Fruits of a Simple Faith

joynow23

Jan 21

Yesterday morning, looking out at the snow and trying not to think about the 2-degree temperature, I suddenly had a picture in my mind of lots of pink and white flowers. As the image took shape, I realized I was thinking about what I'd like to plant in my front gardens this spring. It was a different color scheme and selection from years past. I let myself daydream for a few moments and then I got a piece of paper and a pen and sketched out the plan for this year—what I want to plant and where. What a great and hopeful exercise for a frigid January morning!

We live—and for the most part, we expect to live—in a cause-and-effect world. If we shovel the sidewalk in the evening, we expect it to still be shoveled when we go out to get the paper in the morning (unless we've had a lot more snow overnight). When we mix up the ingredients to bake a cake and put it in the oven, we don't expect a lasagna to come out. When we put out our tomato plants in the spring, we don't think the harvest will be cranberries. There is a logic to it all. We plan, we plant, we reap what we sow. It's the natural way of things.

This cycle of experience helps us learn many things about our lives, our world, ourselves. We discover how to do things, make progress, proceed toward a goal. We feel like we have some semblance of control over the process if we know how things are going to go. It lessens our anxiety to see the road ahead. If we put time and effort into something, we know we'll generally master it—or at least become suitably adept at whatever we're trying to do. If we make what matters most to us a priority in our lives—family and faith, friendship and fun—we can be reasonably certain that those areas of our lives will bear fruit and give us a sense of connection and joy.

Sooner or later, we begin to see the result of our efforts: the job that came along because we'd invested the time and attention in the schooling that equipped us to do the work. The happy marriage that blossomed after years of learning about communication and cooperation, forgiveness and understanding. Lots of trial and error there, but we learn. The big vacation that happens because we planned and saved for it; the goal we reached because we stayed focused and worked steadily at it, pushing through when we were tempted to give up. What we do, what we think, what we choose consistently—eventually00brings results because our thoughts and actions create.

But as helpful as this pattern can be when we have a specific goal or want a desired outcome, we can also inadvertently create things we don't want if we're not aware of the seeds we're planting. If we ruminate on scary things, fretting about the state of our world, watching shows that further upset us and make us feel vulnerable and unsafe, we are inadvertently creating a fearful state within us and around us, a picture of the world that's dark and discouraging. If we are irritable and short-tempered with others, we could be planting seeds of disharmony that may come back to us in the form of rude drivers, bad servers, and unreasonable—or untrustworthy—contractors.

When things around us seem to be blossoming with fruits we don't want—conflict, misunderstanding, upset, judgment—we can recognize those uncomfortable events as invitations to consider what we're planting. With a little awareness and intention, we can begin to sow seeds—on purpose—that can bring a better result, one more in line with what we hope for—happiness, contentment, peace, harmony, civility, kindness. It's one small way we can each take responsibility for shining the light we have into the world. And who knows? Maybe our light will inspire someone else's and change their day or lift their heart.

In our Old Testament reading today, the psalmist tells us that this cause-and-effect pattern is also a part of our lives of faith:

"Good people will prosper
like palm trees,
and they will grow strong
like the cedars of Lebanon.
They will take root
in your house, Lord God,
and they will do well.
They will be like trees
that stay healthy and fruitful,
even when they are old.
And they will say about you,
The Lord always does right!
God is our mighty rock."

We can expect to see evidence of God's goodness in our lives when we live in tune with the values of our faith. We will see the good qualities of God—peace, kindness, harmony, and truth—showing up around us because we ourselves are planting the seeds of those values everywhere we go. The fruit of our faith is the natural expression of "that of God" in us. If nothing hinders it, like fear or judgment, doubt or distrust, the light shines unabated and blesses us all.

Our Quaker testimonies can help guide us as we go along: simplicity, peace, integrity, community, equality, and stewardship. When we're struggling with a complex problem, we can remember that God has a simple solution. And pray for it. And watch for it. When we're in conflict, we can remind ourselves how much we value peace. When we are tempted to bend the truth or sidestep responsibility for something, we can remember how important it is to live with integrity—integrity in our hearts and minds, our words and actions. Not because it's expected, but because the light shines from the inside out.

Of all the blossoms that emerge over time as we live out a simple faith, there are three I think deserve a special mention, and they are easy to see in our own lives: Peace, heart, and light. Peace is God's harmony, within us and with among us. Heart is our capacity to care tenderly for each other, to nurture and want the best for all living beings, to act with goodness and care because our hearts are open and tender, in tune with God's love. And light is the agent of God's truth, the Christ Light within us all, leading us to deeper understanding, setting us free of resentments and judgments, helping us find our way to living in tune with the best of God's hope for all of us.

