THE DIVINE ORCHARDIST

I want to grow, but I’d rather not have to deal with all the ups and downs that come with it. I want to grow, but I’d prefer it didn’t hurt. I want to grow, but I’d rather not have to answer to anyone else. In other words, I want to be like Christ, but I want to do it my way. Do you think that will work? If I told this to Dr. Phil, I can imagine him asking, “How’s that working for you?” The answer: not so great.

If we’re honest, most of us would choose a spiritual growth plan that looks a lot like a pampered houseplant sitting in a sunny window. We’d want filtered water at just the right time, maybe a little Miracle-Gro snack, and we’d only grow a new leaf when we felt like it.

We want our transformation into the image of Christ to be comfortable, easy, and completely under our control. We’d like to avoid anything too hot or too cold, anything sharp, or anything that might mess up our plans. Sometimes, we act like God’s main job is to keep our lives set at a perfect seventy-two degrees, just like a good thermostat.

But God isn’t an interior decorator running a fancy plant shop. He’s the Sovereign Orchardist, the kind of farmer who isn’t afraid to get dirt under His fingernails. He’s not interested in growing a decorative fern that wilts if you leave the door open. He’s after strong, deep-rooted, fruit-bearing trees that can stand up to a storm. As Dallas Willard and C. S. Lewis remind us, God’s goal for us isn’t comfort, but Christlike character.¹ That means the process is slow, sometimes messy, and always aimed at making us more like Jesus.

When Paul gives us that big promise in Romans 8:28—that “all things work together for good to those who love God”—he wasn’t just giving us a nice saying for a coffee mug. He was describing God’s hands-on plan for our lives. In God’s economy, the “good” isn’t a bigger bank account, an easy life, or a perfect reputation. The “good” is character. It’s God changing our hearts, so we love like Jesus. But how does God do this? Not in a climate-controlled greenhouse. He uses three things: Change (the seasons), Adversity (pruning), and Community (the orchard). If you’ve been feeling a little beat up, exposed, or crowded lately, you’re right where God does His best work. So let’s put on our work boots, step out of the greenhouse, and see what God is up to in your soul.

Part I: The Spiritual Weather Report—How God Uses the Seasons

We live in a culture obsessed with perpetual summer. We want ongoing productivity, high emotional energy, endless sunshine, and visible success every single day. If we aren't constantly blooming or throwing off fresh fruit, we assume we must be broken or that God has somehow mismanaged the thermostat. But the Bible, written by people who actually lived with the soil, has a radically different take on the calendar of the soul. Ecclesiastes 3:1 famously declares, “To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven.” Galatians 6:9 warns us not to lose heart, for “in due season we shall reap.” In the providence of God, seasons aren't random accidents; they are deliberate designs meant to shape what we call the Christian Character Tree.

The Cryptic Blessings of a Brutal Winter

If you want an apple, peach, or cherry tree to give you sweet, heavy fruit in the fall, you have to let it go through a tough winter. To most of us, a fruit tree in winter looks like a lost cause. The leaves are gone, the branches look like bare bones, and nothing seems to be happening. If you’re like me and not much of a farmer, you might think the tree is dead and ready for the woodpile. But those who know trees talk about something called “chill hours.”²

Fruit trees actually require a specific number of cumulative hours between 32°F and 45°F during their winter dormancy. This freezing environment is not a punishment inflicted upon the tree; it's a biological necessity. Without this prolonged, bitter exposure to the biting cold, the tree’s internal growth inhibitors won't break down properly. If the winter is too mild, the buds will fail to break properly when spring arrives, and the subsequent fruit crop will be meager or non-existent. The tree literally needs the cold to clear the path for future fruitfulness.

So, what about those howling winter storms? The driving winds that threaten to snap the trunk in half? Botanists have a twenty-dollar word for it—thigmomorphogenesis—but basically, trees get tough by getting beat up by the wind.³ When the wind beats on a tree, it actually makes the trunk thicker, and the roots dig deeper. The wind makes the tree unshakeable. Who would have guessed?

The Orchestra of Spring, Summer, and Fall

After winter does its quiet work, the other seasons take over. Spring is when the tree wakes up, buds break open, and blossoms show up everywhere. It looks beautiful, but it’s risky—a late frost can wipe out the whole show. Spring also means the tree has to rely on bees and bugs to do their job, so it can’t go it alone.⁴

Summer is when the real work happens. It’s hot, it’s tiring, and the tree has to pull water from deep in the ground to help the fruit grow. There are no shortcuts in summer.⁵ Then comes fall, the big harvest. The tree’s strength is tested by the burden of all that fruit. As soon as the harvest is over, the tree starts getting ready for winter again.⁶ That’s a pretty amazing cycle, isn’t it?

Translating the Weather to the Soul

So, what does all this mean for us? In God’s plan, we don’t merely stumble into hard times by accident. God uses the seasons of life to shape us into the image of Christ. Take Spiritual Winter, for example. This is the dark night of the soul, the dry desert season. Dallas Willard wrote that real spiritual growth happens where no one else can see—in the deep places of our hearts.⁷ Your spiritual winter might be that time when you feel numb, your ministry seems dead, and God feels silent. You wonder, “Where is God? Has He left me?” I’ve been there and will probably be there again.

But don’t lose hope: God is counting up your “chill hours.” He’s using the cold silence to break your habit of depending on emotional highs or the praise of others. He’s teaching you to live by faith, not by feelings. The storms of financial trouble, grief, or criticism are making you stronger, not weaker. Your roots are going deeper, so you can handle what’s ahead. Remember, God is always in control of the temperature. The cold is never a mistake, even when it feels miserable.

When Spiritual Spring comes, it brings new life and fresh insight. Suddenly, the Bible seems alive, prayer becomes a joy, and new habits begin to take root. But spring is also a time to be careful. We have to watch out for the ‘late frosts’ of pride, complacency, and patting ourselves on the back. If we get proud in the spring, we’ll lose our blossoms before they ever become fruit.

Spiritual Summer is the hard, ordinary middle of life. It’s the long, hot stretch of daily faithfulness when no one is watching, no one is cheering, and nothing seems exciting. It’s raising kids, going to work, paying bills, folding laundry, and yes, serving in the church nursery. This is where the “Fruit of the Spirit” goes from being just a pretty idea to something real and lasting. Then comes Spiritual Fall, the season of mature wisdom. This is when your character is strong and sweet enough to help others—when your years of struggle become a deep well of comfort for those who are hurting.

Part II: Snip, Snip, Ouch—The Radical Reality of Pruning

If the changing seasons don’t make you uncomfortable, the Vinedresser’s shears will. Jesus didn’t sugarcoat it in John 15:1-2: “Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” Think about that. If you’re not bearing fruit, God cuts you off. If you are bearing fruit, He still cuts you—so you can bear even more. In God’s orchard, there’s no coasting. The more you grow, the more God works on you.

The Horticultural Horror of Pruning

To someone watching, pruning a fruit tree can look like you’re just tearing it apart. The orchardist stands there with big clippers, cutting off what looks like healthy growth. Why do this? Because fruit trees naturally want to show off with lots of leaves and branches, but not much fruit.⁸ Left alone, a tree will use all its energy to grow a thick, leafy canopy. It looks great from a distance, but there’s a problem with all that unpruned growth. Let’s look at a few reasons why.

