Lawless

Lawless

Galatians 5:22-23

June 16, 2019 • Mount Pleasant UMC

Rick Hoyt was born in 1962 to Dick and Judy Hoyt, but at his birth, his umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck meaning he was deprived of oxygen for a long time. Doctors gave Rick no hope for a meaningful life, but his parents refused to listen. Instead, they nurtured him and cared for him and enrolled him in public school—and, against the odds, he graduated. Then he went to college and he graduated again. But at age 15, Rick had decided he wanted to run, and his father was determined to make it happen. Dick wasn’t a runner, but he became one. Take a listen to part of their story.

VIDEO: Team Hoyt

That video is a few years old now, but to date (according to their website), Dick and Rick have completed 72 marathons (including 32 Boston Marathons, Rick’s favorite race), 97 half-marathons, 257 triathlons, and a whole bunch of other races—totaling 1,130 events. In 1992, they biked and ran across the continental United States, covering 3,735 miles in 45 days. I did the math; that’s 83 miles a day! Rick Hoyt has to have his father do everything for him: lift him, push him, pedal him and tow him. His only contribution to the effort is a willing heart; everything else comes from the strength of his father (cf. Lucado, 3:16: The Numbers of Hope, pgs. 83-84).

On this Father’s Day, as we come to the end of our “Power Up" sermon series, I thought of the Hoyts’ story because to me it's a picture of what we've been talking about these past few weeks. We’ve been looking at the stories that our Vacation Bible School is going to learn this week, stories about Abram and Josiah and Jesus and the disciples, stories that have over and over again reminded us that we can't live this life of faith on our own. We need power from outside ourselves if we’re going to “raise our game” and live the life God has dreamed for us. The good news is that God our heavenly Father is ready and able to fill us with that power; all we have to provide is a willing heart. Last week, we talked specifically about how God the Father sends the Holy Spirit to live within us, to empower us for the life we're called to live. This morning, the passage we read has more to say about that idea, specifically what the Spirit wants to place in us, grow in us, so that we can show and share the love of Jesus with others. It’s called the “fruit of the Spirit,” and without it growing in us, our bottom line this week cannot come true. The bottom line is this: you can help others know God.

So we only read a couple of verses out of a much longer passage in which Paul is contrasting two kinds of life. One kind of life Paul calls “the flesh,” and by that he doesn’t mean just “physical flesh.” He’s actually contrasting two different mindsets, two worldviews. When he uses the word “flesh” in this passage, he’s talking about the desire we have to give into selfish, self-centered impulses, desires and gratification. In verse 14, he echoes Jesus who said that the whole of the Jewish law is summed up in a single command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” In other words, the struggle here is between putting ourselves first or seeing others as important and valuable as we are. It’s about far more than just physical stuff; this worldview encompasses our thoughts, words and deeds—mind, soul and body. He’s setting up a contrast of longevity, too. “The flesh” focuses on the here and now while “the Spirit” focuses on the long game, on what feels good for me versus what is good for the community (cf. deSilva, NICNT: The Letter to the Galatians, pg. 447). Sometimes it’s hard to see beyond the now, so Paul gives us a quick guide to knowing which is which.

Life according to the flesh looks like this, according to Paul: “sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy, drunkenness, orgies and the like” (5:19-21). So, this is not meant to be an exhaustive list. Paul didn’t intend us to think that these are the only evidences of life in the flesh; otherwise he would not have added “and the like” at the end. It’s also interesting to note the wide variety of sins and brokenness included in Paul’s representative list. We tend to rank some sins as “worse than others.” Did you ever notice how the “worst sin” is usually the one that you’re not participating in? “Oh, well, I only told a ‘little white lie,’ I didn’t do that other horrible thing!” Paul doesn’t give us a ranking; he includes orgies along with factions! He says envy is the same as sexual immorality and jealousy is right there alongside witchcraft. Our rankings have no place because the point is this: those who live in these ways are all giving into the worldview of the flesh. And, according to Paul, they “will not inherit the kingdom of God” (5:21).

