I write about Stuff

“He was buried, and he was raised from the dead on the third day, just as the Scriptures said. He was seen by Peter and then by the Twelve. After that, he was seen by more than 500 of his followers at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have died. Then he was seen by James and later by all the apostles.” —1 Corinthians 15:4–7

There is something profoundly tender in the way Scripture records the appearances of the risen Christ. He appears to Peter, to the disciples, to crowds, and then — almost quietly — to James. Not James the apostle, but James His brother. The one who grew up beside Him. The one who shared a home, a table, a childhood. The one who, for decades, refused to believe.

James is a fascinating figure in the New Testament because he reminds us that proximity to Jesus does not automatically produce faith. He lived in the same household as the Son of God, yet his heart remained closed for years. He saw Jesus’ character up close — the sinless life, the kindness, the obedience, the purity — and still he did not believe. It is a sobering reminder that faith is not inherited, absorbed, or automatic. It is a work of the Spirit in the human heart.

Scripture gives us only glimpses of Jesus’ early years. We know of His visit to the temple at age twelve, where His understanding astonished the teachers. Beyond that, the Gospels are silent. We do not know what He was like as a boy, or how He interacted with His siblings. We can imagine the perfection of His character, but we cannot know how it felt for James to grow up beside someone who never sinned. Did James notice? Did he wonder? Did he feel overshadowed? Or did he simply assume Jesus was unusually good?

What we do know is this: James did not believe Jesus was the Messiah. Not as a child. Not as a young man. Not even when Jesus began His public ministry. John 7 tells us that Jesus’ brothers urged Him to perform miracles publicly, almost taunting Him. Their words sound supportive, but Scripture clarifies the truth: “For even his brothers didn’t believe in him.” James had heard the teachings. He had seen or heard about the miracles. He had watched crowds follow Jesus. Yet his heart remained hard.

Hard-heartedness is not always loud or dramatic. Sometimes it is quiet, steady resistance — a refusal to surrender, a reluctance to trust, a determination to stay in control. James had all the evidence he needed, yet he held back. He was not unlike Thomas, who famously declared he would not believe unless he touched the wounds himself. James, too, needed something personal, something undeniable.

And Jesus, in His mercy, gave it to him.

Paul tells us that after the resurrection, Jesus appeared to James. We are not told what Jesus said or how the moment unfolded. Scripture leaves the details in holy silence. But we know the result: James believed. The brother who once doubted became a pillar of the early church. The man who resisted for decades became a leader, a pastor, a writer of Scripture. His heart, once hard, became soft in the presence of the risen Christ.

This is the hope woven through the story: no heart is beyond God’s reach.

We all know people like James — people close to us, people we love, people who have heard the truth yet remain unmoved. Sometimes the hardest hearts belong to those who know us best. They remember our past mistakes. They know our flaws. They question our sincerity. They may dismiss our testimony because they have seen us at our worst. And it can be discouraging. We pray, we share, we hope — and still they resist.

But James’ story reminds us that God is always at work beneath the surface. What looks like stubbornness may be fear. What looks like indifference may be confusion. What looks like rejection may simply be a heart not yet ready. And the moment of softening — the tipping point — may come when we least expect it.

Our role is not to force belief but to remain faithful. To pray. To love. To live out the gospel with humility and consistency. To trust that Jesus knows exactly how to reach the ones we cannot reach ourselves.

If you carry someone on your heart today — a spouse, a child, a parent, a sibling, a friend — take courage. James’ story is a reminder that God specializes in softening hearts. He knows how to meet each person in the way they need most. And He is far more patient, persistent, and compassionate than we could ever be.

Keep praying. Keep believing. Keep loving.

The risen Christ is still appearing to hardened hearts — and He is still bringing them home.