52 Sermon Illustrations on Fruitfulness

"He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that brings forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither" (Psalms 1:3). An article out of Choice Gleanings reads as follows: "As one approaches the three-score-and-ten age, thoughts as to future usefulness to the Lord often occur. Walking through a nearby forest, I spotted a strange sight. An old, gnarled tree had been broken, but green shoots were still proceeding from it. It was also supporting a fallen tree. We can still be useful at three-score-and-ten and beyond."

A farmer was showing his fine orchard to a friend who admired its neat and regular appearance. "But," said the friend, pointing to a peculiarly shaped tree, "if that were my tree I'd root it up in order to preserve the uniformity of the orchard." The farmer smiled and said that he was more interested in the fruit than in the form. "This tree," he said, "has yielded me more fruit than any of those trees that conform to a more regular pattern." Sometimes Christian workers may become so accustomed to doing things in what they consider the traditional or time-honored way that they forget to evaluate its productiveness.

A gentleman who was arranging the grounds around his residence stumbled over a lump of earth which had rolled from a newly-unloaded heap of gravel. He kicked it aside, and bade the gardener's son remove it with other rubbish. The boy carried the clod to a spot beneath the caves of his father's cottage, where the rain fell upon it. Erelong, a beautiful vine sprang out of it, which shaded and adorned the cottage, and was annually loaded with grapes of the richest kind, which the gentleman was glad to buy, at a high price, of the gardener's son. The latent principles of a sublime growth are lying in many a clod, now quite valueless and unsightly to those who account themselves the rich and accomplished of the earth. The clod would come to life and bear fruit high above their heads, if there were only given to it a few droppings from the caves.

There is a counterfeit olive-tree in Palestine. It is called the wild olive, or the oleaster. It is in all points like the genuine tree, except that it yields no fruit. Alas! how many wild olives are there in the church! When I see a man taking up large space in Christ's spiritual orchard, and absorbing a vast deal of sunlight and soil, and yielding no real fruit, I say, "Ah! there is an oleaster!" Bones.

It is said of Rev. Dr. Franklin that he had a passion for fruitfulness. His signet-ring had for a device a fruit-bearing tree, with the motto from Ps. i. 3. And when near his end, being asked by his son and pastoral successor for some word of condensed wisdom to be treasured up as a remembrance and a prompter, he breathed into his ear the word, "FRUITFUL."

— Doues

Those who travel through deserts would often be at a loss for water, if certain indications, which the hand of Providence has marked out, did not serve to guide them to a supply. The secret wells are, for the most part, discoverable from the verdure which is nourished by their presence. So the fruitfulness of good works of the believer, amidst the deadness and sterility around him, proclaim the Christian's life. Salter.

A barren and a fruitful vine are growing side by side in the garden; and the barren vine says to the fruitful one, "Is not my root as good as yours?" "Yes," replies the vine, "as good as mine." "And are not my lower leaves as broad and spreading? and is not my stem as large, and my bark as shaggy?" — "Yes," says the vine. "And are not my leaves as green? and have I not as many bugs creeping up and down? and am I not taller than you?" — "Yes," meekly replies the vine, "but I have blossoms." — "Oh! blossoms are of no use." — "But I bear fruit." "What, those clusters? Those are only a trouble to a vine." But what thinks the vintner? He passes by the barren vine; but the other, filling the air with its odor in spring, and drooping with purple clusters in autumn, is his pride and joy; and he lingers near it, and prunes it, that it may become yet more luxuriant and fruitful. So the moralist and the Christian. Beecher.

When the Interpreter had done, he takes them out into his garden again, and led them to a tree whose inside was all rotten and gone; and yet it grew and had leaves. Then said Mercy, "What means this?" — "This tree," said he, "whose outside is fair, and whose inside is rotten, is it to which many may be compared that are in the garden of God; who with their mouths speak high in behalf of God, but in deed will do nothing for him; whose leaves are fair, but their heart good for nothing but to be tinder for the Devil's tinder-box." Bunyan.

When Mr. Gutzlaff, in his third voyage to China, went on shore for the first time at a particular place, the people were distrustful, and some of them hinted that the Christian books merely contained the doctrines of western barbarians, which were quite at variance with the tenets of the Chinese sages. Mr. G. did not undertake to contest this point with them, but proceeded to administer relief to a poor man who was almost blind; thus showing the spirit and conduct which the gospel inculcates. The man was affected with this unexpected kindness, and, turning towards Mr. G., said, "Judging from your actions, your doctrines must be excellent; therefore I beseech you give me some of your books; though I myself cannot read, I have children who can." "From this moment," says Mr. G., "the demand for the word of God increased, so that I could never pass a hamlet without being importuned by the people to impart to them the knowledge of divine things. In the wide excursion which I took, I daily witnessed the demand for the word of God."