But, Paul says, when we allow the Spirit to fill us, live in us, we are opened up to a whole new way of life, one that is beneficial for the community and better for our life. More than that, when the fruit of the Spirit grows in our lives, others are able to see Jesus in us. To help others know God, Paul says, live this way. So what is this fruit of the Spirit? First of all, the word “fruit” here is singular. It’s not “fruits” of the Spirit. It’s “fruit” of the Spirit. Why is that important? Because it means this is not the produce section at Kroger; you don’t get to pick and choose which fruit you want to have and which ones you don’t. It’s all one piece. If we allow the Spirit to live within us, he is going to grow all of these things in us. But this fruit is not something we can grow in ourselves. It’s not the “fruit of Dennis.” It’s the “fruit of the Spirit.” This is something God does in us. Just like Dick Hoyt runs for and with his son, God the Father through his Spirit will grow this fruit in us once we open ourselves to his work.

So what does this fruit look like? Paul gives nine aspects of the Spirit’s work in our lives, and each one of these could be a sermon in itself (maybe we’ll do that sometime) but this morning we only have time to look quickly at each one. Leading off the pack, as always, is love. The word there is agape. Agape was a word that contemporary writers in Paul’s world didn’t use a lot, maybe at least partly because it wasn’t seen all that much. Agape is self-giving, self-sacrificing love. It’s love that gives itself away which means it’s not a feeling. Agape is love that acts, always in the best interest of the others. That’s one of the reasons we struggle with this fruit today; we’ve forgotten what love is. We talk about it like it’s a feeling, a warmth that washes over you and makes your heart go pitter-patter. That works well for Hallmark movies, but it’s not the kind of love either God has in mind. It’s love that wants the best for the other person, even if that involves saying “no” to them. When your kids were little, sometimes the most loving thing you could do was to tell them “no.” No, don’t touch that hot stove. No, don’t stick your fingers in the wall plug. No, don’t run out into the street. And if we, as good fathers and mothers demonstrate love to our kids that way, why are we surprised when God does the same thing? Love is active; love gives itself for the sake of the others (deSilva 465-466).

Joy, in the ancient world, was understood as the goal of life. Joy is different from happiness. Happiness comes from circumstances. I can have a really good meal and be happy. Joy is deeper; joy comes from an inner confidence that life is good. For the believer, joy comes from knowing God’s friendship and experiencing the presence of the Holy Spirit. Early Christian writers defined it as “persistence under adverse conditions” (cf. deSilva 466; Borchert, “Galatians,” Cornerstone Biblical Commentary, Vol. 14, pg. 325). Again, this is not a feeling. It’s much deeper than that, which is why it’s something that only God can give us. Joy is seen in the person who has a terminal diagnosis and yet knows God can use even that. It’s seen in Dick Hoyt, running just to see the smile on his son’s face. It’s found in doing the right thing even when it’s not apparently advantageous. It’s seen in a man like Henri Nouwen, a well-respected theologian, author and teacher at Harvard University who, at the height of his career, left Harvard and moved to a community called Daybreak, near Toronto, a place for those with special needs. For the rest of his life, Nouwen ministered to young people like Adam who couldn’t speak, dress himself, or eat without assistance. Every morning, Nouwen dressed him, bathed him, cleaned his teeth, fed him breakfast, and got him in his wheelchair. In Adam, Nouwen learned joy that he had not found in his academic career (Yancey, I Was Just Wondering, pg. 90).

When we think of peace, we think of the absence of conflict, but peace, as Paul would have been thinking of it, is far deeper than that. Behind this word is the Hebrew idea of shalom. You may have heard that word as a greeting or a word of farewell, and we might do well to adopt that Jewish habit because it’s a powerful word. Shalom was a word that originally indicated you were welcome into the camp, into the community. There was “peace” between you and me. It is a word that indicates healing and restoration, the mending of something broken. Whereas all those things that Paul mentioned as “works of the flesh” bring brokenness into the community, “peace” or shalom brings wholeness and better relationships. Jesus said that peacemakers would be called “children of God” (cf. Matthew 5:9; deSilva 466; Borchert 325).