First, there is Light Blockage. The thick outer leaves absorb all the sunlight, turning the inside of the tree into a dark, barren wasteland.⁹ Second, there is Air Stagnation. A bushy tree traps ambient humidity, turning the interior into a luxury resort for fungal diseases and insect infestations.¹⁰ Third, and most deceptively, there are Water Sprouts. The tree will spontaneously shoot out vertical, incredibly fast-growing branches. They look amazingly vigorous to the untrained eye, but they are completely sterile parasites. They suck up massive amounts of the tree’s resources, producing zero fruit while starving the legitimate fruit-bearing wood.¹¹

I’ve wondered before—does pruning hurt the tree? While trees don’t feel pain like we do, pruning is still a big shock to their system. It leaves open wounds. That’s why the best time to prune is late winter, when the tree is dormant.¹² If you prune in the middle of summer, you can actually drain the tree of what it needs to live. The orchardist cuts away the dead, diseased, and damaged branches and gets rid of those fast-growing water sprouts. When it’s done, the tree looks pretty sad—bare and chopped up. But come spring, the roots send a flood of energy to what’s left, and the tree grows stronger and produces sweeter fruit.

Bringing the Shears into the Christian Character Ecosystem

So how does this pruning apply to us? Unlike a fruit tree, we have egos, and we don’t like being cut back. We tend to fight, complain, and try to bargain when God starts pruning. We often mistake God’s loving discipline for punishment.

C. S. Lewis captured this brilliantly in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. I used it in previous blogs, but it fits so well here, I use it again. Eustace Scrubb, an incredibly greedy boy, is turned into a literal dragon due to the rotten state of his inner character. To be restored, he tries to scratch off his own dragon scales, but every time he peels off a thick layer of skin, there is another hard, ugly layer beneath it. He can’t cure himself. Finally, Aslan the Lion looks him in the eye and says, "You will have to let me undress you." Eustace describes the experience: "The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I've ever felt."¹³

That’s what spiritual pruning is. It’s when God removes the things in our lives that puff up our egos or keep us from real growth. What does God prune? He cuts away the dead wood—empty routines, stubborn sins, and wrong ways of thinking. But sometimes, God even prunes good things: a successful ministry, a comfortable friendship, a big career goal, or a favorite hobby. Why? Because even good things can become like ‘water sprouts’—growing fast, making us look good, but draining our energy and leaving us too tired to grow real fruit like love and peace.

Does it hurt? Absolutely. It can feel like loss, rejection, or failure. I’ve been there myself. You look around and see others who seem to have it all together, while you feel exposed and empty. But God only prunes to give us more life and make us more beautiful in the end. The pain isn’t punishment—it’s God’s loving discipline.

Part III: The Sacred Grove—Why Believers Must Grow in Orchards

Now let’s step back from the single tree and look at the bigger picture. In our Western churches—and yes, even among Southern Baptists—there’s a popular but dangerous myth: the idea of the “Lone Ranger Christian.” We like to picture ourselves as strong, solitary oaks standing alone on a hill, needing no one else. We want a personal relationship with Jesus, but we’d rather skip the part about being connected or accountable to other believers.

But the Bible doesn’t support this Lone Ranger idea. God doesn’t save us to be scattered, isolated trees. He plants us together in a big, well-planned orchard. Psalm 92:13 says, “Those who are planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God.” God isn’t interested in growing us alone. He wants us side by side with other believers—even the messy ones.

The Biological Brilliance of the Orchard

If you ask someone who studies fruit trees, they’ll tell you that planting a single tree out in a field is a recipe for failure. Fruit trees are meant to grow together. There are some big advantages to being in an orchard instead of standing alone:

First, Cross-Pollination. Various popular varieties of fruit trees—especially apples and sweet cherries—are completely self-unfruitful. A single, isolated Red Delicious apple tree can produce millions of gorgeous blossoms, but if it stands alone, it will never produce a single piece of fruit. It requires a completely different variety of apple tree planted nearby to act as a cross-pollinator. The genetic diversity of the orchard row is the literal source of life for the individual tree's fruit production.¹⁴

Second, The Windbreak Effect. When a severe summer thunderstorm rips through a valley, an isolated tree takes the full, unhindered force of the wind across its entire canopy. It has no protection. In an orchard, however, the trees form a collective canopy buffer. The outer rows take the initial brunt of the storm, acting as a living windbreak that greatly reduces wind speed. Furthermore, under the surface of the dirt, their root systems interlock and graft into one another, turning the entire orchard floor into an underground slab of mutual stability.¹⁵

Third, Underground Communication. Scientists have discovered that trees in a healthy orchard are connected underground by a network of fungi—what they call the ‘Wood Wide Web.’¹⁶ Through these underground connections, trees share water and nutrients. If one tree is struggling, the others help it out. It’s all pretty amazing.

The Christian Character Tree Ecosystem: Life in Community

So, what does this mean for church life? Simply put, you can’t grow into the image of Christ by yourself. You can read every theology book and listen to sermons online, but you won’t learn real patience unless you’re around people who test it. You can’t develop Christlike endurance if no one ever lets you down. The church is God’s way of smoothing out our rough edges.

To see how this works in practice, let's examine the three-tiered community model used by church movements like the Soma Family of Churches.¹⁷ I reference this because it has a more organic feel than many of our other structures in our churches. I have also found this to be the most beneficial in new church plants. This divides local church life into three different structural sizes: DNA Groups (Micro), Missional Communities (Medium), and Congregations (Macro). Let's look at how the orchard applies directly to these three relational spaces.

1. DNA Groups (The Micro-Orchard of Three)

A DNA Group (typically consisting of three men or three women who meet bi-monthly for intensive spiritual processing) is the direct equivalent of close-range hand-pruning and structural root-grafting. In a group of three people who know you deeply, there is absolutely nowhere to hide. You cannot hide your water sprouts or your diseased habits behind a wall of noise from a big church gathering. It is a relational space designed for radical, gut-wrenching honesty and the direct, surgical application of the gospel.

This micro-scale is uniquely designed to expose and dismantle your hidden personal sins and blind spots that you hide from everyone else. This is where you confess that your marriage is on the brink of structural failure, or that your professional ambition is actually driven by a toxic vanity. In a DNA group, your brothers or sisters can see the crossing branches of your personality quirks and help you apply the bypass pruners before they cause long-term rot.

2. Missional Communities (The Mid-Sized Row of 12 to 25)

A Missional Community is like a row of fruit trees planted close together. It’s a spiritual family that eats together, shares what they have, and lives out their faith side by side. If the DNA group is like surgery, the Missional Community is the busy living room where you practice your faith in real life.

This mid-sized group is where the fruit of the Spirit really grows. Why? Because with twenty different people, you’re bound to be around folks you wouldn’t pick as friends. There’s the loud one, the awkward one, and the one who always forgets to bring a dish to the potluck. In other words, it’s God’s way of teaching us to love people—even when they drive us a little crazy.

This mid-sized group is where the crucial dynamic of cross-pollination happens. You see another family facing a major crisis with unshakeable gospel grace, and their quiet patience pollinates your own anxious home life. When a member faces a devastating health diagnosis, the Missional Community transforms into a living windbreak. They organize the meals, mow the lawn, and stand shoulder to shoulder to absorb the kinetic energy of the crisis so that the individual tree isn't snapped in half by the storm.

3. Congregations (The Macro-Orchard of 70 and Up)

Finally, there is the Congregation—the large corporate gathering of around seventy people and up. In our contemporary culture, it is incredibly easy to cynically view the large Sunday morning congregation as perfunctory or something of an outdated tradition. But in the grand design of the Divine Orchardist, the larger congregation serves as the ultimate macro-canopy windbreak.