The Rev. Thomas Jackson, of Stockwell, in the memoir of Mr. Hill, furnished to the Evangelical Magazine, states:—Perhaps no man in modern times has been more honored than Mr. Hill, as the instrument of converting souls; his talent appeared more particularly in awakening the careless; instances of which the writer has had many opportunities of witnessing; and he does not remember ever having stayed two days with Mr. H. in any town, without meeting with one person or more to whom his ministry had been made useful. One case, among many, he cannot omit: the scene occurred at Devonport, Devonshire, after Mr. H. had been preaching a missionary sermon to a crowded congregation in the large chapel in Prince's street. The people had withdrawn, and the deacons and a few friends had retired, with Mr. H., into the vestry, when two tall, venerable looking men, upwards of seventy years of age, appeared at the vestry door. After a short pause they entered, arm-in-arm, and advanced towards Mr. H., when one of them said, with some degree of trepidation, "Sir, will you permit two old sinners to have the honor to shake you by the hand?" He replied, with some reserve, "Yes, sir!" when one of these gentlemen, the other hanging on his arm, took his hand, kissed it, bathed it with his tears, and said, "Sir, do you remember preaching on the spot where this chapel now stands, fifty years ago?" "Yes, I do," was the reply. The old man then proceeded to say, "Oh, sir! never can the dear friend who has hold of my arm, or myself, forget that sermon; we were then two careless young men, in his majesty's dock-yard, posting to destruction as fast as time and sin could convey us thither. Having heard that an interesting young clergyman was to preach out of doors, we determined to go and have some fun; accordingly we loaded our pockets with stones, intending to pelt you; but, sir, when you arrived, our courage failed, and as soon as you engaged in prayer, we were so deeply moved that our purpose wavered, and as soon as you began to speak, the word came with power to our hearts; the big tears rolled down our cheeks; we put our hands in our pockets, and dropped the stones one after another, until they were all gone; for God had taken the stone out of our hearts. When the service was over, we retired; but our hearts were too full to speak, until we came near to our lodgings, when my friend at my elbow said, 'John, this will not do; we are both wrong; good night.' This was all he could utter; he retired to his apartment, I to mine; but neither of us dared to go to bed, lest we should awake in hell; and from that time, sir, we humbly hope we were converted to God, who, of his infinite mercy, has kept us in his ways to the present moment; and we thought, sir, if you would permit us, after the lapse of half a hundred years, to have the pleasure of shaking you by the hand before we go home, it would be the greatest honor that could be conferred on us." Mr. H. was deeply affected; the tears rolled down his venerable cheeks in quick succession; he fell on the necks of the old men quite in the patriarchal style; and there you might have seen them, locked in each others' arms, weeping tears of holy joy and gratitude to the Father of mercies. It was a scene at which Gabriel might have rejoiced, and infidelity must have turned pale. The writer is aware that he cannot do justice to it by his description, though he feels, at this distance of time, something like celestial pleasure in recording what he then witnessed.

When Christ has to purge the branches, it is not a proof of worthlessness, but of the possibility of fruit, and the pledge of more. Can't depend on own power for fruits of the Spirit. Will be laid aside if we refuse to draw our life from Him

Suppose the tree should say: “My roots are strong, my boughs elastic and tough, firm against the stroke of wind and storm. Look at my bark, how smooth and fresh; and where is there a tree whose tides of sap are fuller or richer? What leaves, too, are these that I have woven out of the threads of sun and soil! Little wonder that the birds build nests in my branches, while the cattle find shade beneath my boughs.” Well, this is a good argument--for an apple-tree--but a poor one for a man. The hungry farmer-boy does not leap the fence on his way to the apple-tree looking for apple-sap or apple-boughs or apple-leaves--he is looking for apples. And God has built this world, not for the root moralities that support man. Industry is good--it is good not to lie and not to steal, and not to kill and not to perjure, but these beginnings are fundamental only, the man must go on from the leaf to the fruit. The fruit is truth in the inner parts, justice, measured by God’s standard, and mercy that tempers justice, love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith that trusts, and will not be confounded. (Text.)

— N. D. HILLIS

The chayote is in many particulars the most remarkable plant in the vegetable kingdom. It is entirely immune from fungi, and is the only plant known which insects do not attack. Altho it bears fruit, it is a vine. Its growth is surprizingly rapid. It is a perennial and clambers about, clings to and covers fence, barn, tallest tree--anything. It will often bear as many as five hundred fruits, some of them weighing no less than three pounds. It blossoms and ripens fruit every month in the year. It is palatable and nutritious. Its flowers are rich in nectar and a prolific source of honey. (Text.)

The lesson of the following poem, by T. Berry Smith, is that if we cultivate the good diligently the evil will thereby be weeded out:

Two fields lay side by side. Only a hedge Which ran athwart the plain dissevered them. In one my title lay, and he who owned The other was my brother. Each alike Had generous part of one ancestral lot, And each alike due diligence displayed On that he called his own. At early spring Each with a shining share upturned the soil And gave it to the sun, the wind, the shower. Thenceforth we rested not. Busily we wrought And wiped our briny brows ’neath burning suns, Biding the time of one far-off event.

At summer’s end we each one came at last To find our recompense. Each had his own, The end for which he’d toiled. Through all those days My only thought had been no weeds should grow, But he had plowed ’mid rows of waving corn And in so doing killed the cumbering weeds That grew between. And now at summer’s close Behold! my field was verdureless and bare, While his was clad in vestiture of gold. How vain my toil! His recompense how full, Who reaped so much, yet plowed no more than I!

Many a man who, standing alone, fails in fruitfulness, might reenforce his powers by availing himself of the help of others, much as this pear-tree was reenforced:

An ingenious plan to save a dying pear-tree was adopted in the gardens of L. M. Chase, of Boston. The mice had girded the tree so that it seemed bound to die. Mr. Chase planted four small trees around it, and close to it, cut off the tops, pointed the ends, and, making incisions in the bark of the pear, bent the small trees, and grafted them upon the dying trunk. They all lived, and that tree draws its nourishment from the small ones. A bushel of handsome pears were taken from it.--_Public Opinion._

Some time back, I realized that no matter how much I read and talked, I would never be quite certain whether Ehrlich or Simon is right -- whether population is an appalling dilemma or nothing to worry about.

