‘Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit”— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.’
James 4:13-14
There is a subtle kind of idolatry that infects the contemporary church.
It is the idolatry of purpose. It is difficult to spot, for it manifests in words and ideas that both feel good and appear biblical. The language that wraps around it sounds like faith and risk, optimism and adventure, and much preaching subtly plays its tune to our souls.
It is powerful, for, as all powerful idolatries do, it appeals to deep desires of our created nature. It appeals to our desires for purpose, for significance, for impact, for doing, that were inscribed into us at the creation:
Be fruitful and multiply.
Fill the earth and subdue it.1
And yet, any good thing can become an idol in us if it becomes an ultimate thing. Be it money, possessions, power, sex, credentials or achievements—good things can become toxic to the soul when they become greater to us than our basic surrender to God. Idolatry is a problem of priority—where a good thing becomes seen as central to the fulfilment of our soul. Bring this into a world of self-actualisation, self-fulfilment, and a tendency to try to find a spirituality that will help me to accomplish my goals, and the desire for finding our true fulfilment through our purpose can come take a place of poisonous primacy in our hearts. We end up chasing platform and credentials, accolades and success, money and status and awards to fill the void in our hungry hearts.
James critiques something today that seems, at a first reading, to be fairly innocuous.
Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and … trade and make profit.”
Why does James critique this? What is so wrong with such a plan? What is wrong with travelling? Or with trading? Or with making a profit?
The reason is found in none of these things, for James reveals his reasoning in the following words:
For you are a mist…
The problem, James is saying, in such plans, is not found in having purpose. Far from it. Rather, it is found in a perspective on life that has exaggerated what is temporary at the expense of what is eternal. The eyes of the disciple that are excessively focused upon current impact, current success, current travel, or current profit margins, are fixed upon that which is as temporary as a mist. The problem is not that these individuals have purpose, but rather that their purpose has become exaggerated to them to the extent that they have lost perspective of where and how they fit in eternity.
Friends, this is subtle, for truly to walk with God is to walk with purpose, and He delights in His children creating that which is beautiful and good. Rather, this is a question of motive, for it requires the examination of our hearts and the questioning of what is truly driving us. And it invites us to bring our very vocation—like Abraham—to the altar to offer it back to God.2
So then, how should we live?
James tells us:
If the Lord wills.
Surrender. Surrender our plans and ambitions daily to Him. Do not let the wounded desire for fulfilment through earthly accolades become the guiding motive of your heart. Seek perspective. Do not hold Him to ransom when He has not yet done through you want you wanted Him to. Hold yourself seriously. For the invitation to view the misty nature of your life is not there to put you down, but to liberate you from the insecurity and stress of attempting a phoney significance through the misty attainments of our careers.
Build, create, love, serve, and do. And yet, my friends, let go. Surrender your plans to the will of the Lord. For in such a way, we establish our hearts.
Reflect:
What plans do you have for your career.
Bring them to the Lord. Let go. Release them to His will. And recall that your most glorious purpose will only be fulfilled in the endless creativity of eternity, of which our every effort in these moments is but a tiny foretaste.
Pray:
Father,
I let go,
And I take hold.
I let go of the clutching anxiety
That would try and force significance
Through attainment, platform, overwork, and wealth.
I let go of the lie
That my value is dictated by
My resumé
And that my value is measured by
My reputation.
Father, lift such weights from this soul,
And liberate me from my idolatries.
For instead,
I take hold:
I take hold of the purposes that You desire in my life;
I want to walk my days with you—
In hiddenness or visibility,
Treading both in the perfect liberty
Of Your love,
And accomplished with eternity eyes.
In Jesus’ Name,
Amen
Old Testament:
For those also reading the Old Testament this year, your additional readings are here:
Ezekiel 38-39 | Proverbs 28:8-16
Genesis 1:28
Timothy Keller stunningly unpacked this dynamic of God’s instruction to Abraham to sacrifice Isaac, in his book Counterfeit Gods. I commend it to you.