When the truly catastrophic, category-5 existential storms of human life slam into us—such as the sudden, heartbreaking death of a child, or a terminal medical diagnosis—a tiny DNA group or a mid-sized Missional Community can easily find themselves completely crushed by the sheer, overpowering weight of the tragedy. They can rapidly run out of emotional bandwidth and material resources. But a large, established congregation provides a massive, intergenerational root matrix and an immovable structural canopy that has stood the test of time.

When you are walking through the deepest valley of your life, and your soul is too weak, weary, and broken to pray or sing, the collective roar of a hundred voices surrounding you carries your faith like a spiritual slipstream. The larger congregation provides a beautiful perspective of the entire human lifecycle. More than a few times, people have said to me, “I don’t know how people make it through life without a church family.” The young, stressed-out married couple looks across the aisle and sees an elderly believer who has walked with Jesus through fifty years of widowhood, still raising her hands in praise. The congregation reminds us that our little tree is not a freak anomaly standing alone in a desert; we are part of an ancient, sprawling, and completely unshakeable grove. This is what we all need. We need this not just to build Christian character but also to maintain it.

Conclusion: Welcome to the Dirt

When we look at Romans 8:28 through this orchard lens, it changes how we see our lives. We stop thinking that unexpected changes mean God messed up. We stop seeing pain as random punishment. We stop treating church as just another thing on our to-do list. Instead, we realize that everything is part of God’s good plan.

The biting cold of your spiritual winter? God is using it to break your pride and prepare you for growth. The painful cut of God’s pruning? He’s removing what drains you so you can bear real fruit. The challenges of your Missional Community? That’s God teaching you to love like Jesus. The big congregation? That’s your windbreak when life gets hard. God is growing you into a strong, fruitful tree, anchored in His grace. So when you feel the cold of winter, the sting of pruning, or the squeeze of community, don’t panic. Trust the Master Orchardist, dig your roots more deeply into Jesus, and let Him do His good work.

Endnotes

1. Here are two of the works by these two men, which highlight the goal of Christian character: Willard, Dallas. The Divine Conspiracy: Rediscovering Our Hidden Life In God. San Francisco: Harper San Francisco, 1998. This book by Willard has been the most impactful in my life, aside from the Holy Bible. Lewis, C. S. The Abolition of Man or Reflections on Education with Special Reference to the Teaching of English in the Upper Forms of Schools. HarperOne, 2001.

2. Westwood, M.N. Temperate-Zone Pomology: Physiology and Culture. Portland, OR: Timber Press, 1993. p. 386.

3. Jaffe, M. J. "Thigmomorphogenesis: The response of plant growth and development to mechanical stimulation." Planta 114, no. 2 (1973), pp. 143-157.

4. Childers, Norman F., Justin R. Morris, and G. Steven Sibbett. Modern Fruit Science: Orchard and Small Fruit Culture. Gainesville, FL: Horticultural Publications, 1995. pp. 275-279.

5. Childers, Morris, and Sibbet. pp. 145-170.

6. Childers, Morris, and Sibbet. pp. 136-144.

7. Willard, Dallas, Renovation of the Heart: Putting on the Character of Christ (Colorado Springs, CO: NavPress, 2002), 22.

8. Turnbull, Cass. Cass Turnbull’s Guide to Pruning: What, When, Where & How to Prune for a More Beautiful Garden (Seattle: Sasquatch Books, 2004), pp. 161–176.

9. Turnbull, pp. 20-39.

10. Turnbull, pp. 182-189.

11. Turnbull, pp. 23-28, see also 182-189.

12. Turnbull, pp. 182-189.

13. Lewis, C. S. The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (London: Geoffrey Bles, 1952; later HarperCollins editions), ch. 7, “How the Adventure Ended.”

14. Free, John B. Insect Pollination of Crops. London: Academic Press, 1993. pp. 431-466.

15. Bailey, Liberty Hyde. The Principles of Fruit-Growing (New York: Macmillan, 1897), 79–94, especially 79–85.

16. Simard, Suzanne. Finding the Mother Tree: Discovering the Wisdom of the Forest. New York: Knopf, 2021, pp. 165.

17. Vanderstelt, Jeff. Saturate: Being Disciples of Jesus in the Everyday Stuff of Life (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2015), 83–122, especially 93–122. This is one of the best books I’ve read on this three-layered approach. I used this with several of our new churches that were started when I was the director of church planting for Oklahoma Baptists from 2017 to 2020.

THE FRUIT DOES NOT LIE

There’s a certain kind of Christian who stands out, and not because they make a big show of it. They don’t walk in carrying a Bible the size of a Costco roast. They don’t broadcast their spiritual credentials like someone spraying cologne at the mall. They just show up, and somehow, you notice the atmosphere is different.

They listen without defending or accusing. They disagree without becoming disagreeable. They forgive without requiring a public apology. When they speak the truth, it doesn’t feel like you’re being hit with a sledgehammer. They aren’t pushovers, but they have a strength that looks a lot like Jesus. Their lives carry a kind of weight, warmth, and goodness you can sense.

That is what Paul calls 'the fruit of the Spirit.' Not the religious personality type. Not the checklist of church behaviors. Not the 'I was raised right and know which fork to use at a fancy Buckhead, GA restaurant. Rather, the fruit of the Spirit is the visible evidence that the invisible life of God is actually growing in a human being.

This fruit shows up and grows as we live under the grace of Jesus, learning to line up our lives with what His Spirit is doing. Think of it like a Christian Character Tree. The fruit of the Spirit is the top of the tree, where everything God has been doing in us finally shows up for everyone to see.

Remember, the fruit isn’t the goal—it’s the result. It’s what grows out of everything God has already planted and nurtured in us: the new birth, the deep roots of kingdom values, the nourishment of Scripture and spiritual disciplines, and the warm light of God’s grace. The fruit of the Spirit is the proof that God is really at work in a person’s life, or in a church family living under His care.

This “fruit of the Spirit” is outlined in the Apostle Paul’s letter to the Galatians. Paul wrote this letter to churches being tempted to trade the living gospel for religious machinery. Some teachers were telling Gentile believers they needed Christ plus circumcision, faith plus law-keeping, grace plus a little spiritual resume padding. For these people, entry into Christ may have been by faith, but, contrary to the gospel and to Paul, life in Christ was according to the Law. The Law doesn’t give life; that comes from the Spirit. We are to live not by the Law but by the Spirit, and evidence of this is the fruit of the Spirit. Needless to say, Paul was not amused. Galatians is not Paul sipping a Celestial Seasonings herbal decaf tea and gently processing his feelings. It is Paul pulling the fire alarm because the house of grace was filling with smoke.¹

And right in the middle of that emergency, Paul gives us this beautiful sentence: “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control” (Gal. 5:22-23, ESV). That little cluster of words is not a decorative Bible verse for an entry wall. It is the apex of Christian character. It is the place where the whole tree finally tells the truth.

The fruit matters because fruit verifies the tree. Jesus said you know a tree by its fruit, not by its press release (Matt. 7:16-20; Luke 6:43-45). Any church, pastor, deacon, Sunday School teacher, theologian, associational missionary like me, or denominational committee can print values on a brochure. But the question is not, “What do you say you value?” The question is, “What grows naturally when life squeezes you?”

When the email is sharp, what comes out?

When the meeting goes sideways, what comes out?

When someone else gets praised, what comes out?

When the budget goes awry, what comes out?

When you’re tired, contradicted, overlooked, or treated like the church copier—used all the time and blamed when things go wrong—what comes out?

