Just Do It
Scripture Reading: James 1:17-27
“Just do it.” I’m sure you’re familiar with the phrase, which has been associated with Nike footwear and apparel since the late 1980s. The line had inauspicious beginnings though. The man who came up with it, an advertising executive named Dan Wieden, drew inspiration from the last words of a convicted murderer, who just moments before his execution reportedly said, “Let’s do it.” Wieden simply changed the word “Let’s” to “Just” and thus was born a now legendary slogan that Nike still uses to this day.
The very first commercial to use the line, which you can find on YouTube, featured an 80-year old runner named Walt Stack jogging across the Golden Gate Bridge shirtless. “I run 17 miles every morning,” he says between breaths, a smile spreading across his face like the sunrise. “People ask me how I keep my teeth from chattering in the wintertime.” The camera then pans down to showcase his running shoes and to allow space for the punchline. “I leave them in my locker,” he says, continuing his run off camera. The screen then goes black, and in simple white lettering across a black background appear the words “Just do it.”
The implication is clear. If this 80-year old man can jog 17 miles every day, what’s keeping you from getting off the sofa and going for a run or even a walk, or from hopping on your bike, or from hitting the basketball court or the tennis court, or whatever your activity of choice may be? Buy a pair of Nikes and just do it.
Just do it. That phrase resonated with the public, with professional athletes and weekend warriors alike, and Nike’s market share more than doubled over the next ten years. I can see why. “Just do it” is a take-no-prisoners, make-no-excuses call to action. It’s simple. Its direct. It’s powerful. It’s a command and an invitation. Don’t talk about it, just do it.
I think about this famous phrase whenever I read the Letter of James because in it James tells his readers to be doers of the word and not merely hearers. Just do it, James seems to be saying, some 2,000 years before Nike used those same words to sell shoes.
This is our first foray into the Letter of James. James is a letter much beloved in some Christian circles, especially among Catholics, for its emphasis on the Christian’s duty to do good works. And it is for this reason that the letter is much reviled in some Protestant circles, especially among hardcore Calvinists, including some serious-minded Presbyterians, who find its emphasis on doing good works contrary to the doctrine of grace. Martin Luther, the German Catholic priest who sparked the fire that became the Protestant Reformation, famously called James an “epistle of straw” because he deemed it worthless. If Luther had the authority, he would have excised the Letter of James from the Bible entirely.
However, as a fellow former Catholic who became Protestant, I confess that I have always liked this letter, and if properly understood, I don’t find it at all contrary to the doctrine of grace—a grace that does for us what we, despite all our good works, cannot do for ourselves.
But before diving in, let’s first get our bearings. There are several men named “James” in the New Testament, including two of the twelve disciples. But the James whose name is on this letter is neither of them. Rather, tradition ascribes this letter to James the brother of Jesus, who appears in the Acts of the Apostles and who was a leader of the church in Jerusalem, along with Peter.
Now, whether Jesus had a biological brother is another point of contention between Catholics and Protestants. Catholics would argue that Mary remained a perpetual virgin and any scriptural reference to Jesus’ brothers or sisters should be understood as “cousins.” Protestants, who don’t assert that Mary remained a virgin, would argue that words mean what they mean. Whoever the author is, he refers to himself simply as James, “a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ” (James 1:1).
Adding to the mystery, unlike most of Paul’s letters, the Letter of James is not addressed to a specific church nor does it address a particular issue within the church. The letter is much more general, being addressed “to the twelve tribes in the Dispersion” (James 1:1). Right away, with its mention of the twelve tribes, you get a sense that this letter has a very Jewish flavor.
That’s also clear in the favorable way in which James speaks of the Jewish moral law. Whereas Paul writes about the law mostly in negative terms—as something that has the power only to condemn but not to save—James uses phrases like “the perfect law” and “the law of liberty.” For James, the law is not powerless but perfect. It does not bind, it liberates.