I came to this conclusion when reading a statement from a group of eminent scientists alerting the world to the dire nature of population growth. One Nobel prize-winning physicist spoke fiercely on the subject. I asked myself, how does he know? Does his study of subatomic particles give him competence to judge the hundreds of ecological studies that are published every year, the computer analyses of economic growth? Even a scientist who is expert in one of the many fields touching population growth probably only knows firsthand the very narrow area of his expertise - say, soil erosion in a district of Kenya.

When I’ve probed why such people believe population is a fundamental problem, they usually come back to the same basic belief or world-view that started Malthus in the first place. If one million people have a problem, two million people will have twice as much of the problem, and ten million people may have ten or even a hundred times as much of the problem. That is common sense. By some markers, though -- food production and resource scarcity -- common sense has been incorrect.

I concluded that philosophical assumptions or “intuitions” have shaped the debate about population at least as much as scientific data have. For this reason, and because decisions about children are so sensitive, it is important for Christian theology to join the fray. Theology does not enable us to settle the argument between Ehrlich and Simon. Nowhere in the Bible does it say how many people can safely live on the earth, or even if a limit exists. But Scripture can help shape the way we think and respond to population. It can give us a world-view that helps us avoid the stubborn extremes of interpretation.

Unfortunately, when you search the library databases for theological reflections on population, you find almost nothing. This is not a subject to which great -- or even little -- theological minds have given attention.

Some theologians have written about ecology but even here, biblical reflection has just begun.

Population begs for biblical reflection. A Christian world-view will give us both precepts to guide the way we think and a mandate that calls us to action. I would suggest several principles:

Family planning belongs to families. Throughout Scripture, from Adam and Eve though Abram and Sarah, from Jesus’ birth to his blessing the wedding at Cana, and even in Paul’s references to the church as “brothers and sisters,” the family is regarded as fundamental. Its actions can be moral or immoral,

as Scripture also testifies, and a family cannot exist independent of other authorities, notably the church. Still, the family has authority in its sphere of action. The choosing of children is surely part of this sphere.

Whatever we do regarding population should honor families and their authority. We can begin with basic justice: treating families of poor countries as we would want to be treated ourselves. I have wondered: What would be the reaction of American Christians if, one day, ordinary contraceptives were outlawed? What if the young couple on their honeymoon, the middle-aged couple working through menopause, the thirty-something couple with three children pondering four, simply could not get diaphragms, pills, vasectomies? We would consider it an offense against our ability to plan family life.

We ought, then, to consider it good for these gifts, which enable us to extend God’s blessing of dominion into our own family life, to be available to people around the world. We should unabashedly support family planning when it is done with respect and care for human dignity. Surveys suggest that there are millions of families around the world who lack the access to birth-control methods that they would like.

I have also wondered: How would we like it if each state, county, town of our own nation was given a population target? What if that goal worked its way into neighborhoods and into doctors practices, such that a couple received phone calls asking about their plans for offspring, a woman with two children was invited to meetings that urged her to be sterilized, and a third pregnancy was officially questioned? We would consider that, too, an offense against our ability to plan family life.

We ought to be wary, then, of statistical targets, and any program that begins with the assumption that government knows best.

Human beings have, each one, an irreducible value. We cannot in any way view humanity as a pest species. When I lived in Kenya, which had at that time the highest birth rate in the world, I had a conversation with a university-educated friend of mine about children. My wife and I had just had our first child, and we wanted to know whether breast-feeding in public would offend people.

“No,” our friend said. “In fact, it would be good. People would be surprised that you want to be so close to the baby.”

“Why would that surprise them?” I asked.

“Well, you know, we tend to think that white people don’t like children.

“But why would you think that?”

He thought a while. “Maybe because you people brought birth control, and since you don’t want to have children, you probably don’t like them.”

In a certain way, Kenyans are correct. We do not like children to inconvenience us. We do not like them to disrupt our careers or our marriages or our financial plans. We do not like them, then, in the way most Kenyans do. For Kenyans, as far as I can understand it, babies are just good. They are, at a fundamental, unexplainable, nonfunctional level, filled with blessing.

That Kenyan attitude is not far from Scripture’s. Certainly God loves us not because we are convenient or useful to him, but because we are.

Since humans are created in the image of God, and since God sent his only Son to save them, we know that humans are to be loved. That puts some population positions out of bounds. We cannot, like the Chinese government, abuse and harass individuals because their personal hopes for family conflict with the

bureaucracy’s plans. Each baby should be welcomed into the world, even if he is poor -- especially if he is poor. We must resist the kind of mentality that treats people as units or numbers or “problems.” Family planning should be an exercise in love, not fear.

A filled earth is God’s intended blessing. God’s first words to humanity were, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish of the ,sea and the birds of the air and over every living creature that moves on the ground” (Gen. 1:28).

The first of these overlapping callings, “Be fruitful and multiply,” is sometimes seen as a straightforward endorsement of a growing population. But it is not, really, quite that; it has to be understand in its context, following after an identical blessing to the sea creatures and the birds (Gen. 1:22). They, too, are to be fruitful and multiply. “Increasingly we people are occupying the land to the exclusion and extinction of the other creatures,” Calvin DeWitt writes in his foreword to Susan Power Bratton’s “Six Billion and More”. “This leads us to ask, Does our God-given blessing of stewardship of creation grant us license to deny creatures God’s blessing of fruitfulness and fulfillment?’”

Clearly, no. Filling the earth, subduing it, and ruling over its creatures can be and should be in harmony with other creatures. That is how God intended it, for one blessing will not cancel out another. The story of Noah

further shows God’s concern for the animals’ existence, and humanity’s agency in preserving them. All creatures are meant to be blessed -- to be fruitful and multiply -- together.