That is fruit inspection. And yes, it is uncomfortable. Nobody likes being spiritually squeezed. But squeezing does not usually create what comes out; it reveals what was already in there. Jesus said as much when he said, “all these evil things come from within, and they defile a person.” (Mark 7:23) 

The fruit of the Spirit is the culmination and verification of the Christian Character Tree. The soil may be rich. The roots may be deep. The trunk may be sturdy. The limbs may stretch toward heaven. But fruit is where the tree's life becomes visible, edible, shareable, and undeniable. Fruit is not the whole tree, but it is the part of the tree your neighbor gets to taste.

So what is the fruit of the Spirit?

I’m glad you asked. First, it is singular. Paul says 'fruit,' not 'fruits.' This really does matter. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control are not nine spiritual electives, as if we could major in joy, minor in kindness, and audit self-control without doing the assignments. They are one unified harvest of the Spirit's life.²

Second, the fruit is Christlike character produced by the Holy Spirit. It is the life of Jesus taking recognizable shape in us. Love is not simply niceness. Joy isn't a glittering personality. Peace isn’t conflict avoidance. Patience isn’t pretending nothing bothers you while your left eye twitches. Kindness isn’t cowardice with manners. Goodness isn’t self-righteous fussiness. Faithfulness isn’t stubbornness baptized. Gentleness isn’t weakness. Self-control isn’t grim personal management by your own Internal Department of Religious Compliance. I think you get it.

The fruit is the moral fragrance of Jesus.

C. S. Lewis helps us here. In The Four Loves, Lewis shows how natural loves are good gifts, but they become disordered when they refuse the rule of divine love.³ That insight helps us see why the Spirit must grow love in us. Human love, left to itself, can become possessive, needy, sentimental, manipulative, or tribal. Spirit-grown love becomes holy love - love that seeks the good of the other before the applause of the self.

J. R. R. Tolkien gives us another picture. In The Lord of the Rings, the Shire is worth saving not because it is impressive, but because it is fruitful, ordinary, earthy, relational, and good.⁴ For Tolkien, the Great War mattered because gardens, meals, friendships, songs, children, and peaceful fields mattered. In Christian terms, fruit is what makes the battle visible in ordinary life. Spiritual warfare is not only resisting obvious darkness; it is becoming the kind of person whose presence makes a little more Shire appear in Mordor. So, if you’re unfamiliar with Tolkien, the point is that the fruit of the Spirit makes God’s kingdom quietly visible even in places in which darkness seems to have the upper hand.

Now, what is the fruit not?

It could be helpful to define what the fruit of the Spirit is not. It is not personality. Some people are naturally calm, cheerful, disciplined, or agreeable. That may be temperament, upbringing, Southern politeness, or caffeine levels. The Spirit can certainly sanctify temperament, but temperament is not the same as fruit. A naturally quiet person may not be gentle; he may be passive, fearful, or rehearsing a devastating comment for later. A naturally energetic person may not be joyful; she may simply be running on adrenaline and denial.

It’s not only about managing your behavior. Of course, behavior matters. But Christian character doesn’t come from trying to staple fruit onto dead branches. Nobody wants to eat a pie made from that. If all we do is decorate the outside, sooner or later, the tape comes loose, and the fake fruit falls off.

It’s not factory output, either. Factories make things by pressure, speed, repetition, and control. Trees grow fruit by life, rootedness, season, atmosphere, pruning, and time. A factory can produce identical widgets. A tree produces living fruit. Modern church life sometimes prefers factories because factories are measurable, efficient, and easy to report in a spreadsheet. “How many units of kindness did we ship this quarter?” But the Holy Spirit isn’t running an assembly line. He’s growing an orchard.

This changes our approach to spiritual growth. If fruit is factory output, then we need more pressure. If fruit is behavior management, then we need more rules. If fruit is religious marketing, then we need better branding. But if fruit is organic life, then we need health from the roots upward.

Where does the fruit come from?

It comes from the Holy Spirit, through union with Christ, under the sunlight of God’s grace, rooted in the reality of truth, goodness, and beauty. Gordon Fee emphasized that for Paul, the Spirit is the experienced presence of God among and within His people.⁵  J. I. Packer famously described the Spirit's ministry as floodlight-like: the Spirit shines a spotlight on Christ, not Himself.⁶ That means the Spirit grows Christlike fruit in us by making Christ real, beautiful, trusted, loved, and obeyed.

In the Christian Character Tree, the fruit does not appear in midair. It grows from the whole living ecological environment. In case you missed it on other blogs, here's the summary from the ground up. 

The soil is the reality of, alignment with, and radience of God - the rich ground of the good, the true, and the beautiful. If there’s no grounding, there’s no growth. The soil of Truth roots us in reality. Fruit cannot grow in delusion. Love must love what is actually good. Joy must rest in what is real. Peace must be more than denial with mood lighting.

The soil of Goodness secures us in the moral order. The fruit of the Spirit isn’t random pleasantness. It’s a rightly ordered life. The good life is the life that’s lived in harmony from the inside out according to God’s design.

The soil of Beauty holds us in the radiance of a rightly ordered soul. The fruit isn’t only correct; it’s lovely. Beauty has been called the child produced by the marriage of the True and the Good. Dallas Willard said it well: "Beauty is God's goodness made manifest to the senses."⁷ Beauty is the sensory evidence of God. 

The seed is new life from the Spirit. It is God’s living design.

The roots are the deep postures of the kingdom, rooting and sprouting from this new Spirit-life: poverty of spirit, meekness, hunger for righteousness, mercy, purity of heart, peacemaking, and endurance. 

The nutrients are the supplements drawn from the soil by the roots’ values. Peter describes: faith, virtue, knowledge, self-control, steadfastness, godliness, brotherly affection, and love (2 Pet. 1:5-7). 

The sunlight of God’s grace shines on the entire tree. This is God’s fatherly favor, providential care, transforming power, sustaining strength, timing, and more. 

The atmosphere of the Holy Spirit surrounds the tree. He is breath, wind, presence, and power. He does not simply give us assignments; He gives us life. He convicts, comforts, illuminates, empowers, and bears witness to Christ. The Christian life is not lived by holding our breath and trying to look spiritual. It is lived by breathing the air of the Spirit.

The trunk is the stabilizer. These four virtues of prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude are the hinge on which the rest of the moral life and a flourishing society depend. 

The limbs are the three theological virtues of faith, hope, and love, from which the fruit of the spirit can bloom and ripen. These virtues are gifts of God to his own.

All of this is the gift of God. But our cooperation and effort are not excused in this fruit-bearing enterprise. Dallas Willard's famous line, which I’ve used over and over, is crucial here: “Grace is not opposed to effort. It is opposed to earning.”⁸ That is the difference between spiritual formation and spiritual self-salvation—our effort matters. We abide. We pray. We repent. We forgive. We practice silence instead of narrating every irritation like a breaking news anchor. We open Scripture. We worship. We confess. We serve. We stay in Christian community even when the community contains actual Christians, which is often where the trouble begins.

But none of that earns fruit. However, it does position us to receive life. 

This is why the sap in the Christian Character Tree matters so much. The sap is the Spirit bringing us grace through things like Scripture, prayer, worship, obedience, fellowship, gratitude, lament, Sabbath, and being together as a church. Sap isn’t flashy, but without it, the branches dry up. A lot of us want fruit but ignore the sap. That’s like wanting apples without bothering with roots, rain, or sunlight because they don’t seem exciting enough.

The weather, pruning, and orchard also matter. These are trials, discipline, suffering, community, mission, and witness. God uses storms. God uses pruning. God uses difficult people, which is both biblical and inconvenient. He uses the church, which is why spiritual maturity cannot be reduced to private inspiration and a good playlist. Fruit grows in the orchard of shared life.

So what is God's part and what is our part?

