This leads us to James’ controlling narrative, tellingly illuminated by 1:18 (with its overtones of new creation):[33] the church is the “first fruits” of God’s redemptive reign.[34] His teachings on wealth and poverty reflect reliance upon this fundamental salvation-historical story.[35] Consequently, James urges his audience to live according to the requirements and implications of the eschatological inauguration of God’s kingdom, anticipating its consummation via a just, compassionate – indeed, counter-cultural – approach to the harsh socio-economic milieu they inhabit.[36]

And so we come full circle, returning to the fruits of our exegetical survey. James’ broader eschatological concerns and context,[37] within which he situates his teachings on wealth and poverty, are clear. Aside from the already-surveyed confluence between eschatology and economics,[38] James’ whole letter brims with eschatological conviction: he consistently invokes divine judgment to motivate right living (2:12; 4:12; 5:7-9), whilst picturing the Christian life as a trajectory moving towards its final goal (1:2-4). Moreover, James’ partly realized (i.e. inaugurated) eschatology suggests that he thinks of his audience as living in a liminal phase – the first of a burgeoning, divinely-ordained future (1:18; cf. 2:5). His audience, having been “birthed” through God’s saving word (v.18), operate as his redemptive vanguard. Through his instructions on wealth and poverty, James implies that the values of the kingdom should be practiced proleptically – offering an “advance model” of what God’s just reign will look like.[39]

Paired with this view is James’ sustained, thematic call to “wholeness,” “completeness” or “perfection.”[40] The audience’s obligation to approach wealth and poverty in the way(s) he urges are part of a complex of behaviours by which believers, both individually and communally,[41] demonstrate their devotion towards God and each other. James seeks to encourage economic behaviour that is oriented towards God’s present injunctions and his future rule. His letter is replete with terms that reflect this constellation of thought,[42] and it carries concern for ethical completeness (and within that, a godly approach to economics) in a number of ways: commendation of “pure religion” (1:27); a “whole” faith, manifested in good deeds; endurance towards one’s spiritual telos or goal (1:2-4); criticism of the “double-minded” (1:7-8); and, in a crucial passage, the excoriation of spiritual “adulterers” and encouragement towards purity (4:1-10). James urges unity within Christian assemblies (cf. 2:1-7), which coheres with the complete devotion and spiritual wholeness to which he enjoins individuals.[43] He repeatedly envisages eschatological “wholeness” as a present requirement; by calling them to live in an “undivided” manner – to which acting righteously in regards to wealth and poverty provides powerful attestation[44] – James instructs his audience to anticipate the ultimate perfection that a just and compassionate God will bring (cf. 2:5).

Conclusion

The foregoing analysis has attempted to provide a summation of the main facets of James’ teachings on wealth and poverty. His letter features several, related concerns that are especially prominent: the eschatological reversal of socio-economic status/hierarchy; the prophetic exposure of economic unrighteousness and oppression; and the corresponding regard for those who are impoverished and/or vulnerable. James evinces basic sympathy towards the victims of present injustices, grounding it in God’s nature and purposes, and the corresponding ethical implications for his people. James relies upon the consistent witness of the OT regarding treatment of the poor, evidenced in his use of the law to condemn practices contrary to God’s fundamental character. That character is, for James, exhibited in Jesus, the decisive voice in the letter’s economic-ethical teachings. These findings suggest that James’ instructions on wealth and poverty are situated within a controlling narrative, one which sees Jesus as the inaugurator of God’s (partly realized) eschatological kingdom. James writes to his audience as the “first fruits” of that inauguration, urging them to embody God’s perfect rule through economic justice and generous stewardship.

Bibliography

Bauckham, Richard. James. New Testament Readings. London: Routledge, 1999.

————————-. “Eschatology.” Pages 333-339 in New Bible Dictionary (Third Edition). Edited by I.H. Marshall, A.R. Millard, J.I. Packer & D.J. Wiseman. Downers Grove: Intervarsity Press, 2011.

Beale, Greg K. “Eschatology”. Pages 330-345 in Dictionary of the Later New Testament and its Developments. Edited by Ralph P Martin and Peter H. Davids. Downers Grove: Intervarsity Press, 1997.

Blomberg, Craig L. From Pentecost to Patmos – Acts to Revelation. Volume Two: New Testament Survey. Nottingham: Apollos, 2006.

Carson, D.A. “James,” Pages 997-1013 in Commentary on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament. Edited by G.K. Beale and D.A. Carson. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007.

Davids, Peter. Commentary on James. New International Greek Testament Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982.

Johnson, Luke T. The Letter of James – A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. 1 vol.; Anchor Bible 37A; Garden City: Doubleday, 1995.

————————. Brother of Jesus, Friend of God – Studies in the Letter of James. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004.

————————. Sharing Possessions – What Faith Demands, Second Edition. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011.

Lemcio, E.E. “The Unifying Kerygma of the New Testament.” Journal for the Study of the New Testament 33 (1988): 3-17.

McCartney, Dan G. James. Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2009.

Martin, Ralph P. James. Word Biblical Commentary 48. Waco: Word, 1988.

Maynard-Reid, Pedrito U. Poverty and Wealth in James. Maryknoll: Orbis, 1987.

Moo, Douglas. James. Pillar New Testament Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000.

