Galatians 5:22-26; 6:1-2
Freedom is more than independence from tyranny—it is the freedom to become what we were created to be. Reflecting on St. Paul’s teaching about the fruit of the Spirit, this homily explores how the Christian life is a lifelong journey of growth, repentance, and transformation. Christ has already won the decisive victory; our task is simply to remain united to Him and let His life bear fruit within us. Enjoy the show!
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Notes:
This weekend our nation celebrates the Declaration of Independence. Whatever else one thinks about our country’s history—and there is certainly plenty to celebrate and plenty to repent of—the Declaration itself is a remarkable document.
It is, first, a rejection. It rejects tyranny. It rejects the idea that human beings exist merely to serve the ambitions of earthly rulers.
But it is also a commitment. It commits a people to a new way of life, built upon certain convictions about human dignity, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
Now, if we’re honest, those words have never perfectly described America at any point in her history. But they do describe what Americans have continually aspired to become. They are ideals by which each generation measures itself, calls itself to repentance, and tries once again to live more faithfully.
As your priest, I’m not terribly interested in convincing you about apple pie, hot dogs, and patriotism. I mention this because it gives us a helpful analogy for today’s epistle.
Christianity and our own life in Christ also begins with a declaration.
We have rejected tyranny. Not simply the tyranny of earthly rulers, but the tyranny of sin, death, and the passions.
We have united ourselves to Christ, the One who is Himself Life, Liberty, Truth, and the source of every good thing.
But just as the Declaration did not instantly produce a perfect nation, Baptism does not instantly produce a perfect Christian.
So St. Paul asks us, in effect, “How are we doing?”
Not how are we feeling. Not what opinions do we hold. Not which controversies have we won or followed online. But what fruit is growing?
Let’s look at the list:
Love.
Is my heart becoming more capable of loving people who irritate me, disappoint me, or disagree with me?
Joy.
Not entertainment. Not excitement. But that quiet confidence that Christ is risen and therefore nothing essential can ever be taken from me.
Peace.
Or am I continually agitated by politics, by the news, by social media, by the next crisis that promises to be the end of civilization?
Patience.
Especially with those whose spiritual growth is slower than I think it ought to be—or perhaps slower than my own.
Kindness.
Goodness.
Faithfulness.
Gentleness.
Self-control.
Notice how ordinary these are.
St. Paul isn’t describing spectacular miracles.
He is describing the slow transformation of the human heart.
And that’s especially important for those who have recently entered the Church.
Many converts—and if we’re honest, cradle Orthodox too—expect to become saints in about six months. (And the expectation of instant gratification really has become more American than apple pie!)
Then they discover they still struggle with anger. Still become impatient. Still have distracting thoughts during prayer. Still fall into old habits. Still have days when joy seems very far away.
St. Paul isn’t surprised by any of this. He doesn’t say, “If you fail once, perhaps you were never really a Christian.” He says, “The fruit of the Spirit is …”
Fruit grows. Fruit takes seasons. Fruit appears because the tree remains alive.
And if you stumble along the way?
He immediately tells us what the Church is supposed to do.
“If a man is overtaken in any trespass, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness.”
Restore him.
Not shame him. Not crush him.
Restore him.
And then, “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.”
This is what the Church is. This is what this parish is. Not a gathering of people who have already become perfect. But a family helping one another keep walking toward Christ. Because here is the Gospel.
The tyranny has already been overthrown. Christ has already conquered sin. Christ has already conquered death. Christ has already opened Paradise. The victory does not depend on tomorrow’s election. Or the next war. Or picking the winner in the latest internet controversy. Or lamenting the newest heresy making the rounds on YouTube.
Christ reigns.
Our task is not to panic. Our task is not to become experts in every cultural battle.
Our task is to live by the Spirit.
To keep returning to Christ, so that it is:
“Christ with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ in me,
and Christ beneath me,”
To keep opening the eyes of the heart—the noetic faculty God has given us—to receive the grace that He never ceases to pour out.
Because the more we abide in Him, the more His life becomes our life.
And then, slowly, almost without noticing it, love grows. Joy grows. Peace grows. Patience grows.
Kindness. Goodness. Faithfulness. Gentleness. Self-control.
That is what freedom looks like.
Not merely freedom from tyranny.
Freedom for communion with God.
And that is the independence worth celebrating every day of our lives.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