God gives life. God unites us to Christ. God sends the Spirit. God justifies. God adopts. God sanctifies. God prunes. God preserves. God brings the harvest.⁹

Our part is responsive participation. We walk by the Spirit (Gal. 5:16). We keep in step with the Spirit (Gal. 5:25). We put to death the deeds of the body by the Spirit (Rom. 8:13). We abide in Christ because apart from Him we can do nothing (John 15:5). We do not create the sap; we stay connected to the Vine.

This is why fruit is so important. It reveals the kind of tree and the state of the heart. The fruit of the Spirit is not how we earn salvation, but it is one way salvation shows up, wearing what we used to call in Texas “work clothes”. It matters because the world is tired of Christian leaves without Christian fruit. The world will curse us as Jesus cursed the fig tree on his way to Jerusalem. In my opinion, people have seen enough religious foliage - platforms, slogans, theological framework conferences, doctrinal cage matches, and online discernment ministries that seem to have lost the 'gentleness' aisle.

The world does not need less truth. It needs truth with fruit. Truth without love becomes a sword in the hands of a toddler. Goodness without gentleness becomes moral bullying. Faithfulness without joy becomes grim endurance with a hymnbook. Self-control without kindness becomes emotional refrigeration. The fruit holds together.

The fruit is also deeply relational. Every aspect of the fruit has a face turned toward God and a face turned toward neighbor.

Love seeks another's good.

Joy strengthens shared life.

Peace makes room for reconciliation.

Patience absorbs slowness without contempt.

Kindness gives warmth where coldness would be easier.

Goodness acts for what is right, not simply what is convenient.

Faithfulness stays when novelty leaves.

Gentleness handles souls without bruising them.

Self-control refuses to make everyone else pay for our appetites, fears, moods, and impulses.

In other words, the fruit of the Spirit is what love looks like when it gets dressed for different occasions.

In marriage, fruit sounds like, 'I was wrong.'

In parenting, it sounds like calm strength instead of volcanic correction.

In church conflict, it sounds like truth with tears instead of truth with brass knuckles.

In leadership, it sounds like courage without ego.

In suffering, it sounds like hope that has stopped needing everything to be easy.

In social media, it sounds like logging off before posting what your flesh just wrote in your head.

The fruit is for God's glory, our maturity, the church's health, and the neighbor's good. Jesus said the Father is glorified when His disciples bear much fruit (John 15:8). Fruit glorifies God before it is practical. It shows that God is a living God who can make living people. It also makes the church a credible preview of the kingdom. Not a perfect preview, of course. More like a church homecoming potluck version of the kingdom - some dishes are excellent, some are mysterious, and somebody always brings a strange salad with marshmallows. But still, a preview.

The fruit is also missional. Christopher Wright has emphasized that God's people are called to reflect God's character for the sake of God's mission in the world.¹⁰ The fruit of the Spirit is not private spirituality kept in a devotional greenhouse. It is public witness. The church's love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control are meant to make the invisible reign of Christ visible in ordinary neighborhoods.

This is where we must resist two opposite errors.

The first error is passivity: 'Let go and let God,' meaning, 'I will do nothing and call it faith.' That is not spirituality; that is laziness wearing a church name tag.

The second error is moralism: 'Try harder and become better,' meaning, 'I will now produce divine life by clenching my jaw.' That is not sanctification; that is spiritual CrossFit without the Holy Spirit.

The biblical way is dependent effort. We act because God is at work in us (Phil. 2:12-13). Jerry Bridges expressed this balance well by insisting that holiness requires disciplined obedience while remaining rooted in grace.¹¹ John Stott likewise saw Galatians 5 as contrasting the flesh-driven life with the Spirit-led life, not between effort and no effort.¹² The question is not whether we act. The question is whether our action grows from grace or from self-salvation.

Here is the practical pathway.

Start with the soil. Return to reality. Ask: Am I living in truth, goodness, and beauty, or am I trying to grow spiritual fruit in fantasy, disorder, and ugliness?

Stand in the sunlight. Receive the grace of God. You are not loved because you are fruitful. You become fruitful because you are loved.

Breathe the atmosphere. What air are you breathing? Outrage? Hurry? Resentment? Comparison? Entertainment escapeism? Constant noise? The soul cannot breathe carbon monoxide and produce peaches. Create space for Scripture, prayer, worship, silence, confession, and Christian friendship. You know you need it.

Strengthen the roots. Ask what you honestly value. The fruit of peace will not grow from roots wrapped around control. The fruit of kindness will not grow from roots drinking contempt. The fruit of self-control will not grow from roots feeding on entitlement.

Build the trunk. Practice prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude. Stretch the limbs. Live by faith, hope, and love. The virtues do not replace the Spirit; they give shape and strength to Spirit-formed character.

Receive pruning. Jesus said the Father prunes fruitful branches so they bear more fruit (John 15:2). Pruning is not punishment. It is love with shears.

Practice the fruit relationally. Don’t simply admire patience. Be patient with the slow cashier line, the difficult church member, the child asking the same question for the eighth time, and the person who tells a story with more exits than the Atlanta airport.

Stay connected to Christ. Fruit comes from abiding, not from visiting or occasional checking in. Abiding.

The fruit of the Spirit is the apex of Christian character because it is where doctrine becomes disposition, where grace becomes reflex, where truth becomes beauty, and where the hidden life of the Spirit becomes visible in the believer's common Tuesday.

A mature Christian is not someone who merely knows more Bible, though we desperately need biblical depth. A mature Christian is someone who increasingly resembles the Christ to whom the Bible bears witness. The aim is not to become a religious expert with a personality problem. The aim is to become the kind of person who can do what Jesus would do if He were us - because His Spirit is forming His life in us.

That is why the fruit matters.

Not because it makes us impressive.

Not because it gives us spiritual bragging rights.

Not because it earns God's favor.

It matters because fruit means the tree is alive.

And in a world full of plastic plants, artificial flowers, fake smiles, manufactured outrage, and factory-made religion, a living tree is a miracle.

So stand in the soil of truth, goodness, and beauty. Receive the sunlight of God’s grace. Breathe the atmosphere of the Spirit. Let the sap flow through the means of grace. Sink your roots deep. Strengthen the trunk. Stretch the limbs. Receive the pruning. Keep in step. Stay in the orchard. 

And over time—usually slower than we’d like, deeper than we expect, and more beautiful than we deserve—the fruit will come.

Endnotes

1. My summary of the situation at Galatia came from Thomas R. Schreiner, Galatians, Zondervan Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2010), and Douglas J. Moo, Galatians, Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2013).

2. Gordon D. Fee, God's Empowering Presence: The Holy Spirit in the Letters of Paul (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994); John R. W. Stott, The Message of Galatians, The Bible Speaks Today (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1968).

3. C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves (London: Geoffrey Bles, 1960), pp. 171-173.

4. J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit: Illustrated By The Author (William Morrow, 2023), p. 62.

5. Fee, God's Empowering Presence.

6. J. I. Packer, Keep in Step with the Spirit: Finding Fullness in Our Walk with God, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2005), p.57.

7. Dallas Willard's Definitions and Quotes - Soul Shepherding, accessed October 2, 2025, https://www.soulshepherding.org/dallas-willards-definitions/

8. Dallas Willard, The Great Omission: Reclaiming Jesus's Essential Teachings on Discipleship (San Francisco: HarperOne, 2006), p. 61.

9. Kenneth Boa, Conformed to His Image: Biblical and Practical Approaches to Spiritual Formation (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2001), pp. 292-295. Ref: Romans 8:29; Ephesians 1:3-14; Ephesians 2:8-10.