Is there, then, a limit to our “fruitfulness”? At the CHRISTIANITY TODAY conference on population, Calvin DeWitt held out an empty glass and had a participant pour it full of water. “Keep pouring,” he said, while the glass overflowed onto the carpet. “Keep pouring.” He was making the point that “filling” implies a limit, and that “overfilling” is something else again.

Some have said, tongue in cheek, that the command to fill the earth is the only one that humanity ever fully obeyed.

That implies, however, a one-time, completed obedience. “Filling the earth” is, in fact, an ongoing process. History shows that humanity has filled the earth many times -- at many different levels of population. In fact, all known history shows humanity filling the earth, while our population grows larger and larger. That is because humanity, unlike all other creatures, transforms the earth so it supports more of our numbers and evidences more of our creativity. An analogy perhaps closer to the truth -- and more astonishing -- would be a thimble, which, when filled, becomes a cup, which becomes a tumbler, which becomes a pitcher brimming full.

At one time in prehistory, anthropologists say, humans had spread to virtually every part of the globe -- something no other species can do -- and the earth could barely support their hunting and gathering.

Then came a greater role for agriculture -- a development driven, some believe, by the population pressure of a full earth. “None of the major human cultural and intellectual achievements,” Clive Ponting comments in his Green History of the World, “would have been possible without the development of agriculture, and a food surplus capable of supporting artists, builders, architects, priests, philosophers and scientists.” Humans learned how to subdue the natural processes of plants and animals, to bring their rhythms

into harmony with ours. A thousand subsequent inventions -- driven, some say, by population pressures -- made agriculture more productive.

The Industrial Revolution represented another huge, multifaceted leap in the power of humanity to fill the earth. Malthus, who predicted misery because human numbers would always increase faster than food production, had the great misfortune to prophesy just as this great transformation began. Food -- and every other human product -- greatly outstripped population, even as population grew far faster than ever before.

Then, for no obvious reason, population growth slowed or stopped wherever the Industrial Revolution had progressed -- first in Europe, then in America. People could have continued to increase-they had food. No government forced, or even encouraged, people to stop having children. No modern birth-control methods were available when lower birth rates first began. Once again, in Western societies, at least, the earth was filled.

A filled earth is not an unambiguous blessing. It has brought with it many careless and callous deeds as human power and presence has increased. Nevertheless, Genesis makes clear that, from the beginning, human presence and dominion were meant to be part of God’s blessings for his creation. God’s intent is that the earth become a garden. We tend to conceive of human endeavors as inevitably in conflict with the rest of creation, particularly with those elements that are wild. This habit of thought is particularly characteristic of Americans, who live with such ugly urban sprawl and glorious wilderness. Surely, we think, God’s world should be more like Yellowstone than Los Angeles.

There are other vistas to be scan, however. On my way to and from India, I traveled across Holland by train -- crisscrossing the country, thinking and talking about population. Holland is one of the most densely populated nations on earth -- more densely populated than India, than China, even than Japan. It is also beautiful. The train shoots by green velvet fields, neat woods, canals, farms, towns, and small cities. I saw lovely orderliness, the signs of care, everywhere in the land.

Nowhere in this full country does it seem crowded. Holland remains a farming nation, and almost everywhere you go you are near the fields. The Netherlands is the world’s third-largest exporter of agricultural product, I was told.

“God made the world, but the Dutch made Holland,” an old quip has it. Holland is the premium example of nature transformed, the way in which humans change their environment as surely as birds build nests. Half of Holland is on land once under water.

Yet the Dutch still place a premium on untrampled space. ‘“We know that wilderness is relative,” Henk Jochemsen, a Christian ethicist, told me, “but we know we need a certain wildness without making an absolute of a specific situation.” Possessing such a tiny, full land, the Dutch are aware that wilderness is something they must plan. They do, taking scrupulous care of their woods and wetlands.

“There are... wild woods and mountains, marshes and heaths, even in England,” Aldous Huxley wrote. “But they are there only on sufferance, because we have chosen, out of our good pleasure, to leave them their freedom.” Today that is true everywhere in the world, not merely in Holland. Humans have dominion.

We have not done our best by this transformation. Still, the transformation of the earth remains a blessing in God’s intention. Wilderness, in the old, wild form, was not friendly to humankind. The word wilderness occurs scores of times in the Bible, and most of the meanings are derogatory. Sometimes, oddly, the Old Testament judgment of a land sounds like a conservationist’s dream, Calvin Beisner points out, such as Isaiah 34:11-15: “The desert owl and screech owl will possess it; the great owl and the raven will nest

there,” it begins, describing the utter lack of human inhabitants. To Isaiah, it was a curse, not a blessing.

But the word garden is always positive in Scripture: it reflects the caring attention of humans. Holland is like a garden, suggesting the possibility of true harmony between humans and the rest of creation. Of course, there are many kinds of garden: Wyoming can be one, and Holland another. Gardens can include territory and creatures that are quite wild. It is for us, the gardeners, to ensure the most harmonious way for God’s creation to flourish.

Still, humans have shown, repeatedly, their potential for savagery. On this beautiful planet, “filling” may sometimes seem unblessed, but we must find the way to make the blessing show. The way is not through less dominion, but through more loving dominion.

In tending and caring for our disordered garden, we must see that its beauty and usefulness are preserved and increased. We must ensure that its creatures, both plant and animal, have space and conditions to flourish. And we must make sure that the human creature, in his creative rule, also has space and conditions to flourish.