“The law of liberty” is such an interesting turn of phrase. We tend to think of the law as restrictive, in that it restricts us from doing certain things. Think of all the “thou shalt not” commands in the Ten Commandments: Thou shalt not murder; thou shalt not commit adultery; thou shalt not steal.
Or we think of the law as compelling us to do certain things: Thou shalt keep the Sabbath holy; thou shalt honor your father and mother. Or going all the way back to the foundational command that God gives to Israel: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.
In either case, we certainly don’t associate the law with liberty. As Americans, we think of liberty as unrestricted freedom. Liberty means that I am free to do as I please. “Nobody tells me what to do.” Liberty is precious to us. It’s one of our founding principles enshrined in the Declaration of Independence. We fought a war with England over our right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. There’s even a giant statue 40 miles south of here personifying liberty in the form of a woman holding a torch. It’s called the statue of something or other.
But in using the word “liberty” James has something very different in mind. For James, liberty is not about freedom from something—restraints or restrictions—but freedom for something—namely, our neighbor. The law of liberty frees us for our neighbor, making us quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger. Imagine that!
For James, liberty is not about freedom from something—restraints or restrictions—but freedom for something—namely, our neighbor.
In our society these are revolutionary principles! Everywhere we turn we are asked to speak and to give our opinion. My email trash folder is filled with requests to fill out surveys rating my experience with this or that product or service. Avelo Airlines, which I flew to Nashville, wants to know how they did. Ring wants to know what I think of my new Battery Doorbell Plus. Several of the podcasts that I listen to ask listeners to rate the podcast on Apple Podcasts or Spotify. If I were so inclined, I could fill my day with filling out surveys.
Technology makes it easier than ever to have our voice heard, but if everyone is speaking, who’s listening? Listening is not often celebrated. There are no famous listeners. There are no blue-checkmark Tweeters or Instagram influencers encouraging us to put down our microphone and listen to our neighbor.
I want you to hear this correctly. When James writes, “Let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger,” he is not issuing a command. This is not another “Thou shalt” or “Thou shalt not” command. What James is offering is not prescriptive but rather descriptive. He is not prescribing for us what we need to do as Christians. He is describing for us what Christians do. There is a difference. One is checking off a box; the other is a way of being in the world.
To listen to another—be it a family member, a church member, a friend, an enemy, a neighbor, or a stranger—is an act of generosity. It is a gift. In listening to another, we are giving our time and our attention. And this passage begins with James writing that “Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above.” Which is to say that it comes from God, “the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.”
Technology makes it easier than ever to have our voice heard, but if everyone is speaking, who’s listening?
And this unchanging God has an unchanging purpose, and that is to be for us no matter what. “In fulfillment of [God’s] own purpose,” James writes, “he gave birth to us by the word of truth.” That word is Jesus Christ.
The Christian is one who welcomes with meekness, which is to say, with humility, “the implanted word that has the power to save souls.” The good works that we do are not even wholly ours, James is saying. They are Christ, the implanted word, growing within us like a seed that sprouts and develops and bears fruit. Continuing the metaphor, James writes that we are “a kind of first fruits of his creatures.”
In the Old Testament, the first fruits of the harvest were set aside and devoted to the Lord. The priest would make of them a sacrifice in the temple. But James is taking this image from the Old Testament and interpreting it in a new and really rather remarkable way. We are now the first fruits. The word of God is implanted in us, sprouting and growing and transforming us into the first fruits, into disciples of Jesus Christ. It is we who are dedicated to the Lord and who, to borrow a phrase from Paul, become a living sacrifice.
It is Christ within us who empowers us to be doers of the word in service to our neighbor. That is, the good works we do are done not to please or placate an angry or judgmental God. Nor are they done to accrue enough credits to earn God’s favor. If that were the case, we’d be doing them for ourselves. Rather, our good works are done to serve our neighbor, for that is who needs them.
To end, I’m going to bring it back to Luther, who I mentioned earlier referred to the Letter of James as “an epistle of straw.” Among his other pithy sayings was that God doesn’t need our good works, our neighbor does. And so, being not hearers who forget the word but doers who act upon it…just do it.