10. Christopher J. H. Wright, The Mission of God: Unlocking the Bible’s Grand Narrative (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2006), 368–69.

11. Jerry Bridges, The Discipline of Grace: God’s Role and Our Role in the Pursuit of Holiness (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2006; repr., Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale House, 2018), vii–viii, 17–18.

12. John R. W. Stott, The Message of Galatians: Only One Way, The Bible Speaks Today (Leicester, England: Inter-Varsity Press; Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1968; repr., 1986), 146–50.

The Atmosphere of the Spirit

The Air We Forget We Are Breathing

Back when sailing ships ruled the seas, the clipper was the pride of the ocean. These beautiful ships had tall masts, more sails than you could count, and hulls built for speed. But if one of these ships sailed into the Doldrums—a stretch of ocean near the equator where the wind just gives up and goes on vacation—all that fancy design didn’t matter one bit. The sails drooped, the ship sat still, and the crew could do everything from scrubbing the decks to rowing until their arms gave out, but they weren’t going anywhere. They needed something they couldn’t create on their own: the wind. 

If we’re honest, we often try the same thing in our Christian lives. We need–no–we must have the Holy Spirit moving in our lives, but instead we treat Him like the backup generator—good to have in case of emergency, but not something we think about much. He gets a mention in our doctrinal statements, but when it comes to living out our faith, we act like Christian character is mainly a matter of better education, stronger willpower, and image management. In short, we live in the Doldrums, trying to row the ship ourselves, giving little thought to the massive power that we would have if we would but raise the sails.

That just won’t cut it.

When it comes to the Christian Character Tree, the Holy Spirit isn’t some late addition or an optional upgrade for the super-spiritual folks. He’s not the extended warranty package for believers who want a little extra holiness coverage. The Holy Spirit is the very air the tree breathes—the atmosphere where it lives, grows, bends, heals, and bears fruit. 

A tree doesn’t decide to breathe only on certain days. It either lives in the air or it doesn’t live at all. In the same way, Christian character doesn’t grow if we try to go it alone through self-effort. It grows in the presence, power, comfort, conviction, and life-giving breath of God’s Spirit.

This means the Spirit is present from beginning to end: in the soil, awakening the seed, reordering root values, deepening Beatitude roots, helping the soul absorb the nutrients of 2 Peter 1:5-7, moving through the sap of the means of grace, strengthening the trunk of Cardinal virtues, lifting the limbs of faith, hope, and love, ripening the fruit, steadying the tree through weather, guiding the pruning, and filling the orchard of the church.

Without Him, the tree isn’t just weak—it’s dead.

The Spirit as Atmosphere: The Personal Presence Around the Whole Tree

Before we talk about roots, nutrients, disciplines, virtues, and fruit, we must begin where Scripture begins: with the Spirit hovering over the waters, bringing life where there was formlessness and emptiness (Genesis 1:2). The Spirit is the divine breath of life. Job says, “The Spirit of God has made me, and the breath of the Almighty gives me life” (Job 33:4). Ezekiel sees a valley of dry bones, and life comes only when the breath of God enters them (Ezekiel 37:1-14).¹

This is important because Christian character doesn’t start with you deciding to pony up and get serious. It starts with God giving life. Remember Nicodemus? He had Bible knowledge, a solid reputation, and probably the coolest sandals in Jerusalem. But Jesus didn’t tell him, 'Nicodemus, you just need to try harder.' Instead, Jesus said, 'You need a new birth—something you can’t make happen on your own.' (John 3:3-8)

That is where the Christian Character Tree begins. The Spirit gives new birth, unites us to Christ, indwells us, seals us, leads us, empowers us, and bears witness that we are children of God (Romans 8:14-16). He is not an impersonal force, like theological electricity. He is the third person of the Trinity, the Lord and giver of life. The atmosphere image is useful only if we remember that this atmosphere is personal. We do not breathe a vague spiritual mood. We live before and by the Holy Spirit of God.²

Gordon Fee was right to press Christians to recover the centrality of the Spirit in the Christian life. The New Testament does not imagine a church that believes orthodox doctrines about the Spirit while, in practice, attempting sanctification through its own religious muscle. The Spirit is not decoration. He is life.³

I hope you get my point. Without the Holy Spirit giving zoe, or Spirit-life, we have no hope of developing the character of Christ in us. So we must continually seek His presence and submit to His Word and to His will for us. 

With this understanding, we can move on to the work of the Holy Spirit in the foundational reality of Christian Character. 

The Spirit and the Soil: Truth, Goodness, and Beauty Made Livable

The Christian Character Tree grows in the soil of the Transcendentals: Truth, Goodness, and Beauty. This is not meant to be decorative terms or abstract language. The Transcendental soil is the manifestation of God himself. It is living, real, and knowable. It is the difference between growing in God’s reality and trying to plant character in the loose gravel driveway of cultural confusion.

Truth is not what the loudest person on the internet declares or what most people “like.” Goodness is not what feels right at the moment. Beauty is not just what photographs well. Truth, Goodness, and Beauty are grounded in God Himself and revealed fully in Jesus Christ, who is "the way and the truth and the life" (John 14:6). We’ve gone over all this before.

The Holy Spirit keeps this soil alive. Jesus calls Him “the Spirit of truth” (John 16:13). The Spirit doesn’t lead believers into make-believe spirituality. He does not fertilize delusion. He anchors the soul in reality as God defines it. And God defines it the way He does because reality is found in Him. He is the source and the definition. For us, God uses the Word to sanctify us in truth (John 17:17), and He teaches us to dwell on what is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent, and praiseworthy (Philippians 4:8).

We need this desperately because our world is pretty good at poisoning the soil and then acting surprised when the trees look sick. We breathe in outrage, scroll through envy, snack on distraction, and soak in self-expression. Then we wonder why joy, peace, patience, and self-control can’t be found in the latest prescription drug commercial.

Peter Kreeft and Thomas Aquinas have helped me see that Truth, Goodness, and Beauty are not three random inspirational words. They name the shape of reality under God. Yet the Spirit makes them more than concepts. He makes truth honest, goodness desirable, and beauty holy. He teaches us that obedience is not God ruining our weekend, but God restoring us to sanity.⁴

The Spirit Awakens the Seed of God’s Living Design

The seed in the Christian Character Tree represents God’s living design and redemptive purpose. It is not like a blueprint. It is a living, growing design with purpose. 

God’s purpose is that believers be “conformed to the image of his Son” (Romans 8:29). That is the design inside the seed. The goal is not to become a slightly less irritating version of ourselves. The goal is Christlikeness; or as Dallas Willard described it as becoming like Christ in moral and character formation, so that, by grace, we increasingly do what Jesus would do if He were us.  

The Spirit plants and awakens this life through the gospel. He gives new birth. He joins us to Christ. He seals us as God’s own. He brings us into adoption so that we do not grow as spiritual orphans, forever trying to impress a Father who has already welcomed us in the Son. Todd Billings’s emphasis on union with Christ helps us here. Sanctification is not God handing us a  checklist and saying, “Good luck becoming holy.” It is life in Christ by the Spirit.⁵

The same Spirit who awakens faith also forms character. The same Spirit who makes us alive also makes us grow. The seed does not say, “I shall now become impressive”, and then have the power to follow through. The seed receives life, opens, responds, and grows because the Spirit has breathed into it. 