(continued in #3724)

RACING DOWN THE RIVER OBSERVATION Someone once said, "True freedom is not a question of doing as we like, but doing as we ought." RACING DOWN THE RIVER Clovis Chappell, a nineteenth century minister, used to tell an interesting story about two paddleboats. The two boats, powered by coal, left Memphis about the same time, traveling down the Mississippi River to New Orleans. As they traveled side-by-side, sailors from one vessel made some critical remarks and jokes about the snail's pace of the other boat. Heated words were exchanged between the men on the two boats. Challenges were made. So the race began. The competition was hot and heavy as the two boats roared through the Deep South. Eventually, one boat began falling behind. The problem: it didn't have enough fuel. There had been plenty of coal for the trip, but not enough for a race. As the boat dropped back, an enterprising young sailor took some of the ship's cargo and tossed it into the boat's ovens. When his fellow sailors saw that the supplies burned as well as coal, they fueled their boat with the material they had been assigned to transport. Guess what? They ended up winning the race. But they burned their cargo. HOW DOES THIS APPLY TO OUR LIVES? The men on the winning boat did what they liked, which was winning the race. But the price for that victory was expensive. The boat's cargo, the very reason they were traveling down the river in the first place, was sacrificed. So they failed to do what they ought to have done, which was to safely transport their cargo. You may not have thought about it, but God has entrusted each of us with cargo. Our cargo is other people, such as friends and family, and the ability He has given us to help someone else. We are responsible for this cargo, and ought to cherish it in our journey through life. However, like the men on the winning boat, often we fail in that responsibility. As Billy Graham says, "We hurt people by being too busy. Too busy to notice their needs. Too busy to drop that note of comfort or encouragement or assurance of love. Too busy to listen when someone needs to talk. Too busy to care." Are you too busy to care? When opportunities occur to help others, do you take advantage of those opportunities? Or do you burn your cargo as you busily do what you like? Be diligent, and do what you ought to do. Slow down for the needs of your family and friends. Seize opportunities to help people when it is within your power to do so. Finally, remember one other cargo God has entrusted to you. It is the Good News of Jesus Christ. Diligently share that Good News with others, and help people who are using their gifts for Christ reach even more people. Your diligence with the cargo God has given you will be very rewarding. "The plans of the diligent lead to profit as surely as haste leads to poverty." \reference{Proverbs 21:5}{Proverbs 21:5}

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JUDGING THE FRUITS

A farmer one time invited a friend to come to his orchard and gather some apples. The friend declined and explained by saying, "I passed your orchard and picked up one of the apples that had fallen over the fence, and I never tasted anything so sour in all of my life. I don't care for that kind of fruit."

The farmer answered his friend saying, "Those trees around the outside are for the benefit of the boys passing by. I went fifty miles to select the sourest apples I could find to plant around the edge so they might give them up as not worth stealing. But if you come inside, you will find that we grow a very different quality. They are sweet as honey."

Those who judge the church by its members (those hanging around the edge), who are most like the world, attend irregularly, complain, and talk down the church, make the same mistake. There is a much different fruit on the inside (the faithful and dedicated), that which is good and sincere. Come on in and see.

Sermon series on Colossians. Colossians 1:9-14

LIVE WORTHILY

=============

I. What do you wish for?

II. First request - they would be filled with knowledge of God's will.

A. Creating an environment of clear direction from God.

III. Second request - they would live worthily.

A. The way you live matters to God.

B. How can we please God?

IV. Four elements of a God-pleasing life.

A. Fruitfulness in every good work. 1:10

B. Growth in knowledge of God. 1:10

C. Strengthened with God's power. 1:11

D. Gratitude to God for blessings of redemption. 1:12-14

V. There are only two realms.

*

A couple of years ago, I was discussing Genesis 1:28 with a group of Christians when one ventured the opinion that the part about being fruitful and multiplying was well taken care of. With over six billion people on earth, and counting, we were plenty crowded.

At that point, I remembered an amazing statistic I'd read over a decade earlier in the pages of Harper's Magazine. The item concerned the space in which you could fit everybody if you bunched them up. I won't tell you what it was right off since I want you to guess.

Last fall, I preached through Genesis, and once again, I came upon that verse. Early in one sermon, I pulled out a tape measure and marked a square yard on the floor. Then I called four college men forward to stand in that square, which they did comfortably. Then I asked the people to pick a geographical locale which all 6.4 billion folks on earth would fill if gathered together, four per square yard.

Go ahead, guess. Perhaps you could pick a state....

OK. I'll tell you. You couldn't even fill a state with them. Using my atlas, the closest I could come up with was the Hawaiian island of Maui, but I wasn't totally happy with that since you would still have room for around another billion people on the island. I've done a little more checking, and have found that Oahu is closer, but still too big. So are the city limits of Houston. Yes, you could put the entire world into Houston.

Let's do the math. How many square yards are there in a square mile? You have 1,760 on a side, so multiply 1,760 by 1,760, the same way you would get nine square feet in a square yard by multiplying three by three. Use a calculator if you must. The answer is 3,097,600 square yards in a square mile. Then multiply by four, since we are putting four people in each square yard. You get 12,390,400 people per square mile. Chances are your town is a least one square mile in area. Did you know you could squeeze over 12 million people into it?

Now divide 12,390,400 into 6.4 billion to see how many square miles it would take to hold everybody. The answer is 532.67 square miles, or 533 rounded off. That's about a 23-mile square. Houston's area is 596 square miles, so you'd have an extra 60 square miles, room for another three-quarters of a billion or so.

If you spread out, giving each person his own square yard and a folding chair, you could just about seat everyone in Delaware. If you gave everyone ten square yards (a 30-foot square, or 900 square feet -- a small apartment), you could fit all 6.4 billion people into Texas.

