(Biblical basis: Acts 2:1-11)
Even though I grew up on the farm and spent a lot of time in our large gardens planting and hoeing the rows of potatoes and other vegetables, I’m not really a gardener. I’m not that committed. But in recent years my interest has been increasing, in particular with tomatoes.
I have had mixed success with tomatoes. About 9 years ago I built a special planter for them on the southwest corner of the house. I figured that was a good spot — lots of sun, lots of warmth. The first year was great: we had such a crop of tomatoes that I spent many hours picking, washing, and finding various ways to prepare and enjoy them. We had so much that I began making tomato sauce for pasta. I actually came up with a recipe and a method that produced a sauce that became world famous (at least in my family).
The second year’s crop wasn’t too bad either. But it kind of tapered off for a year or two — not sure why. And then a new problem: some of the tomatoes were ruined by rats or perhaps squirrels coming along and taking bites out of them. So I had to build a cage around the planter to protect the plants and their fruit.
And then, about three or four years ago, another thing. Our tomato plants looked like they were doing really well – they produced lots of blossoms – but they didn’t go any further; the blossoms were not turning into fruit. When I mentioned this among the people of Peace Lutheran Church in Abbotsford, where I was serving an interim ministry at the time, several people chimed in immediately: “You have to shake the plants.” What?! Shake the plants?!
Tomatoes are self-pollinating. Each flower contains both male and female parts. In order to self-pollinate, the flower must vibrate or shake. This is usually done by the breeze or by the activities of bees buzzing at the blossoms. But sometimes nature needs a helping hand from the gardener. Hence the shaking.
Equipped with this and other gardening advice, this year we’re looking forward to a healthy tomato patch that will produce bountiful fruit (yes, tomato is actually a fruit, not a vegetable).
On the church’s Day of Pentecost it might seem little odd to speak of fruit in the same sentence as the Spirit. Because of the sheer power and mystery of God’s Spirit, it might seem more appropriate to speak of extraordinary visions, unearthly voices, and inexplicable drama – or signs and wonders, as the New Testament witnesses put it.
But those same New Testament witnesses inevitably talk about fruit when they speak of the Holy Spirit. And that’s because of Pentecost.
Pentecost was originally an agricultural festival, a celebration of the harvest. Coming 50 days after Passover, it was all about giving thanks for God’s redemptive act of liberating the people from slavery in Egypt and bringing them to the Promised Land. God had promised that their new home would be fertile, that it would produce a rich harvest. Indeed, when weather conditions were favourable, the Promised Land was truly bountiful.
So, in acknowledgement for divine faithfulness, God’s people held this great festival to thank God and to celebrate. Hence the language and images of fruit. Or, more broadly, the harvest.
God always was and still is committed to the harvest. God intends good for all people, and therefore ensures that there is a harvest from the soil, the forest, the lakes and the seas, and even from the air. God is the God of creation.
God is also the God of redemption. God sent the only beloved Son, Jesus Christ, to sow the crop by his life-changing teaching, by his welcome to the righteous and the sinners alike, by his insistent gathering of them all at his table – all expressions of his unmerited, unearned forgiveness of sin, and new life.
And even when the world says No to Jesus – even when we just don’t want God among us on God’s terms, and we try to get rid of him; even when we cry out, Crucify him! – even then, God just won’t give up. God the Father raises God the Son from the grave as the First Being of the New Creation – or as some of the New Testament witnesses say, the First-Fruit of the New Creation.
Now it’s beginning to make sense! God sent the Holy Spirit at Pentecost in order to provoke a wonderful, awe-inspiring harvest – not of tomatoes and apples and grain, nor of animals thriving on the land, nor of fish teaming in lakes and seas, nor of birds swarming in the sky above – but a rich harvest of what God has always wanted from you and me and all people: the righteousness of faith.
When God poured out the Holy Spirit on the disciples who were gathered in Jerusalem on that momentous Pentecost festival 2,000 years ago, bystanders wondered whether they were drunk. The Spirit had given the disciples the gift of tongues – speech in earthly and perhaps also angelic languages.
The bystanders heard it as gibberish. That wouldn’t be unusual when we keep in mind that Pentecost was originally an agricultural festival and that grapes were an important part of the harvest. Grapes inevitably lead to wine, and we all know what wine can do!
Simon Peter chimes in immediately. No, it’s too early in the day for all these people to be drunk. Something else has happened. And then he tells the marvellous story of God’s salvation in Jesus Christ, and what it means for the whole world.
But hold on. What if were to go with the charge levelled by the bystanders? What if we were to acknowledge the suggestions that the disciples were drunk – that is, drunk with the fruit of the Spirit?!
And maybe you and I would be crazy enough to say that we’re drunk, too, in the 21st century, here in this slice of Metro Vancouver or wherever we happen to be. And if we’re not, then maybe we should pray that God pour out this Spirit in such a way that contemporary bystanders would cluck their tongues and wag their heads at us and our wild attitudes and our scandalous behaviour.
Because of God’s Spirit, we’re drunk with the fruits of the Spirit. And the very first fruit is faith itself.
That’s reflected in the most important line in Luther’s Small Catechism. It’s in is his explanation to the Third Article of the Apostles’ Creed, which is our statement of belief in the Holy Spirit. In his Small Catechism, Luther asks, What does this mean? Or, more elementally, What is this? Here’s his answer:
I believe that by my own understanding or strength I cannot believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to him, but instead the Holy Spirit has called me through the gospel, enlightened me with his gifts, made me holy, and kept me in true faith …
Did you hear that? I believe that apart from the Holy Spirit I cannot believe. Faith in God itself is a gift of God’s Spirit. It’s not a capacity within us. It’s not something we are born with. God must produce our faith. God must do it all!
And precisely because God does it all through the Holy Spirit, we are drunk with all the Spirit’s gifts – above all love (as St. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians) – love that arises from God’s forgiveness in Jesus Christ. God has freed us from our sin. We are not prisoners of our past. We’re not enslaved to vengeance. We don’t keep little black books recording the names of people who have wronged us. Those little black books were stripped of us when God raised us to new life. They’re back in the grave, rotting, while by the power of God’s Spirit we have walked away, re-created and free.
It doesn’t stop there. By the power of the Spirit, it spreads out and builds momentum as it goes. Not only do we exercise patience with one another, now we seek the well-being of all people. We pray to God for all people, asking God to provide for all.
Of course, those prayers are offered in peace. That is why God the Father sent God the Son in the first place – for the sake of peace. Peace among us who are gathered here; peace that extends to our homes and neighbourhoods; peace that is addictive … because we’re drunk with the Fruit of the Spirit.
May God pour out that Spirit anew, and produce in us this harvest that God desires. May we live in love, peace, and faith, for the sake of another and the world that God persistently loves.
Peace be with you all.