Spring is in the air. Even with the snow that fell this week, yesterday even. Even with the chill that persists, the clouds that are never far away, you can’t deny it any longer. Spring is here, and not yet. Present in the lightness of heart and hope in the eyes, present in the anticipation and plans to plant and weed and tend and clean up, looking forward to the harvest to come. Whatever your harvest might be, fruits and vegetables, plants and flowers, or simply the breathing of the air and moving about set free from the encumbrance of walls and furnaces and blankets and coats. We’re anticipating the harvest.
Of course the true gardeners among us know that while spring carries the promise of the harvest to come, it also speaks of a lot of hard work that must come before. There is labor involved in moving toward the harvest. Workers are needed, effort expended, toil involved in producing the fruit we long for, the fruit we live for. The snow melts away and we see the residue that must be cleared away, the pruning that must be done. And there is a voice inside of us that calls for the clouds and the cold and wind and the wet so we can retreat inside and ignore the work that is before us.
Our journey continues this Lenten season, our Way to Heaven. We’ve come to the realization of our own sinfulness, our need for a savior. We’ve been made aware of the grace that surrounds us, even before we’ve leaned into it, even before we’ve claimed the gift, it’s just there like the rain that falls on the just and the unjust. And we’ve remembered that we have a choice, that we can run out and sing in the rain, dance in the rain or we can hunch over and try to stay dry, holding a rapidly dissolving newspaper over our heads as we dash for shelter. It’s our choice, our response to the gift, to the grace that is life itself.
But now we stand, dripping on the living room carpet and wonder what’s next. Where do we go from here? How do we hold on the joy of dancing in the rain? How do we live the life that we have decided to reach out and grab hold of with both hands? How do we keep it from running through our fingers like the puddle we tried to put in our pocket? It’s elusive, this life thing, it seems to slip away almost as quickly as it came. In our trying to get through each day, we can lose our grip on where we’re heading, what we’re embracing. In living each day we can forget to be alive. Forget that we are alive.
Gal. 5:13-26 For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. 14 For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." 15 If, however, you bite and devour one another, take care that you are not consumed by one another. 16 Live by the Spirit, I say, and do not gratify the desires of the flesh. 17 For what the flesh desires is opposed to the Spirit, and what the Spirit desires is opposed to the flesh; for these are opposed to each other, to prevent you from doing what you want. 18 But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not subject to the law. 19 Now the works of the flesh are obvious: fornication, impurity, licentiousness, 20 idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, 21 envy, drunkenness, carousing, and things like these. I am warning you, as I warned you before: those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God. 22 By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, 23 gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things. 24 And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. 25 If we live by the Spirit, let us also be guided by the Spirit. 26 Let us not become conceited, competing against one another, envying one another.
So, that’s how we do it. We make lists! (There you go, La Donna, you were right all along) That’s what Paul says anyway. We make lists. Paul loves his lists. They pop us all over the place. You’re reading along and suddenly there it is. His shopping list. What? No, well, sort of. A list of things he’s looking for.
Or, in this case, a list of things he’s trying to avoid. An anti-shopping list. A take to the dump list. A spring cleaning list. A ... well, you get the idea. He does go on a bit with his list of negativity. It doesn’t take long before we’re waving him away, saying we get it, we get it. Sin is bad. Got it, thanks. But he keeps going. Almost as if he wants to find something that strikes a chord in our hearts. Something that feels like our own crushed toes instead of the toes of the folks on the other side of the sanctuary. We hear idolatry and sorcery (really? Sorcery?) and we snicker behind our hands. But he keeps on going and gets to jealousy and anger and suddenly he’s moved from preaching to meddling.
Thankfully this isn’t just a list of disapproval, not just the stay away list. There is also the embrace list. The life list. We’re looking for life, remember. We’re embracing the new possibilities that are ours in Christ. So we have another list. A singular list. Did you notice that? The list of negativity is a plurality. A list of diffusion, of scattering, of this and that and the other thing, a list of dividing and turning inward, a wall building list. The first list is a list destructive of community. But the second list is singular. WorkS of the flesh, but Fruit not fruits of the Spirit. Notice? Not really a list. An attribute. A gift. A focus. Love. The fruit of the Spirit is love. We could stop there - Paul doesn’t, but he could have. Love. That’s it. That’s all. All we need is love. But what kind of love? I mean there is love and there is love. Love is in every song on the radio, on every soap opera on television, every novel we read, every ad we consume. Ah, says Paul, ah. The fruit of the Spirit is love - but it is love that is joyful, love that is peaceful - peace bringing, peace bestowing. It is love that is patient, and kind (he’ll remember that phrase and repeat it later when he writes to the church in Rome). It is a love that is generous, that pours out like the rain of grace that is poured down on us constantly. A love that is faithful, that honors the relationship, that lifts up the other and doesn’t always ask “what do I get out of this.” The fruit of the Spirit is a love that is gentle, not just that it cuddles kittens and puppies, but that it bends down to help those who have fallen, that it holds the beloved in an embrace that strengthens and not drains.
And the fruit of the Spirit is love that is self-controlled. Self- controlled? Really Paul. Self? Or does he really mean the fruit of the Spirit is love that is Spirit-controlled. Spirit controlled so seamlessly that it seems like self. So natural that the will that resides in us seems like our will, but it is really God’s will woven into our DNA, our way of seeing the world, our giftedness that is played out in ways that are different from everyone else’s. And yet it isn’t us. It can’t be us. It is us transformed. Us remade. Us surrendered. Self-control, I’ve tried that. I’ve been there. I threw out the T-shirt. I want Spirit controlled love to take root in me and bring forth the harvest of fruit that ripples out into a hungry and needy world.
So, now we’ve got our lists. Our stay away from this pile of squirming divisiveness list and our gathering together and focusing our whole being into one whole self-aware, spirit-filled person list. Now what? Now, work. That’s what. Soil to till, seeds to plant, pruning to do and weeds to pull. Yeah, it’s not very glamorous. It’s not the sinking our teeth into the ripe juicy fruit of our salvation, not the mountaintop excitement of breathing the air of the Spirit and knowing without a doubt that we are alive in Christ. Well, it is. That is there too. There is joy, there is enthusiasm, there is passion there. But there is work there too. There is the daily choosing to let the Spirit lead, the monumental effort of surrendering your will again and again and again.
There are tools, every gardener needs tools to work the fertile ground. The tools for this labor of sanctifying grace, letting God work in us and through us are called means of grace. Spiritual disciplines. Practices that bring us back to the decision point again and take us where God would have us go. Wesley identified five instituted means of grace, not as exclusive practices, but as ones that help us understand the process of being shaped in faith. His five were prayer and searching the scriptures, communion and fasting, and gathering in groups to share faith and hold one another accountable. These disciplines are the means by which we work toward the harvest, through which we cultivate the fruit of the Spirit within us and between us. They are the life’s blood of living the life that Christ came to bring us, the air that we breathe so we can inhale the Spirit that takes up residence within us. They are the signs of God’s eternal spring at work in us. Thanks be to God.
Shalom,
Derek
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