The point is simple. We've got room. Don't let the fear of overcrowding discourage you. And even if things get tight with unbelieving families, we could always use more Christian parents raising Christian kids, should they be saved.

I once asked two Christian college classes of about 40 each whether they thought that, if they married, they had a basic duty to try to have some kids. I don't think I got more than one or two hands total. They did believe that the “exercise dominion” part of Genesis 1:28 still applied, but they thought that procreation was a matter of moral indifference, like choosing romaine over iceberg lettuce at the grocery store.

How odd that they would think God gave them such marvelous reproductive capacities, commissioned their use, repeatedly celebrated children in Scripture, and then said it was no big deal if they made nothing of it. How can this be? Several reasons, I suppose. I do believe that the “zero population growth” hysterics have taken their toll. Careerism and materialism get much of the credit, too. Children take time and money. Biblical illiteracy is also a factor. But I think that overall, it's a matter of shunning things which might cramp our style. Well, God can be a major style-cramper when that style is sub-Christian.

Am I saying we should dismiss all contraception? No. I don't see a moral obligation to use every God-given capacity to the max. I have the capacity to sing, but I don't sing myself hoarse every day. But if I never sang to the glory of God, I should be ashamed of myself.

Certainly, there are those who are called to singleness. Of course, there are reasons for couples to delay or interrupt child-bearing. But the burden of justification before God always rests upon the willfully childless.

Besides, kids are great. A challenge, yes, but a blessing (see, for instance, Psalm 127:3-5). It's interesting to read the late-in-life reflections of those who have chosen career over family. They often draw their satisfaction from the impact they had on a few key lives. An architecture professor savors the work of one of his star pupils, a lawyer remembers an innocent prisoner he helped free, a stock broker recalls the kid who went to an expensive school because the father's investment portfolio was fruitful.

But what about cutting to the chase and impacting key lives directly from their moment of conception? Now, that's a career move.

________

Mark Coppenger is pastor of Evanston (Illinois) Baptist Church and distinguished professor of apologetics at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, Kentucky. Reprinted from the Illinois Baptist newsjournal.

Food Spoilage Test: When something starts pecking its way out of the shell, the egg is probably past its prime.

This is Labor Day, and you will probably enjoy a day of leisure. We hope you have a very enjoyable day.

The word “labor” (“labour” in KJV) appears a number of times in the Bible, notably in Ps. 128:2 (NLT). “You will enjoy the fruit of your labor. How happy you will be! How rich your life.” Yes, a life that is busy with creativity and useful activity is a rich life — maybe not in money but in ways that are worth more than money.

God didn’t make us to be bored! He made us to be effective workers because He knows that working with mind and hand brings joy to our life and glory to Him. 1 Cor, 15:58 (NIV), “… Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.”

Will the world soon experience a return of patriarchy? That is the question raised by Phillip Longman in the current issue of FOREIGN POLICY.

The magazine's cover features a rather stunning headline: “Why Men Rule -- and Conservatives Will Inherit the Earth.” That headline would be surprising in almost any contemporary periodical, but it is especially significant that this article should appear in the pages of FOREIGN POLICY, published by the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace. The publication of this article is likely to set a good many heads to spinning.

Phillip Longman is Bernard L Schwartz Senior Fellow at the New America Foundation. He is a well-respected author and researcher, whose books have included THE EMPTY CRADLE: HOW FALLING BIRTHRATES THREATEN WORLD PROSPERITY AND WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT (2004). In his previous works, Longman has projected how falling birthrates throughout advanced societies will lead to financial, political, social, and demographic decline.

In this new article, he presses his argument to the next stage -- announcing the return of patriarchy -- the concept of male leadership -- as essential to a recovery of higher birthrates and reproduction.

“With the number of human beings having increased more than sixfold in the past 200 years, the modern mind simply assumes that men and women, no matter how estranged, will always breed enough children to grow the population -- at least until plague or starvation sets in,” Longman explains.

“Yet, for more than a generation now, well-fed, healthy, peaceful populations around the world have been producing too few children to avoid population decline. That is true even though dramatic improvements in infant and child mortality mean that far fewer children are needed today (only about 2.1 per woman in modern societies) to avoid population loss. Birthrates are falling far below replacement levels in one country after the next -- from China, Japan, Singapore, and South Korea, to Canada, the Caribbean, all of Europe, Russia, and even parts of the Middle East.”

Throughout human history, a persistent fall in birthrates has served as a harbinger of cultural decline and a warning of cultural collapse. The reasons for this are many, but center in the fact that the cause of falling birthrates is often a loss of social cohesion and confidence and the effect of falling reproduction rates is a decline in economic prosperity and erosion of the social structure.

Put simply, a significant fall in birthrates means that, in the next generation, there will be fewer workers, parents, consumers, and contributors to the common welfare. As societies age, a greater percentage of the population tends toward the older end of the age spectrum -- representing greater dependency and less economic contribution.

As Longman explains, many countries have attempted to address falling birthrates with aggressive encouragement for couples to have multiple children. Singapore offers “speed dating” events to citizens, intended to encourage young people to marry and have children. In Europe, the government often seeks to incentivize children by offering tax incentives and state-financed daycare systems.

In the end, these efforts seldom work. “As governments going as far back as imperial Rome have discovered, when cultural and economic conditions discourage parenthood, not even a dictator can force people to go forth and multiply,” Longman observes. “Throughout the broad sweep of human history, there are many examples of people, or classes of people, who chose to avoid the costs of parenthood. Indeed, falling fertility is a recurring tendency of human civilization. Why then did humans not become extinct long ago? The short answer is patriarchy.”

