The Fruits of the Spirit
“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance.”” — GAL. v. 22, 23,
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THAT a strange order do these fruits of the Spirit follow; I would have expected the crudes clusters to be at the beginning and the ripest at the end. But here the order seems to be the reverse; it appears as if the ripest came first and the crudest afterwards. There are three clusters on this tree of life. The earliest is the highest — the nearest to the sky; it is ‘love, joy, peace.” The second is lower; it is nearer to the earth, and it has been affected by the earthly shadows. Exaltation has been succeeded by the need for self-restraint — “long-suffering, gentleness, goodness.” The latest is the lowest of all; it has altogether touched the earth and is in full conflict with its shadows. The need for self-restraint has deepened into the necessity for self-renunciation, and the waiting called “long-suffering” has become the storm and stress of battle — “faith, ‘meekness, temperance.” ‘QO what a fall was there!” is our spontaneous cry. What a leap from love to temperance, from the glow of the heart to the mere holding in of the reins. Why has the summer come first and the winter afterwards? why have the fruits of the Spirit not followed the order of the year?
They have, my brother, thy last stage is here thy ripest. The love that can sing in the summer air is beautiful, but the meekness that can inherit the earth is more beautiful still. It is more beautiful because it needs more love. Canst thou sing in the summer air? it is well, but the lark can do the same. Thy Father demands of thee a love song more glorious than the lark’s — a song that can ascend from the winter and the valleys. He wants a song that can rise up to Him from the snows of earth, from the mist, and the cold, and the depression of the life of common day. He wants a praise that can issue from hearts chat have been tried by sorrow, a love that has been born not of sight but of faith, a psalm that has been “rolled to wintry skies” by lips that have been taught by restraining meekness to say, “Thy will be done.” Wilt thou give Him this love? wilt thou send Him this song? wilt thou sing like the swallow in the cold ere yet it is more than spring? Then shall the latest cluster of thy tree be the most glorious of all, then shall the last offering of thy life be the ripest fruit of the Spirit, for love on the earth is better than love in the air, and the rest of tempered meekness is better than the peace of innocence.