Boxed Band Fruit

“So then, you will know them by their fruits.” (Matthew 7:20 NIV)

There were two workmen, one was a Christian and the other was not.  Work had forced them to spend much time together.  For several weeks they would spend the majority of their day at the office, so, by proximity, they got to know each other pretty well.  They seemed to go well together.  Their personalities matched up; they had similar lifestyles, similar tastes for dirty jokes, similar drinking habits, and seemingly similar priorities.  For several weeks, they enjoyed each other’s company, having many laughs.  A friendship had formed.

After several months, work required them to take separate projects, to go their separate ways.  On the final day, a serious topic came up in the normally lighthearted relationship.  Religion.  The Christian worker revealed his belief, stunning the non-Christian.  The non-Christian was confused, baffled at the one he thought he knew so well.  The conversation did not go far because work was calling them in two different directions.  So, they departed on their separate paths.  And life went on.

I wish that I could tell you that this simple story was for illustration purposes only, and that it was only to demonstrate what happens in many of our lives.

But it’s not.

This story was a very simplified version of an event to which I played witness.  And though I was not the person in the story, I could have been.  I could have been many times over.  Maybe not in the jokes or the drinking habits, but in the instance of a faith that goes unknown to another.

There are so many people that cross our paths in our lifetime.  They come.  They go.  Some stay for many years, maybe even until death.  Others are in front of us for a few days, maybe just a few hours.  There are some people that we will get to know really well.  There are others who we will barely recognize the next time we are in the same room.

Will they know our faith?  Will they know our hope?  How will they recognize what lies inside of us?

According to Jesus, it is our fruit, the production of our heart that leaves impacts on this earth.

I guess not we must ask the question, “What is fruit?”  Fruit is the product of multiple inputs: good soil, adequate water, ample sunlight.  Fruit can be good.  Fruit can be bad.  Fruit can be nonexistent.  Fruit provides sustenance; it fills a hunger.  Fruit is perishable; a tree will eventually have to produce new fruit.  Fruit it the mark of a tree, vine, or whatever type of  fruit-bearing plant.  It is one of the easiest to spot distinguishable characteristics of a plant.  If a tree has a bunch of orange fruit hanging from its branches, it is probably some type of citrus tree, maybe an orange tree.  A tree is known by its fruit.  Jesus wisely used good fruit as a metaphor for evident faith. Fruit and faith are interchangeable on many levels, the connection is beautifully simple.

So with the fruit metaphor in place, how do we make sure that our faith is evident to those around us?  How do we make sure that our fruit is seen?  It has to be an outflow of what is inside of you.  It it a culmination of you, me seeking out God, spending time with Him, loving Him, doing as He would want us to do.  And it can’t be faked.

“No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bears good fruit.  Each tree is recognized by its own fruit.” (Luke 6:43 NIV)

There is not substitute for good fruit.  In elementary school, I was in the school band (yes, back then I somehow thought that playing the French horn would help me pick up the ladies.  I should have tried soccer.).  Every year we would raise funds for our band through citrus sales.  We would go door to door, asking our neighbors if they would like to order some boxes of fruit and support our glorious band.  To the satisfaction of my mother and the frustration of my father, the largest order would inevitably come from our house.  For weeks, I would feast on oranges, tangerines, and other citrus fruits.  I looked forward to those sweet, juicy fruits every year.  Unfortunately, I have yet to have some elementary band member come knocking on my door, trying to sell boxed band fruit.  I would be a pushover.  Put me down for two boxes.

So where did the supposed Christian workman go wrong?  Why did the faith he claimed become such a shock to the other workman?  The mere fact that he was surprised by the other man’s claim to be a Christian reveals that the non-Christian saw the fruit, but it was not the good fruit that Jesus mentioned.  It was not elementary band fruit.  It was bad fruit.  He was recognized as having bad fruit.  That was his mark.

As Christians, we need to be constantly aware of the life that we are leading, or leaving behind.  We may be able to say some “churchy” words, do some “churchy” things, but we can not fake our fruit, our impact we leave on others.  Saying that we love Jesus means nothing to the world unless we show the fruit that backs our words.  Just as an orange tree cannot pretend to be an apple tree, we cannot pretend to be more than who we are.  Our life’s shadow will be seen.

We have to look at the path we have left behind.  What are its markings?  What are its fruit?  Does the world look at us and immediately determine that we are just too giving, just too loving, just too sacrificing, just too fulfilled to be anything but a follower of Christ, anything but a Christian?  In the world’s forest of unbelief, are we easily recognized as a different type of tree with a different and better type of fruit?