Longman's short answer is sure to attract attention and spark controversy. His very use of the word “patriarchy” will set many teeth on edge. After all, the elimination of patriarchy has been one of the central goals of the feminist movement. According to feminist ideology -- shared by vast segments of the population -- is that patriarchy represents the institutionalized form of male domination. Therefore, the liberation of humanity from the last vestiges of patriarchy has been a central feminist goal.

Nevertheless, Longman argues that the return of patriarchy is almost assured, given the social crisis that will be produced by a catastrophic fall in birthrates.

“Patriarchy does not simply mean that men rule,” Longman explains. “Indeed, it is a particular value system that not only requires men to marry but to marry a woman of proper station. It competes with many other male visions of the good life, and for that reason alone is prone to come in cycles.”

Longman understands the simple fact that a great deal of cultural capital is required in order to encourage young men to marry and men of all ages to fulfill responsibilities as husbands and fathers. The normative picture of the “good life” for men, at least as presented in the dominant media culture, does not include the comprehensive responsibilities of fatherhood. When men are not stigmatized for failure to be faithful as husbands and fathers, young men will take marriage and parenthood with little significance, as many will avoid marriage and fatherhood altogether.

To some extent, the statistics tell the story. Almost twenty percent of women born in the late 1950s are nearing the end of their reproductive lives without ever having had children. Longman's assessment is blunt: “The greatly expanded childless segment of contemporary society, whose members are drawn disproportionately from the feminist and countercultural movements of the 1960s and 70s, will have no genetic legacy.”

Beyond this, the falling birthrate contributes to many other social ills. “Falling fertility is also responsible for many financial and economic problems that dominate today's headlines,” Longman asserts. “The long-term financing of social security schemes, private pension plans, and health-care systems has little to do with people living longer.... Instead, the falling ratio of workers to retirees is overwhelmingly caused by workers who were never born.”

The effects within the society are psychological as well as demographic, political, and financial. As Longman understands, declining birthrates can also affect what he calls “national temperament.” He attributes the fact that the American voting population has become more conservative in recent years to anxiety over falling birthrates. Beyond this, we must now add the fact that millions of voters, who would have been raised by more liberal parents, were simply never born.

For some, the political dynamic will attract the greatest interest. “Among states that voted for President George W. Bush in 2004, fertility rates are 12 percent higher than in states that voted for Senator John Kerry,” Longman reports. That statistic is nothing less than shocking. A twelve percent differential in data like this is highly significant and troubling. Looking to the future, Longman projects a “demographically driven transformation” of many cultures. “As has happened many times before in history, it is a transformation that occurs as secular and libertarian elements in society fail to reproduce, and as people adhering to more traditional, patriarchal values inherit society by default,” Longman argues.

But, why is patriarchy so important? Longman answers that question with great care. “Patriarchal societies come in many varieties and evolve through different stages,” he explains. “What they have in common are customs and attitudes that collectively serve to maximize fertility and parental investment in the next generation.”

A culture of patriarchy directs men to their responsibilities as husbands and fathers. Men who fail in these responsibilities are seen as inferior to those who are both faithful and effective. Furthermore, a patriarchal structure holds men accountable for the care, protection, discipline, and nurture of children. In such a society, irresponsibility in the tasks of parenthood is seen as a fundamental threat to civilization itself.

Longman quotes feminist economist Nancy Folbre, who observed: “Patriarchal control over women tends to increase their specialization in reproductive labor, with important consequences for both the quantity and the quality of their investments in the next generation.” As Longman explains, “Those consequences arguably include: more children receiving more attention from their mothers, who, having few other ways of finding meaning in their lives, become more skilled at keeping their children safe and healthy.”

Clearly, decisions about reproduction are made in connection with many other decisions and priorities in life. Research conclusively indicates that a couple's ideological commitments are correlated to reproduction. Longman summarizes the data this way: “The great difference in fertility rates between secular individualists and religious or culture conservatives augurs a vast, demographically driven change in Western societies.”

Longman understands that his proposal will be controversial. After all, many persons associate patriarchy with either male superiority or brutal misogyny. Longman understands that these are exceptions rather than the rule. Pointing to the patriarchal excesses of Taliban rebels or Muslim fanatics in Nigeria, Longman states: “Yet these are examples of insecure societies that have degenerated into male tyrannies, and they do not represent the form of patriarchy that has achieved evolutionary advantage in human history. Under a true patriarchal system, such as in early Rome or 17th century Protestant Europe, fathers have strong reason to take an active interest in the children their wives bear. That is because, when men come to see themselves, and are seen by others, as upholders of a patriarchal line, how those children turn out directly affects their own rank and honor.”

Longman's logic comes down to this -- men are far more likely to assume and fulfill these responsibilities if the society values the role of fathers as leaders in the home, as breadwinners, and as protectors of the larger family structure and of civilization itself.

A truly Christian response to this argument must go further than cultural concerns alone can sustain. In the biblical vision, patriarchs establish a trans-generational vision for their families, looking to generations beyond with the promise that the father will give himself to the task of fatherhood and leadership in order to perpetuate the promise and establish the line.

Beyond this, Christians should understand that the Bible reveals a form of patriarchy as the norm -- with men called to lead within the marital union and the family, as well as the church.

The publication of this article within the pages of FOREIGN POLICY should send a very clear cultural signal. Something serious is afoot when one of the nation's most influential journals directed at questions of foreign policy takes up the return of patriarchy, especially among conservative Christians, as an issue of major consideration. Throughout his article, Longman is careful to argue for what he observes, rather than what he may or may not advocate. His verdict is clear -- societies that follow a patriarchal pattern tend to reproduce at a higher rate and advance, while those who devalue the role and responsibilities of men as fathers find themselves in decline.

