Easter 6 - Fruit that Lasts

A long, dark hallway.  That’s what I remember. 

Odd, because hospitals only have long, dark hallways in the movies – especially when there’s some psychopath hiding, ready to jump out and attack you.  But there was no such luck in this hospital.

It was my second year of Seminary, my first month of clinical pastoral education; a eight-month hospital internship that was supposed to help me a) hone my pastoral skills; and b) become more self-aware about myself and my call to ministry.  The long, dark hallway represented my first ‘near-death experience’ – not my own death; but the first time that I, as a chaplain, was called to minister to someone who was dying, and was called to care for their family.

Quiet panic was the order of the day.  As I walked down that hallways, I was filled with all sorts of thoughts and doubts – thoughts about what I would say, what I would see; doubts about my abilities, and doubts about my call and vocations.

And this verse wandered through my head: “you didn’t choose me.  I chose you.”  And somewhere in the deep, dark recesses of my mind I thought: “gee, thanks Jesus.  I’ve been chosen.  Now what!!??”

“Now what?” Jesus replies: “now, go and bear fruit that lasts.”

I think that one of the hardest experiences we may share as Christians is that seminal moment when we’re called to put our stated faith into action; to go and sit with the family of a dying person, to bring a casserole to the mother whose husband just left her, to knock on the door of the home of the family that just lost a child, take a deep breath, and love them.

That’s bearing fruit that lasts.  And curiously enough, that’s something Christians don’t do often, or well.  Because we live in a society of instant gratification, we think that because we spout out a sound byte, or shake our heads at a culturally appropriate time, that we are bearing fruit: it’s quick, easy, and makes us feel good.  Like buying an apple at a store, and declaring it to be ‘our apple’.

But like Christianity that is purchased at a church, that apple has been picked too soon, commercialized, chemicalized, and commodified.  It may not even wither and die – it will remain waxy and glossy on the surface long after it has rotted at its core.  If you have ever tended a fruit tree, though, you know the work that is required to produce good, lasting fruit.  Incessant pruning, caring, and hard work is necessary to bear good fruit, and that fruit does not last long when it is removed from the tree.

So, US President Barack Obama made history this week, when he became the first President in US history to go on record as stating that he supports gay marriage.  Rush Limbaugh stated that Obama has declared war on marriage – but his first, second, and third wives couldn’t be reached for their opinion.  Being homophobic is not showing support, or love, for family.

But, interestingly enough, if someone hangs out a sign promoting ‘love for families’, or ‘support for families’ they risk being immediately labeled as exclusive, fundamentalist, misogynistic, or some combination of all three – because of the association with fear and violence that reactionary, hateful rhetoric of the debate has come to represent. 

Fruit that lasts isn’t opinion, or repeating verbatim what some pastor said.  The only fruit that lasts is love; and love shows itself in action.

There is probably no word more mis-used or mis-understood in the whole of the English language than ‘love.’  People ‘love’ chocolate (and I’m going to avoid pointing at my wife at this point!), they love sports, money, vacations in Mexico, their car, their hairstylist, and we all know that most men just love beer.

We also know that with a divorce rate approaching 50%, love for beer and chocolate is often considered far more important than love for one’s spouse.  There are appreciation days for ‘beer lovers’ and ‘chocolate lovers’ and ‘shopaholics’ – “free love” was my the anthem of my mother’s generation, the Beatles sang “love is all you need” and there’s a sign outside a store I drove past the other day called “The Love Boutique” (I somehow don’t think that’s a therapy group). 

The way we love shapes our families: it’s a hard rule to learn about parenting: it’s easy to say words to build up a child, than it is to say words to repair an adult (I know enough adults struggling to repair damage done in childhood by hurtful words spoken by parents).

When I was younger, a friend of my mother’s was trapped in an abusive relationship.  Her husband beat her, threatened her and her children, controlled her in terrible ways and made her life almost unbearable.

One evening I overheard my mother talking to this woman.  My mother asked, “why do you stay?”

And her friend replied simply, “he says he loves me.”

Beloved, we love as we have been shown love

You’d think, for all the community-awareness campaigns for domestic violence, that the rate would be going down.   But it’s not.  It’s going up.  The only war that’s being waged on the family is the one that happens when love is confused for control.

The love that is given to us – that is modeled for us by the Saviour – is the love that we need: love lived in sacrifice, in community, and in joy.  There are so many interpretations of the idea that someone can ‘lay down their life’ for another.  But here’s something to think about:

There is only one person in all of history who chose to lay down his life, and that was Jesus – because only Jesus did not have to die.  Everyone else does.  No one chooses to lay down their life, because it is not theirs to lay down.  Through sacrifice, suicide, or stupidity, we can chose to end our lives early – but they are still going to end.

Christ, the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the by whom we became children of God chose to lay down his life in death so that our death would not be the end; and we he picked his life up again he raised us up through his power so that the fruit we bear would be eternal fruit.

We bear fruit that lasts because of the gift of Christ within us; the living waters of baptism in which we are washed, blessed, cleansed, and claimed by God.

Because of God with us, we bear fruit; because of Christ within us, we bear fruit that will last eternally: the proclamation of love and grace that we are part of something greater than ourselves.

We did not choose to bear fruit; the fruit tree, left to its own devices grows gnarled and notched.  But beloved, we have been chosen to bear fruit; to be the stones out of which Christ builds God’s holy church.  Every stone in a wall is under pressure, but that pressure is shared by every other stone.  Every piece of fruit on every giving tree is nourished by the same nutrients that come from the root; there is none that is by nature better than another.

Be the church together, beloved.  Support each other.  Care for each other.  Love each other.  You have been given the gift of joy – share that gift.