Acorn Bodies, Oak Pleasures, and the Place of Pain

April 28, 2010

On Sunday we caught a glimmer of Paul’s resurrection hope-based on Christ’s own resurrection-that our bodies will be transformed to a greater glory when Jesus returns.  These acorn-like bodies will be changed into oak-like resurrection bodies (NOTE: I’m switching from “sycamore” to “oak,” after being informed that sycamore trees do not grow from acorns-further evidence that I am no arborist).  These transformed, oak-like bodies will be fit for the oak-like pleasures that our current, acorn bodies cannot sustain, namely, the pleasure of being in God’s very presence.

Few have written about the reality of this coming glory more imaginatively than C.S. Lewis.  He famously stated, “If I discover within myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”  As sensible as this seems, Lewis was aware that believers lose sight of our glorious hope, being inebriated with the acorn-sized pleasures of our current reality.  He captured this struggle fictionally in The Silver Chair, one of the Narnia books, through a conversation between the Queen of Underland (a Satan figure) and four characters newly introduced to her world.

The Queen speaks to the children in a sweet voice while her enchanting aroma and captivating music cloud their minds.  She questions their claims of anything beyond Underland existing, noting that their concepts of a sun or a lion-which do not exist in Underland-are mere childish imaginings of something greater than a light bulb or a cat-which do exist in the Queen’s domain.  Her intoxicating scents and songs bring the children to such a stupor that they finally admit, “There never was any world but yours.”  To use our language from Sunday, “There is no oak tree; there is only acorn.”

What breaks the spell is when one of the characters desperately rushes toward the fire and stamps out the source of the enchanting aroma.  The pain of this act made the character’s “head for a moment perfectly clear” so that “he knew exactly what he really thought.”  Lewis observes, “There is nothing like a good shock of pain for dissolving certain kinds of magic.”  Indeed the courageous effort brought clarity to all the children, and they saw the beautiful, charming Queen for the vicious, green serpent that she was.

For Lewis, this children’s fantasy tale represented his convictions about pain.  In another well known quote he claims that “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: It is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”  Pain is first and foremost a byproduct of man’s rebellion against God and the consequential brokenness of the creation.  Yet Lewis sees pain functioning as an indicator that this world is not all that there is, that we were created for something more, something whole, something lasting.

There is certainly nothing virtuous about pain or sinful about painlessness in this world.  But as we do experience physical, emotional, and relational pain, let us embrace the opportunity to yearn for the transformation of our bodies to resurrection glory.  Let us yearn for the shalom of God’s perfected kingdom.  And let us be set free from the notion that “there never was any world but this” to live for the world to come.

Pastor Chris