This protects us from two opposite errors. One error says, “I can grow myself if I just try hard enough.” The other says, “Since growth is God’s work, I will just sit back and watch.” Scripture rejects both. God gives life, and living things grow. Grace comes first, but grace never leaves the tree dormant in the dirt. Paul wrote to the Corinthians how by God’s grace he was who he was, yet he labored more than anyone, but it was not himself, but the grace of God that was in him. (1 Corinthians 15:10)

The Spirit Reorders Root Values: What the Soul Learns to Prize

Before roots absorb nutrients, the soul must learn what’s nourishing. This is where root values matter. Values are the root permissions of the soul. They decide what the roots reach for.

If the soul prizes comfort more than Christ, it will absorb excuses. If it prizes approval more than truth, it will absorb flattery. If it prizes control more than faith, it will absorb anxiety and may even call it responsibility. If it prizes platform more than people, it will absorb applause while starving love.

The Holy Spirit reorders what we love.

This is why moral instruction alone is not enough. You can tell a greedy heart that generosity is good, but that doesn’t make generosity desirable. You can tell an angry person that gentleness is biblical, but that doesn’t make gentleness feel safe. You can tell a distracted Christian to pray more, but if the soul prizes noise, prayer will feel like punishment.

John Owen understood that sin is not just bad behavior sitting on the surface. It is a disordered desire deep in the person. Dallas Willard similarly warned that the body and its habits must be retrained under Christ. The Spirit does this deep work, not by zapping us into instant maturity, but by reorienting our love through grace, Scripture, worship, obedience, confession, and ordinary practice.⁶

The Spirit teaches us to value veracity over spin, teachability over defensiveness, integrity over image management, liberation over indulgence, grit over comfort, honor over usefulness, faithfulness over drift, splendor over cheap spectacle, thankfulness over entitlement, adoration over idolatry, and assurance over panic.

This isn’t a weekend project. To borrow Willard’s terminology, it’s a holy renovation of the heart. And let’s be honest, like sanding down a popcorn ceiling, the dust gets everywhere.

The Spirit Deepens the Beatitude Roots

The Beatitudes are the root system of Christian character. They are not greeting-card inspirations from Dollar Tree. They are the hidden postures of people who live under the reign of Christ: poor in spirit, mourning, meek, hungry for righteousness, merciful, pure in heart, peacemaking, and faithful under pressure (Matthew 5:1-12).⁷

The Spirit grows these roots deep underground, where nobody is offering applause.

That’s a little inconvenient, because most of us would like to see visible fruit arrive by one-day Amazon Prime. We want patience without having to wait, meekness without anyone misunderstanding us, mercy without difficult people, purity without temptation, peacemaking without conflict, and righteousness without any cost. In other words, we want resurrection without crucifixion—which sounds nice, but it’s not the way God works, or the gospel.

D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones saw poverty of spirit as the first great mark of kingdom life: the end of self-reliant pride before God. That is where the roots begin. The Spirit brings us low, not to crush us, but to make us receptive. Proud roots do not drink grace. They admire themselves while drying out.⁸  

Looking at ourselves, the Spirit softens the soil of the heart. He opens roots that sin has clenched shut. He teaches us to mourn without despair, hunger without self-righteousness, forgive without superiority, and endure without becoming hard. He develops a hidden receptivity to the kingdom before He produces public evidence of it.

The Spirit Helps the Roots Absorb the Nutrients of 2 Peter 1:5-7

Second Peter 1:5-7 gives the nutrients of Christian growth: faith, virtue, knowledge, self-control, steadfastness, godliness, brotherly affection, and love. But Peter does not begin with human effort. He first says God’s divine power has granted us all things that pertain to life and godliness (2 Peter 1:3).⁹

That order matters. Grace first. Then effort. Supply first. Then diligence. Life first. Then growth.

Spirit makes this possible. He keeps “make every effort” from becoming “try harder until you hate yourself”. Willard's distinction is helpful: grace is opposed to earning, not effort. The Christian life involves training, but training is not self-salvation. It is cooperation with the Spirit's life.¹⁰

The Spirit takes these nutrients and makes them living realities. Faith becomes trust that acts. Virtue becomes goodness with backbone. Knowledge becomes wisdom instead of trivia. Self-control becomes freedom from tiny dictators with appetites. Steadfastness becomes long obedience. Godliness becomes life before the face of God. Brotherly affection becomes family loyalty. Love becomes the summit of Christlike character.

Without the Spirit, these are words on a page. With the Spirit, they become nourishment in the tree. He does not bypass our effort; He makes effort humble, dependent, and fruitful.

The Spirit Moves Through the Sap of the Means of Grace

Sap represents the Spirit-carried means of grace and holy habits: Scripture, prayer, worship, confession, fellowship, Sabbath, fasting, generosity, lament, hospitality, and obedience, among others.

This is where many Christians get nervous. The moment we mention disciplines, somebody hears legalism approaching the front door. But disciplines are not merit badges for the spiritually athletic. They are not ways of making God favor us. They are ways of placing ourselves where God changes us. Nobody earns sunlight by opening the curtains. Yet, to enjoy the sunlight, you still have to open the curtains. Right?

The Spirit moves through the sap. He illuminates Scripture. He helps us pray when we do not know how to pray (Romans 8:26-27). He convicts us of sin. He comforts us in weakness. He strengthens the inner person (Ephesians 3:16). He uses worship to reorder loves, confession to expose infection, Sabbath to train trust, fasting to dethrone appetite, and fellowship to keep us from becoming overgrown.¹¹

Leopoldo Sánchez has a wonderful image of the Spirit as Sculptor. I think it is useful here. The Spirit does not use only one tool. Sometimes He renews. Sometimes He confronts. Sometimes He serves through us. Sometimes He teaches hospitality. Sometimes He slows us down until we stop mistaking hurry for faithfulness.¹²

Sap isn’t flashy. It’s faithful. In our wider culture and even in our church culture, flashy gets all the press. Flashy gets the platform. But in God’s kingdom, the faithful usually beats flashy by a mile—and then some.

The Spirit Strengthens the Trunk and Lifts the Limbs

The trunk of the Christian Character Tree is load-bearing character: prudence, justice, temperance and fortitude. These Cardinal Virtues provide moral structure. They are necessary for every thriving society. They help a person become strong enough for real life: family conflict, ministry disappointment, temptation, criticism, grief, success, and the weekly Wednesday evening service when nobody is impressed by your preparations.¹³

The Spirit strengthens the trunk from within. Prudence becomes wisdom in action. Justice becomes giving God and neighbor what is due. Temperance becomes rightly ordered desire. Fortitude becomes courage under pressure.

C. S. Lewis warned against producing “men without chests” - people with clever heads and strong appetites but no trained moral center. I’ve used this reference to Lewis a lot because it is still a painfully accurate description of much modern life. We have information in the head, craving in the belly, and a missing trunk in the middle. The Spirit grows the chest. He thickens the trunk. He makes convictions durable.¹⁴

The limbs of the tree are faith, hope, and love. These Theological Virtues stretch Godward and outward. Faith receives God’s Word. Hope endures toward God’s future. Love seeks the good of God and neighbor. Without faith, character becomes self-reliant. Without hope, character becomes grim. Without love, character becomes a very impressive dead branch.

Tolkien’s Leaf by Niggle gives us a beautiful picture of hope. Niggle spends his life trying to paint a great tree, but only manages to finish a leaf. His work seems unfinished, interrupted, and unimpressive. Yet beyond death, he finds the tree completed. The little leaf was not wasted. That is Spirit-shaped hope. The Spirit teaches us that no act of faithfulness in Christ is lost.¹⁵

The Spirit Ripens the Fruit

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23). Notice the phrase: fruit of the Spirit.¹⁶

Not the fruit of personality. Not the fruit of Southern manners, now bless all your hearts. Not the fruit of church attendance alone. Not the fruit of trying not to embarrass your family in public.

