Everyone Matters. So Why Do We Play Favorites?

Most of us would say that every person matters. We believe people are created in God's image. We wouldn't announce that someone with more money belongs at the cool kids' table while everyone else should find a place on the floor.

But James asks an uncomfortable question: do our actions sometimes say what our mouths never would?

Who gets our attention when they walk into a room? The successful person? The outgoing person? The person who could help us accomplish something? And who can disappear without anyone noticing? James 2:1-13 brings those questions into the life of the church. What we believe about Jesus ought to change how we see people.

Who Gets the Good Seat?

James describes two people entering a gathering. One wears a gold ring and fine clothes. The other is poor and wears shabby clothing. The well-dressed person gets special attention and a good seat. The poor person is told to stand or sit on the floor.

The problem isn't that someone noticed their clothes. It's that clothing became a measure of worth. The welcome changed according to what people appeared to have.

We know how status works. First class and coach. VIP treatment. The important person everyone hopes to meet. We can become impressed with someone's success before we've asked anything about their character. A person makes a lot of money, and suddenly we assume they must have wisdom about everything else, too. Money is not the same thing as maturity.

James begins by pointing to our glorious Lord Jesus Christ. Jesus deserves the glory. Following him leaves no room for turning wealth, influence, or usefulness into a ranking system for people.

People Are Not Resources

I feel the tension of this as a pastor. Churches need people to serve. We need leadership, generosity, and practical help. We can't do everything alone. When someone can help set up, fill a needed role, or provide resources for ministry, it's easy to become especially interested.

None of those needs is wrong. But a person who is sick, struggling financially, or barely holding life together may not be able to offer any of those things. They may need a season of simply receiving care. Their place among us cannot depend on what they contribute.

Early in ministry, I decided not to know who gives or how much they give. I don't trust myself enough to assume that information could never affect how I treat someone.

Once, someone told me they were leaving the church and said, "We're treated just like everyone else." At first, I took that as a concern that I hadn't made them feel personally cared for. That matters. Whoever is in front of me deserves my attention, and I need to take my shortcomings seriously.

Then giving dropped by about 25 percent the following month. When I asked about it in a council meeting, I learned that the couple had been significant givers. I hadn't known.

That experience reminded me why I'd made the decision. I want to care for someone because they are a person God loves, not because I know what their giving means for our budget. People are not resources. People are people.

Success Doesn't Tell You Someone's Heart

In James 2:5-7, James challenges a community that has dishonored the poor while honoring the wealthy. Some of the very people receiving their admiration were using power to exploit them. Why automatically equate wealth with honor when you can see how that power is being used?

James's words do not mean every wealthy person is wicked or every poor person is righteous. Some of the most generous people I know are respected in business. The issue is what we allow to impress us and whether it blinds us to someone else's dignity.

Scripture repeatedly challenges our assumptions about importance. When Samuel came to anoint a king, David wasn't even among the sons his father initially presented. In 1 Samuel 16, God tells Samuel that people look at outward appearance while the Lord looks at the heart. David's later failures don't erase that lesson.

And consider Jesus: the Son of God, born in humble circumstances and laid in a manger. His arrival wasn't the royal entrance people might have arranged. We need to be careful about assuming God's favor looks like the success our culture celebrates.

Love Changes the Welcome

James brings the argument back to the command to love your neighbor as yourself. In James 2:8-9, he calls this the royal law and directly names favoritism as sin. He quotes Leviticus 19:18; earlier in that same chapter, verse 15 forbids partiality toward either the poor or the powerful in judgment. Loving people includes treating them fairly.

That love reaches beyond warm feelings. If I were the person who looked out of place, how would I want to be received? With dignity. And if I were wealthy, I'd want people to be glad to know me, rather than simply interested in what they could get from me.

It's a little like walking into a car dealership. Someone may be very friendly, but I understand that they're also hoping to sell me a car. Church should offer something different: a welcome that doesn't come with an assessment of my usefulness.

Favoritism can feel surprisingly respectable. We recognize the big, ugly sins, yet giving extra attention to someone influential can seem like common sense. James won't let us make that exception. In verses 10-11, he explains that obeying other commands doesn't excuse breaking this one. He isn't saying every sin has identical consequences. He is challenging our habit of choosing which of God's commands deserve our obedience.

Who Gets Your Attention-and Why?

James ends this section by telling us to speak and act as people who will be judged by the law that gives freedom. Then comes the warning about judgment without mercy, followed by this remarkable line: "Mercy triumphs over judgment" (James 2:13).

Before we start making judgments about another person's worth, we need to remember how much we depend on God's mercy ourselves. We don't know someone's whole story when they walk through the door. Mercy makes room for dignity and compassion before we've filled in the blanks with assumptions.

That doesn't require ignoring sin, abandoning discernment, or pretending every choice is good. It also doesn't mean everyone must receive exactly the same amount of our time. We have responsibilities to family, friends, work, and the people entrusted to our care. Healthy boundaries are real. Different responsibilities do not mean different worth.

So notice the small decisions. Do you lean in when someone sounds successful? Do you look for an exit when someone is struggling? Does a new person become more interesting once you discover they play the drums and you need a drummer?

Choose one person you might otherwise overlook. Learn their name. Ask a question and listen to the answer without turning the conversation toward what they could do for you. We have all needed mercy. Let that mercy shape the way someone experiences our attention.