So what do we have so far in this bundle of fruit? Love, joy, peace—and next is forbearance in the NIV, or “patience” in many other translations. The original Greek word here was used in two main situations. If someone failed you, you would be considered “patient” if you responded gently toward that person. Or if someone offended you, you would be slow to respond with equal offense or with vengeance. In other words, that “patience” Paul is talking about here has to do with the preservation of relationships (deSilva 467), and boy do we ever need his word today! We live in a highly and easily-offended world. I’m constantly amazed at how easily we throw that word around today, especially in our interactions online. In the run-up to Annual Conference, I saw one discussion where someone stated their opinion on an issue and another person responded quickly, “You have offended me deeply. Good day.” No discussion, no conversation, no seeking to understand. I deeply appreciate the words of an elder statesman in our denomination. Dr. Maxie Dunnam, former president of Asbury Seminary and pastor for over sixty years. Maxie is 84 years old and marched with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. early on in his ministry. In the midst of his reflections on the last year or so in the church, he wrote, “Friends and lovers of the church can disagree without demonizing one another.” We can be like God, who is also described throughout the Bible as patient.

Pair that with kindness and you’ll begin to see why this is all one fruit, and not separate fruits. To exercise patience, certainly today, we need kindness. I don’t think I can describe kindness better than my friend David deSilva: Kindness is “the disposition to treat others well, to help them if possible, to be a harbor for them in the midst of a stormy life” (467). We’re going to talk more about this in a few weeks, but kindness is seen in the person who comes alongside you at a time of difficulty. It’s seen in a card in the mail when you’re having a difficult day, or a text of encouragement that comes just at the right moment. It’s the story I read years ago of a child who knew his neighbor’s wife had died, and so one afternoon he left behind his playthings and went over to the man’s porch. When the boy got home, his mother asked him, “What did you say to him?” The boy shrugged and said, “Nothing. I just helped him cry.”

Goodness is very similar, except the word used carries the overtones of generosity. Jesus once told a story about a “good” landowner, who hired men to work for him all throughout the day, promising to pay each of them “what is fair.” When they got to the end of the day, he began settling up with those who were hired last, and he gave each of them the coin that equaled a day’s wage, even though they had only worked an hour. When those who had worked all day received the same payment, they complained. We would too! The landowner reminded them that he paid them what he promised them, and then he asks this question: “Are you envious because I am generous?” (cf. Matthew 20:1-16). It’s the same word. The fruit of the Spirit involves generosity so that we might make life good for others (cf. deSilva 467; Borchert 326). This next week, the kids will be bringing in coins and other items for the mission projects that Ginger promotes during VBS. Their generosity is contagious and sometimes overwhelming. The staff will take part is some sort of semi-humiliating event at the end of the week not to draw attention to ourselves, but to celebrate the good that these kids are going to do because of their generosity. After all, the fruit of the spirit is generosity.

And the fruit of the spirit is faithfulness. This one is fairly self-explanatory—loyalty, reliability, trustworthiness. Faithfulness, when we see it in someone else, lets us know we can rely upon them, we can trust that what they say will come to pass. Most often, it seems, we know it by its opposite. I once worked with a person who would tell everyone in the organization exactly what they wanted to hear, even if it was different than what he just told someone else. Problem was, we talked to one another and we quickly came to realize that we could not count on this man’s word. We learned what faithfulness looked like by experiencing faithlessness. On the opposite end of the spectrum, faithfulness to me looks like my wife, who has gone with me through good and bad, sickness and health, poorer and richer, to Kentucky and all over the state of Indiana. To me, she is the very picture of faithfulness. No matter what happens, I know I can count on her and trust that what she says, she will do.

Gentleness often gets a bad rap; sometimes it has been translated as “meekness,” and that’s not a word with a positive image in today’s world. When we hear “meekness,” we picture the person who cowers in the corner or who is milquetoast in any confrontation. But gentleness is far from that. It is strength restrained, or to put it better, it is “proper restraint of anger or power, out of consideration for the other person” (deSilva 468). Again, this is something we need more of today! We talked a few weeks ago about how angry our culture is. Posts on social media, angry confrontations in public, politicians who can’t talk to each other without making accusations or calling names, families in crisis, even church people who get upset with each other over small things. Gentleness has to do with how we handle those times when we become angry, when something sets us off. Do we channel that anger or do we let it fly? If the Spirit is working within us, we channel that anger into something constructive, something life-giving, something community-building. Even when we need to express our anger, the Spirit helps us to do it in a way that is loving, caring and expresses our commitment to the other person.