The very fact that this argument has now found its way into the pages of a journal like FOREIGN POLICY represents a genuine cultural development. Where this leads is yet unclear, but signs point to Longman's thesis being proved right.

Every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it. — John 15:2.

The saddest picture in our modern world is that of a Christian who has tasted “the preciousness of Christ,” but who is not useable or expendable for Christ because of an idol in the heart. The heavenly husbandman who comes year after year looking for fruit in such a life, but finding none, may one day cut it down under divine chastisement. What a privilege to be pruned of Him that there shall be fruit glorifying to His Name. — E. B. Hart.

Ours are peace and joy divine, who are one with Christ,

When — like branches in the vine — we abide in Christ

As a living grafted shoot

Nourished from a hidden root,

Clusters grow on every branch, through the love of Christ.

Pruned to bear all holy fruit through the love of Christ.

I saw the funniest thing meditating on Scripture today. Remember the parable of the sower? Some seed fell on good soil, some on rocky soil, etcetera? The funny thing was that all the seed fell on dirt – which is a picture of us! The life was only in the seed, not in the dirt.

God formed Adam from the dust of the Earth. If you could straight-faced ever call anyone a “dirtball,” Adam would be it. I used to wonder why the Lord didn’t name him Clay! He was lifeless until the Father kissed him and breathed life into him. In the same way we are only unanimated dirt till the seed of the Word of God comes and makes us alive inside. It is the Spirit that gives life; the flesh profits nothing, unless you’re a fan of mud pies.

The seed has life but can grow or not grow depending on the condition, and vigilant maintenance, of the soil. We’re only the dirt. God has to provide the life for anything to grow. It’s funny that the seed is always good but the condition of the soil determines how, and if, the seed will germinate and ultimately bare fruit.

God comes to us hungry for fruit. If you planted an apple tree, wouldn’t it be reasonable to eventually want to feast on the apples, the fruition of your labors? We are the garden of the Lord. He plants His seed (the living Word of God) within us with the purpose of growing the image of Christ in us, all the while conforming us to that image. He is hungry for the fruit of the Spirit to germinate, bud, blossom, and finally mature to sweetness.

When the Lord comes to commune with you, does He walk away hungry or satisfied? We are invited to taste and see that the Lord is good. What does He taste in your spirit? Are you sweet oranges and mangos to His taste buds, or sour, bitter lemons? Does He taste within you the sweet manna of Heaven or barren, wormy, inedible dirt?

When God sows His Eternal Word into our hearts, He does it with an eventual harvest in mind. He sows His word to reap an Eternal Harvest from among men. What kind of crop is He getting in you? As I stated earlier, the seed is good. How it grows all depends on the condition of the soil.

I think it wonderful that we are the dirt. No one has bragging rights in the Kingdom, and the more you walk with God, the more obvious that becomes. I get a giggle when I think that He knew me before I was born and, in spite of His foreknowledge of my sin, warts, and failures, still chose me! God wants to spend forever with a guy like me! He saw a lonely little barren “dirtball” and decided to invest His life in me.

Is it any wonder that the Cross was planted into the dirt of the Earth and the precious blood of the Lamb flowed down for our healing and forgiveness?

God breathed into Adam and he became a living soul; when He breathes into us, we become sons of the living God. My honest opinion on why the Lord chose the dust of the Earth from which to form us is because it is the one thing lower than a serpent’s belly. God commanded the serpent of old to crawl in the dust, the stuff that God animated with life and exalted to His very Throne! We “dirtballs,” animated with the life of God, shall rule and reign with Almighty God forever! We were made of the one thing lower than the devil and I sense he resents that. Good!

We all start as dirt in the Kingdom. If you’ve fallen by the wayside, ask the Holy Spirit to “plow up the fallow ground” within you that there might be fruit in the Kingdom. Fallow ground is land that was once fruitful but has lain dormant and untilled and needs a good plowing before it can receive seed to again produce fruit. As God begins to reveal hard, rocky places (strongholds) where you are not producing the fruit of the Spirit, yield to Him and ask Him to deliver you and “heal your land” until you can shine forth the image of the Son of God in your soul.

God would have us fruitful. When a beautiful tree whose branches are straining to hold the sweet fruit it has grown is before you, who notices the dirt? You only see the fruit and that is where God is taking you if you will only walk with Him.

Be fruitful and multiply

Have you been watching the buds open their eyes these spring days? They seem to have come out just to see what is going on in this wonderful world. Their number is increasing daily, but if you had put your ear close to the first and tiniest bud of spring, it would have whispered: “I am a hint of what all buds will be when waked out of their wintry sleep.” Will not the children sing for joy when the daisies come? Well, if you could somehow find the first daisy that peeps through the sod, it would say: “I am a sample of what the daisy harvest will be when Mother Summer has drest us all up in robes of gold.” On the brow of a certain hill, I once enjoyed more than a passing acquaintance with a June apple-tree. I used to watch for the coming of its fruit as they that watch for the morning. Now, there was a tradition that June apples were not good until they fell of their own accord. Sometimes, in spying out the land, I would find only one apple upon the ground. Of course, one apple to a growing boy is little more than a delusion and a snare, and it required more than Eve-like fortitude not to shake the tree. But after these many years, what I remember most of all is the taste of that one first apple. Precious in itself and very scarce, so it seemed to me, still it told of the good times coming when its luscious, juicy brothers would yield up their secrets, too.

— F. F. SHANNON