Ross, Allan P. Holiness to the LORD – A Guide to the Exposition of the Book of Leviticus. Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2002.

Wachob, Wesley Hiram. The Voice of Jesus in the Social Rhetoric of James (Studies in the New Testament Series 106. Cambridge: CUP, 2000.

Wall, Robert. “James, Letter of.” Pages 545-561 in Dictionary of the Later New Testament and its Developments. Edited by Ralph P. Martin and Peter H. Davids. Downers Grove: Intervarsity Press, 1997.

Williams, Robert Lee. “Piety and Poverty in James.” Wesleyan Theological Journal 22 (Fall, 1987): 37-55.

Winbery, Carlton L. “The Attitude Toward Wealth in the Letter of James.” Theological Educator 34 (Fall, 1986): 26-34.

Witherington III, Ben. The Indelible Image: The Theological and Ethical Thought-World of the New Testament. Volume 1 – The Individual Witnesses. Downers Grove: Inter-varsity Press, 2009.

[1] See Douglas Moo, James (PNTC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), 22-24; Craig L. Blomberg, From Pentecost to Patmos – Acts to Revelation. New Testament Introduction and Survey, Volume 2 (Nottingham: Apollos, 2006), 390, for similar reconstructions of the identity of James’ audience.

[2] Luke T. Johnson, The Letter of James – A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (1 vol.; AB 37A; Garden City: Doubleday, 1995), 82.

[3] Ralph P. Martin, James (WBC 48; Waco: Word, 1988), 25-26; Dan G. McCartney, James (BECNT; Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2009), 70-71.

[4] Moo, James, 65. On the socio-economic conditions of the first century, see Pedrito U. Maynard-Reid, Poverty and Wealth in James (Maryknoll: Orbis, 1987), 12-23.

[5] On eschatology and the later NT (and James esp.), see Greg K. Beale, “Eschatology,” DLNTD, 330-333, 335; Richard Bauckham, “Eschatology,” NBD, 333-334.

[6] Carlton L. Winbery, “The Attitude Toward Wealth in the Letter of James,” TE 34 (Fall, 1986): 28.

[7] Moo, James, 68, argues that the rich person is a Christian; cf. Martin, James, 25-26. I agree with Moo that the term “brother” (v.9) governs both individuals.

[8] Robert Lee Williams, “Piety and Poverty in James,” WTJ 22 (Fall, 1987): 43.

[9] Winbery, “The Attitude,” 29; Moo, James, 66.

[10] Winbery, “The Attitude,” 28.

[11] McCartney, James, 98.

[12] Martin, James, 25, 28; Johnson, The Letter of James, 185; Moo, James, 30.

[13] Moo, James, 98.

[14] Moo, James, 35.

[15] Winbery, “The Attitude,” 31-32.

[16] Moo, James, 211.

[17] McCartney, James, 232.

[18] Moo, James, 210.

[19] Johnson, The Letter of James, 309.

[20] Moo, James, 216.

[21] Martin, James, 52.

[22] Johnson, Sharing Possessions – What Faith Demands, Second Edition (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011), 92.

[23] Martin, James, 52.

[24] See Moo, James, 35-36 for a discussion of this general theological-ethical trend; cf. Peter Davids, Commentary on James (NIGTC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982), 42.

[25] See D.A. Carson, “James” CNTOT, 997-1013. On the influence of wisdom and prophecy, see Johnson, The Letter of James, 32-34.

[26] See Johnson, The Letter of James, 30-32; Johnson, Brother of Jesus, Friend of God – Studies in the Letter of James (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004), 127-135; Carson, “James,” 999-1000. On Leviticus 19, see Allen P. Ross, Holiness to the LORD – A Guide to the Exposition of the Book of Leviticus (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2002), 351-365.

[27] The consequential relationship between faith in Jesus and rejection of partiality is clear. See Wesley Hiram Wachob, The Voice of Jesus in the Social Rhetoric of James (SNTS 106; Cambridge: CUP, 2000), 77.

[28] See esp. Ben Witherington III, The Indelible Image: The Theological and Ethical Thought-World of the New Testament. Volume 1 – The Individual Witnesses (Downers Grove: Inter-varsity Press, 2009), 298; Wachob, The Social Rhetoric, 138.  

[29] Moo, James, 98, 112; Carson, “James,” 1000.

[30] McCartney, James, 110.

[31] The language suggests that James sees his audience as the renewed “Israel” of God. See Davids, Commentary, 63.

[32] Bauckham, James (NTR; London: Routledge, 1999), 147.

[33] McCartney, James, 111.

[34] Moo, James, 24, 80.

[35] On the unifying story of the NT, see E.E. Lemcio, “The Unifying Kerygma of the New Testament,” JSNT 33 (1988), 6.

[36] On the narrative cast of James’ letter, see Robert Wall, “James, Letter of,” DLNTD, 556-557; Bauckham, James, 100; Winbery, “The Attitude,” 33; Johnson, The Letter, 85-88.

[37] McCartney, James, 70-71.

[38] Cf. Moo, James, 36-37.

[39] Bauckham, James, 173; Moo, James, 24.

[40] See Bauckham, James, 165, 173-179, for an extended treatment; Martin, James, lxxix.

[41] McCartney, James, 71-72.

[42] See esp. Martin, James, lxxix.

[43] McCartney, James, 71-72.

[44] Moo, James, 97-98.