The Fruits of the Spirit – Galatians 5:22-26

The Fruits of the Spirit – Galatians 5:22-26

Written by Elizabeth Davey

Coming in the side door of the church this morning, preoccupied with my aching foot and sundry annoyances and inconveniences of the morning, I passed Millicent walking in the hall and quietly singing with the rehearsing praise team the words of “Abba, Father.” When I caught the familiar phrase, “You saturate our lives with love and mercy,” my heart was strangely warmed.  Later, browsing through Galatians I spotted Paul’s reminder, “God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” (Gal. 4.6).  Being in church was a good thing.

The familiar passage outlining the fruit of the Spirit often causes me anxiety. “Love … joy … peace … patience … kindness … generosity … faithfulness … gentleness … self-control.” I am bound to stumble over any one in the list and become preoccupied with my failure in love or peace or self-control. Similarly, when we wonder what we would do on a sinking cruise ship, would we have the courage and discipline to exercise the spirit of generosity and love to seek to save others and not ourselves? There is that nagging doubt that self might prevail.

It is instructive that the fruit of the Spirit is not what we conjure up but what is present in our lives when God’s Spirit is present.  On the one hand, we are assured that God is present when these characteristics are evident; on the other, when we open ourselves up to his activity, these traits will emerge.  Musing on the possibility of  being more and more saturated with his love and mercy makes me truly hopeful and energized.

There is a lovely poem by the American poet Jessica Powers that expresses some of my feelings from today’s reflections:

                               The Mercy of God

 

I am copying down in a book from my heart’s archives

the day that I ceased to fear God with a shadowy fear.

Would you name it the day that I measured my column o virtue

and sighted through windows of merit a crown that was near?

Ah, no, it was rather the day I began to see truly

that I came forth from nothing and ever toward nothingness tend,

that the works of my hands are a foolishness wrought in the presence

of the worthiest king in a kingdom that never shall end.

I rose up from the acres of self that I tended with passion

and defended with flurries of pride;

I walked out of myself and went into the woods of God’s mercy,

and here I abide.

There is greenness and calmness and coolness, a soft leafy covering

from the judgment of sun overhead,

and the hush of His peace, and the moss of His mercy to tread.

I have naught but my will seeking God; even love burning in me

is a fragment of infinite loving and never my own.

And I fear God no more; I go forward to wander forever

in a wilderness made of His infinite mercy alone.

 

I am not quite there, I’m afraid, but the poet has provided a picture of this great possibility of enjoying life “by the Spirit, “led by the Spirit.” It’s worth pursuing – with all of our hearts!