You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you.

– John 15:16 (ESV)

This passage was read in church today, and it immediately impacted me. It spoke to a longing in my heart that is, at times, somewhat desperate.

Children of the King are chosen and appointed to bear fruit for his Kingdom. Fruit that abides. Fruit that lasts.

As children of God we should be able to point to Kingdom fruit that is lasting. If there is no tangible fruit resulting from our lives there is reason for great concern. That being said, I’m convinced that a faithful Christian – one not just “doing good things” but actually living naturally as the workmanship of God – produces a lot of fruit he is never aware of and won’t be shown until the last Day.

There is an element of faith here that I, as a wavering and unsure servant of God, have to cling to. The true fruit of the Kingdom, the true works, are those actions that work a permanent change, both in ourselves and others. We don’t always see them. We have setbacks and disappointments. And yet we believe, as we yield to God, open ourselves up for his correction and teaching, and surrender ourselves to his will, that fruit will result. And that it will last forever, if it is in God’s hands.

And sometimes it’s there, and we don’t know it, because it hasn’t yet broken through the surface of the soil . . .

“And every day when I get up

I see folks trading in their crowns

For all these paper or plastic lives

An opiate for the masses’ hounds”

– Caedmon’s Call, Standing Up For Nothing

I woke up a few minutes ago with that lyric ringing in my head. Actually, the line repeating over and over was simply “paper or plastic lives”. I couldn’t remember the reference and had to google it.

I wish it didn’t seem so appropriate, but I struggle with the same discouragement as the writer of that song. It’s the lot of the student minister (and even those of the “used to be” category, such as myself) to see those you once influenced grow up and make their own choices, some of which, at first glance at least, look less than wise.

All you can pray is that through it all they’ll cling to Jesus.

And he came to the disciples and found them sleeping. And he said to Peter, “So, could you not watch with me one hour? Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

– Matthew 26:40-41 (ESV)

It’s common this time of year to make lists of resolutions. I can think of a dozen things I’d like to do better in 2006 than I did in 2005. Not one of them is unattainable.

In fact, from my observations many of the goals we set for ourselves are very attainable, including that most commmon goal among adults (you guessed it): “I want to lose weight”.

Heck, I’ve lost weight before – and I know for a fact that enduring that gross Atkins taste in my mouth for 2 1/2 months would shed twenty pounds (as it did two years ago. Yeah, I gained it all back).

We all resolve to do better at work, in our marriages, in our tending of our physical temple, in school, etc. And yet it’s so easy to . . . to do exactly the same in the upcoming year as the year before.

And what of the highest goal, the goal of knowing God better, walking with him more closely, and glorifying him more?

We want to do this. I want to do this! The spirit is so willing.

But the flesh is weak! Weak, weak, and treacherous, this flesh we’re clothed in! And it wants to loaf, to waste time, to do a thousand things besides that which benefits my spirit and the Kingdom.

In searching for an analogy for my own bad self, I was reminded of this scene from that profound work, The Emperor’s New Groove:

Kuzco: I snatched you right out of the air!

“Oh, I’m a crumbly canyon wall, and I’m taking you with me.”

Well, not today, pal!

Uh-huh. Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh. Uh-huh.

Yes, my flesh is a crumbly canyon wall, and it wants to take me with it.

Man! To be able to say “not today, pal!” But there’s only been one human being in all of history who perfectly mastered his flesh and kept it in perfect submission to the Father’s plan.

May I call upon Jesus, my strength and my rock, this year. I know that without him my ideas of improvement will not happen. And I need to improve so badly, in so many areas. I feel this more deeply this year than I have in a long time. But only by the power of the Holy Spirit do I have the slightest hope of doing better. Because no matter how much my spirit wants to, I have my crumbly canyon wall to deal with.