Each of us knows what peace is. We know what it feels like, what it sounds like. We know when we have it, and we know when it's gone. When we are enjoying a peaceful afternoon, chances are that we don't have anywhere else we need to be or anything else to do. We don't feel torn; all our tasks are finished—or set aside, for a time—and we feel free of expectations and responsibilities. We may be somewhere beautiful, or in one of our favorite spots, maybe with people and animals we love. We don't feel rushed, we don't feel stressed, all pressure feels gone. We know what peace feels like--we breathe easily; our blood pressure drops; our muscles relax; we rest.

Similarly, we all know what it is to have an open, tender heart—to be kind. Kindness is something that happens in our interactions with others—a smile, an opened door, a gentle gesture, a feeling of good will. And it also could be a gentleness we extend toward ourselves, giving ourselves a break, taking a moments rest, saying "atta-girl!" for a job well done. Kindness might be the grace in someone's heart when we apologize. Kindness could be a friendly thought, a reaching out, someone letting you know she hadn't heard from you in a while and was thinking of you. We also know what kindness feels like when we are the ones offering it. There is a warmth in the heart, a gentleness of spirit, a feeling deep within us that wishes that other person well, that hopes for their happiness, that knows that our gesture—whatever it might be—might add a smile or a little uplift to their day. We care about that. Our hearts are open, kind, caring, receptive. God smiles through us when we have tender hearts.

And the working of light is likely the most important of them all because it is the factor that makes the other fruits visible. The light within us, God's companioning wisdom, shows us a better way, helps us understand, as we learn and grow in grace and love. As George Fox wrote,

"The light checks you when you speak an evil word and tells you that you should not be proud or unrestrained nor fashion yourselves like the world, for the fashion of this world passes away."

Thanks to the light of truth within us, we begin to understand where we are limiting love, how we hold grudges, where we might feel lighter and freer in our lives. It all begins with listening to those quiet little inner nudges, those feelings we get that something's off, the stirring that tells us to look closer, to listen for other answers. It may be hard to believe when we look around at the state of the world and the prevalence of social media, but we each have a built-in compass that helps us recognize what's true. Can we get confused? We can. Do we sometimes believe the wrong people? We do. But we each have a built-in corrective, an inward teacher that helps us know what's real and true and lasting if we are willing to listen.

We all know that feeling of rightness that comes when we finally get to the truth of a matter. Something inside us relaxes. The answer we've discovered finally "rings true." You may remember a time when someone wasn't telling the complete truth about something…and you could just feel it. Your intuition told you there was more to the story. Until the truth comes out, there's a feeling of tension and unease. But when everything comes to light, we relax. Why? Because the truth really does set us free. We get that, and we feel it, deep down.

In the New Testament reading from John 15, Jesus is speaking to the disciples in the upper room, trying to prepare them for all the changes that will come in the days ahead. Judas has just left the dinner to go betray Jesus to the authorities. Time is growing short. Jesus says,

'I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me."

Here Jesus is saying something very important—for then and for now. Good will continue to blossom through you, Jesus says. Good seeds have been planted and they will bear fruit. When we have ideas and patterns of behavior that aren't loving or peaceful or truthful, the light will reveal them in us so that we can see them and let them go and choose a better way.

"I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing…If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. This is to my Father's glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples."

Peace, heart, and light are three fruits of a simple, faithful life that we each have the power and the opportunity to nourish every single day. We can know "that of God" in us as a heavenly garden of good, an endless source of loving, kind, merciful, honest ideas and actions that inspire us and those around us to add more light to the world.

In closing, I'd like to share a beautiful new poem from the poet Danna Faulds. It's entitled, "Simple Instructions."

Receive with gratitude;
Share with generosity;
See the highest in everyone
you meet; Be a purveyor
of light in your world;
Take only what you need;
Look inward to your source
for strength and ease and
guidance; Grow quiet in the
presence of infinite awareness;
In the endless struggle between
fear and love, let love reach out
to fear with warmth and empathy,
and fear might be transformed;
Trust that you are enough to
meet the moment you are facing;
Live as if everything you do and say,
all your thoughts and imaginings
matter - because they do.
Open yourself to a direct experience
of the divine and never forget
what's inside you.