Acorns and Oaks--February 4, 2022
"Do you want to be shown, you senseless person, that faith apart from works is barren? What not our ancestor Abraham justified by works when he offered his son Isaac on the altar? You see that faith was active along with his works, and faith was brought to completion by the works. Thus the scripture was fulfilled that says, 'Abraham believed God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness,' and he was called the friend of God." [James 2:20-23]
Let's talk about oak trees for a minute.
You can spot an oak tree by its leaves, or you might recognize a certain profile that oaks present among the other trees of the forest. You might be able to spot oak lumber in contrast to pine, walnut, or poplar, by its strength, its heft, and its color. And you would know that an acorn doesn't have any of those characteristic traits--no leaves, no height, no wood grain. Very clearly, you could see that an acorn is not an oak tree.
But of course, you also know better about how oaks are made. You know that while an acorn isn't a tree (yet), it is, at least biologically speaking, oak, rather than maple, pine, or poplar. You know that there is a zero-percent chance that an acorn will become an apple tree or a birch tree or a flamingo. It carries already inside it oak DNA, with the very same the genetic fingerprints of a mature, full-grown fifty-foot tall tree. And that "oak-ness" is not anything it earns, achieves, or accomplishes. Very clearly, a scientist can tell you that an acorn is an oak--at least as opposed to being a banana, a birch, or a beaver.
At first blush, that seems paradoxical: which is true? Does an acorn "count" as an oak or not? You almost have to be able to see from the vantage point of the flow of time to give a meaningful answer. Yes, an acorn has all the biological and genetic requirements to make it an oak. But an acorn is just a seed, and the "point" of being a seed is to grow into a fully matured tree, one which makes new acorns that, in turn, grow up to be other oak trees. An acorn by itself, frozen in time as just an acorn isn't a tree--it's a snack for squirrels. But by growing into a tree, that acorn has only taken the identity it already had in seed-form and let it come to full expression. You can't sit under the shade of an acorn or build a chest of drawers out of it, but at the very same time an acorn already possesses all the "oak-ness" there is to have in the universe, coded in every cell of the seed in its DNA.
I think we need to consider James' take on the biblical story of Abraham in much the same way, because James isn't the only New Testament writer to use Abraham's life as a case study. Saint Paul (who is often seen as writing in opposition to James' perspective) says that Abraham was in fact justified by faith alone apart from anything he had done, since, as Paul will also quote, "he believed God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness." Paul spends quite a lot of time in both Romans and Galatians making the case that God wasn't impressed with anything Abraham could do, and that God's promise and blessing were given to old Abe before he did a single thing for God. Paul would say Abraham is right with God even as an acorn--before he did anything to grow into a mighty tree.
James, however, sees things from the vantage point of completion--of the goal, the purpose, or the culmination of our lives with God. And just as it seems an awful shame to freeze an acorn in time and keep it from ever growing into a sturdy oak, it seems somehow wrong to leave our faith as just an exercise in our heads. In a way, you don't really know that you trust someone until you are asked to rely on them in concrete terms--otherwise, you've just got a hypothetical mental exercise or a thought experiment. You can say you trust someone or something, and as long as you don't have to act in light of that supposed trust, nobody would ever know it was real. James says the same with Abraham--there is certainly plenty of potential when we first meet him in the Bible, but Abraham's trust in God is really only evident when he acts in light of that faith. He goes where God leads him, even at the cost of leaving behind his old life, prospects, and family. He risks his son, even being willing to head up the mountain of sacrifice without understanding how God will make this situation work out. James says that's how you know that Abraham's trust in God is real--because anybody can just mouth the words, "I trust God," but when you risk your future on your choices made on the basis of that faith, you've know there's something real there.
When we read Paul, we are getting the acorn perspective: the acorn already has complete "oak-ness" as a given--it's there in acorn's own DNA from before it falls to the ground from its parent tree. It's "oakness" is not something it achieves, but is given to it. Our usual word for things like that is grace.
When we read James, we are getting the perspective of a sturdy oak: an acorn isn't meant to remain a seed, but is intended to express the "oakness" in its DNA by becoming a tree. Tall, short, medium, doesn't matter. Standing for a century or harvested to become a bench, or making a home for birds in its branches and creatures in its hollow--all of these are possible outcomes. But they are all part of expressing the fullness of being an oak tree, which is what acorns are "meant" for, to put it that way. The identity that is present but invisible to the naked eye in DNA is meant to be expressed--"brought to completion," as James would say--in actual, real-world tree-ness, growing up out of the ground with leaves and bark and branches and, yes, more acorns. And curiously enough, a good word for what happens when we grow into what we were meant to be is, once again, grace.
Casting James and Paul as biblical Rock'em-Sock'em-Robots, punching back and forth about whether we are saved by belief or doing enough good deeds is a caricature of both. They are really looking at the same reality from different points in the timeline. Paul is right that we have been given a gift before we've done a thing, and that gift gives us a new identity in God. And James is right that there is an intended purpose for that gift, so that we grow to maturity in ways that our life in Christ takes shape in our bodies, our actions, our choices, and our practices.
We church folk have spent so much time and energy trying to argue which one of these two is right, rather than letting both speak to us and to hold their voices in a creative tension. We are all acorns, already given a new identity in Christ. And we are all on our way to becoming oaks, not with a worry that if we don't do "enough" we won't get into heaven, but because it is a damn shame to have stunted our growth and never send out a green leaf. How will we, like an acorn expressing the "oakness" in its DNA in its physical growth, leaves, and trunk, embody our identity in Christ today in our lives, choices, and actions? Don't worry about doing "enough" or how you compare to anybody else--instead, let what God says about you shape how you speak, act, and love.
You and I are acorns on our way to being oaks. That's enough for today.
Lord Jesus, bring us to completion, to fullness, to what you intend to make of us--what you have begun in us already, even now.
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