Closing Paul’s list is self-control, perhaps the aspect of spiritual fruit we like the least! Self-control is a mastery of our desires, and it is the foundation for all of the rest of the fruit, because without self-control, it’s impossible to live out love, patience, gentleness and all the rest. Self-control means we have mastery over ourselves so that we can better live in community and better love others. It is engaging in habits, in disciplines, in what we might not like but what is good nonetheless (cf. deSilva 468). For instance, I don’t like exercise. I have said in the past I’m allergic to it. I mean, when I do it, I break out in a sweat—isn’t that a sign of an allergic reaction? I’d rather have a cookie than a crunch—unless it’s a Crunch bar! But when I went through my last heart surgery, I was prescribed to go to cardiac rehab, and do you know what cardiac rehab is? It’s exercise! So I went, and at the end of my 36 sessions, when I “graduated,” it would have been easy to quit. Did I mention I don’t like exercise? There are a lot of mornings when it would be easy to turn off the alarm, roll over and go back to sleep for a little while. But I don’t, because I want to be a disciplined person. So I do the hard thing (at least hard for me, I know some of you find exercise easy, even enjoyable, and I don’t understand you at all). But I get out of bed and I go exercise. Self-control. And occasionally I have a cookie on my way to cardiac rehab. (That is not self-control!)

So what I’ve tried to do this morning is to give a snapshot of the fruit of the spirit; there is, obviously, much more that could be said about each part of the fruit. But here’s Paul’s final word on the subject: “Against such things there is no law” (5:23). When we live this way, we become lawless—not in the sense of the old Wild West, where anything went. We become lawless in that the law has no hold over us. We will not be condemned by legal requirements because these things and this way of life aren’t prohibited by anyone or any government or any religious system (cf. Wright, Paul for Everyone: Galatians and Thessalonians, pg. 73). No law restricts goodness or kindness or joy. More than that, the disruptive effects of the life of the flesh will be gone; love really does conquer all. If we allow the fruit of the Spirit to grow in us, we will move closer to having life the way God intended it—the life that really is life.

A caution: the fruit of the Spirit is not something we “achieve” by more effort; it’s not something we can somehow summon up through our own strength. It’s not the Fruit of the Dennis or the Fruit of You. It’s the fruit of the Sprit, and it’s only as we surrender and let the Spirit work in us that the fruit can grow. That’s been the point of this whole series: if we’re going to “power up” and “raise our game,” it’s only going to happen as we surrender and allow God to work in and through us. That’s also the way others are going to come to know him, as they see him in you and me. It’s like this: I can’t swim. True story—52 years old and I sink really well but I can’t swim. Occasionally I can float, but not well, and it’s because I don’t trust that the water can hold me up. I know it can; I see other people swim, but something in my brain won’t allow me to trust the water. If I am going to be able to swim, I’m told, I have to surrender to the water. It’s the same with the Holy Spirit. If we’re going to see the fruit of the Spirit grow in our lives, we have to surrender. We have to stop trying to make it grow ourselves, stop relying on our own strength and our own pride and surrender to his work in our lives. When we do that, we will begin to see love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control. Fruit will be growing all over the place and others will see Jesus in you!

So, now, this morning, we’re on the edge of our annual Vacation Bible School. I’ve shared before, a couple of weeks ago in fact, that I came to know Christ during VBS, and so this is always an important week for me and I believe for the life of the church. It might be even more important for some of the kids who come this week and hear about Jesus for the first time, or maybe for some others for whom faith in Jesus makes sense for the first time. So I’m going to ask all those who are helping with VBS in any way to stand so we can pray for you. If there’s someone near you who’s standing, just reach out and gently touch them as we pray for them. We’re also going to pray for the kids who will come, and I’m going to ask you to pray as well this week that everyone who comes in these doors will know Jesus before they leave. So let’s pray.