The fruit belongs to the Spirit because the life belongs to the Spirit. We can, and should, cultivate, train, obey, repent, practice, and abide. But we cannot manufacture spiritual fruit any more than a branch can staple apples onto itself and call it a harvest.

J. I. Packer’s “floodlight” image is helpful here. The Spirit shines light on Christ so that we see Him, love Him, trust Him, and become like Him. The Spirit does not draw attention away from Jesus. He joins us to Jesus and keeps us looking at Jesus.¹⁷  “And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.” 2 Corinthians 3:18

Fruit ripens as the Spirit keeps us abiding in Christ. Love grows as we behold the love of Christ. Joy grows as grace becomes more real than circumstances. Peace grows as the Father’s care becomes more believable than panic. Patience grows in actual waiting rooms, actual traffic, actual church meetings, and actual people who require more sanctification than we were hoping to need today.

The fruit is what people see, but the real work happens deep down. That’s why stapling fruit onto a branch never works. Plastic fruit might look good from a distance, but nobody gets fed by it.

The Spirit Interprets Weather, Guides Pruning, and Fills the Orchard

The Christian Character Tree does not grow in a climate-controlled greenhouse with worship music at a bearable volume. It grows in real weather: blessing, suffering, waiting, criticism, loss, success, weakness, conflict, delay, disappointment, illness, opportunity, and obscurity.

The Spirit does not remove weather. He interprets it and uses it. Romans 8 does not say all things are good. It says God works all things together for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose, and that purpose is conformity to Christ (Romans 8:28-29).

Storms reveal roots. Heat exposes shallow soil. Wind tests trunk strength. Drought teaches dependence. The Spirit uses weather not to destroy the tree, but to deepen it. This does not make suffering pleasant. It keeps suffering from being meaningless.

The Spirit also guides pruning. Jesus says the Father prunes fruitful branches so they may bear more fruit (John 15:2). Pruning is not rejection. It is painful love. Owen’s teaching on mortification remains one of the strongest warnings here: you must put sin to death by the Spirit. Not managed. Not renamed. Not decorated. Killed.¹⁸

Lewis gives us a memorable picture in Eustace, the boy who becomes a dragon because he has been thinking dragonish thoughts. Eustace cannot scrape off the dragon skin deeply enough. Aslan must do what Eustace wants, but cannot do for himself. That is pruning. That is mortification. That is the Spirit cutting deeper than self-improvement can reach.¹⁹

And don’t forget, the tree grows in an orchard. That orchard is the church. This matters because let’s face it, we’re pretty good at turning discipleship into a solo project. We want Christlike character, but we’d rather skip the difficult people, awkward conversations, membership, accountability, forgiveness, patience, serving, and especially committee meetings. In other words, we want the fruit of the orchard without having to live in the orchard.

But the Spirit forms a people. He gives gifts for the building up of the body (1 Corinthians 12; Ephesians 4:11-16). He teaches the “one another” life. He makes the church a living ecosystem of worship, truth, correction, mercy, service, reconciliation, and mission. Trees grow better together. They shelter one another. They share soil. They resist storms. They produce an orchard witness that one isolated tree cannot produce alone.²⁰

Breathe

The Christian Character Tree lives because the Spirit breathes into it. He breathes into you. (John 20:22)

He is present in the soil of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty. He awakens the seed of God's living design. He reorders root values. He deepens Beatitude roots. He helps the soul to absorb the nutrients of 2 Peter 1. He moves through the sap of spiritual practices. He strengthens the trunk of virtue. He lifts the limbs of faith, hope, and love. He ripens the fruit. He steadies the tree in the weather. He guides pruning. He fills up the orchard.

So the Christian life isn’t about trying harder and hoping God grades on a curve.

It is to walk by the Spirit. Keep in step with the Spirit. Pray in the Spirit. Be strengthened by the Spirit. Bear the fruit of the Spirit. Breathe the atmosphere of the Spirit.

Because without Him, all we’ve got is a pile of religious lumber.

But with Him, dead wood becomes a living tree.

And living trees, in time, bear fruit.

Now breathe.

Endnotes

1. Scripture references are drawn from the English Standard Version unless otherwise noted.

2. Romans 8:14-16; 2 Corinthians 3:17-18; Galatians 5:16-25. See ; Graham A. Cole, He Who Gives Life: The Doctrine of the Holy Spirit (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2007); and Sinclair B. Ferguson, The Holy Spirit (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1996).

3. Gordon D. Fee, God’s Empowering Presence: The Holy Spirit in the Letters of Paul (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994), pp. 1-6. This has been one of the most influential books in my life on the Holy Spirit.  See also Graham A. Cole, He Who Gives Life: The Doctrine of the Holy Spirit (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2007); and Sinclair B. Ferguson, The Holy Spirit (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1996).

4. Peter Kreeft, Back to Virtue: Traditional Moral Wisdom for Modern Moral Confusion (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1992); Peter Kreeft, Wisdom of the Heart: The Good, the True, and the Beautiful at the Center of Us All (Gastonia, NC: TAN Books, 2020); Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, I-II and II-II on truth, goodness, beauty, and virtue.

5. Kenneth Boa, Conformed to His Image: Biblical and Practical Approaches to Spiritual Formation (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2001), pp. 292-295. Ref: Romans 8:29; Ephesians 1:3-14; Ephesians 2:8-10. 

6. John Owen, The Mortification of Sin (Scotland: Christian Focus, 1996), pp. 27-32. This version of Owen’s book uses modern language, which was very helpful for me. For practical application see Dallas Willard, Renovation of the Heart: Putting On the Character of Christ (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2002); Dallas Willard, The Spirit of the Disciplines: Understanding How God Changes Lives (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1991).

7. Matthew 5:1-12; Luke 6:20-26. For the Beatitudes as kingdom character, see D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Studies in the Sermon on the Mount (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1971), and D. A. Carson, Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount and His Confrontation with the World (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1999).

8. D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Studies in the Sermon on the Mount (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1971). pp. 41-52. 

9. 2 Peter 1:3-11; Titus 2:11-14. These passages hold together divine provision, grace-trained obedience, and diligent growth.

10. Dallas Willard, The Great Omission: Reclaiming Jesus’s Essential Teachings on Discipleship (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2006), p.61.

11. Romans 8:26-27; Ephesians 3:16; Colossians 3:16-17; 1 Timothy 4:7-8; Hebrews 10:24-25.

12. Leopoldo A. Sánchez M., Sculptor Spirit: Models of Sanctification from Spirit Christology (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2019).

13. Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, I-II, qq. 61-62; Kreeft, Back to Virtue; Somewhat helpful is John M. Frame, The Doctrine of the Christian Life (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2008).

14. C. S. Lewis, The Abolition of Man (New York: HarperOne, 2001). p.25.

15. J. R. R. Tolkien, "Leaf by Niggle", in Tree and Leaf (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1964).

16. Galatians 5:16-25; John 15:1-8; Colossians 3:12-17.

17. J. I. Packer, Keep in Step with the Spirit: Finding Fullness in Our Walk with God, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2005), p. 57.

18. John 15:2; Romans 8:13. See also John Owen, The Mortification of Sin, on putting sin to death by the Spirit.

19. C. S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, from the complete edition The Chronicles of Narnia (New York: Barns & Nobel, 2001), pp. 474-475. 

20. 1 Corinthians 12; Ephesians 4:11-16; Hebrews 10:24-25. See Kenneth Boa, Conformed to His Image: Biblical and Practical Approaches to Spiritual Formation (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2001), pp. 415-424.