Harvesting a good crop

"Musick hath Charms to soothe a savage Breast, 
To soften Rocks, or bend a knotted Oak."

“But the wisdom that comes from heaven is pure. That’s the most important thing about it. And that’s not all. It also loves peace. It thinks about others. It obeys. It is full of mercy and good fruit. It is fair. It doesn’t pretend to be what it is not. Those who make peace plant it like a seed. They will harvest a crop of right living.”
(James 3:17-18, NIV)

James’ recipe for achieving “right living” is no real recipe at all. It’s the fruit that grows out of the peace-making act and the peace-making act follows from embracing “heavenly wisdom.” James’ definition of “right living” here reads like a gentle, rippling brook, particularly since so much of his epistle seems harsh, almost angry, a grandpa shouting at children to behave. Only a few verses back (verse 6, exactly) he says, “The tongue is the most evil part of the body. It makes the whole body impure. It sets a person’s whole way of life on fire. And the tongue itself is set on fire by hell.”


James writes in black and white a lot. Chapter 3 contrasts the wisdom of earth with the wisdom from above, the former producing foul-mouthed ne’er-do-wells and the latter, people who live right, who love peace and mercy. People who write and speak like that invite criticism, often from both the “black” side and the “white” side. Martin Luther is supposed to have called it, an “epistle of straw,” because, as he is quoted as having written: “. . . St. James’ epistle is really an epistle of straw, compared to these others, for it has nothing of the nature of the gospel about it.”

I disagree. Luther’s concern was that James’ epistle would tend to downplay salvation as a gift of grace, full stop, and that James is implying that “works and right living” are key. The “behave yourselves for Pete’s sake!” is not confined to James, though, Paul’s letters to the young churches certainly support Luther’s message of the efficacy of grace, but admonitions defining Christian behaviour are there in abundance.

What I find refreshing in the quotation with which I started is its relevance to our experience of the world in our day. In an environment of belligerence and defensiveness, the love for peace, the willingness to actually do peace-planting work is hugely wanted. What is so ironic about the temper of our times is that even many who proclaim their salvation to be through the blood of Christ alone are taking stands with the belligerents. Grace-consciousness alone, apparently, has not been enough to persuade them of the righteousness of peace, love and mercy.

The momentary conversion, the sudden commitment to turning one’s life “heavenward” is not an experience to be taken lightly; many report their conversion as a powerful epiphany. But it’s also true that “growing into” a way of life is the usual pattern for human beings. I was taught in psychology classes that conventional wisdom says we do good things after and because we’ve attained a good attitude. Attitude dictates action, in other words. There’s some obvious truth to that, but there’s another less-touted bit of wisdom that says that our attitudes are shaped by our actions. James’ sowing of the seeds in the making of peace will blossom into right thought and living.

Heaven and earth know that conventional wisdom can fill us with as much prejudice as understanding. Enmity toward other races, for instance, isn’t assuaged by lectures about tolerance; it’s easily demonstrated that interaction with other races is the most likely route to tolerance, if not appreciation necessarily. This requires deliberate acts, putting ourselves in initially-uncomfortable places, planting peace-making seeds that will grow into right relationships.

James would have us take this seriously. I think he would agree that if we want our children to appreciate others, to empathize with others’ pain, to practise “right living,” then we must place them over and over into situations where they can or must learn the arts of peace, justice and mercy. Those experiences can shape the attitude that will stand the testing of the conflict temptation.

Christian faith that places all its teaching in the grace basket runs the risk of one-sidedness; we ought not write out of the gospels, not out of the epistles . . . and not out of James, what it means for us to pick up the torch (or the cross, if you will) that Jesus laid down. If it feels like a tongue-lashing to us, it may be because it’s necessary—as it was in the early church.

It’s wonderful to be blessed; but to be a blessing, well, that’s another thing.