By Their Fruits

Jesus is pretty clear that it's not about lip service, it's about incarnate, embodied ministry.

Isaiah 35:1-10

 Canticle 15

James 5:7-10

Matthew 11:2-11

 

© 2025 The Rev. Seth Olson

 

This sermon was preached on Sunday, December 14^th at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles in Hoover, AL. You may view a video of the sermon by clicking here.

 

Holy God, let my words be your words, and when they are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen. 

 

Beloved in Christ, there is a sentence Jesus speaks in this week’s Gospel that lands differently when the world around us feels anxious and reactive. Jesus says, “You will know them by their fruits.” Not by their slogans. Not by their power. Not by how loudly they say, “Lord, Lord.” But by the fruits of their lives. 

 

Jesus teaches this because human beings, especially religious human beings, often confuse conviction with correctness, or fear with faithfulness. And sometimes—God help us—we confuse identity with discipleship. 

 

This past week, our own city of Hoover has been in the news. Some have spoken at public meetings expressing concern, fear, or outright opposition to the creation of a new Islamic school. I’m not here to adjudicate zoning, land use, or financial feasibility—that is not my lane—and I would be wholly out of my depths discussing proper city planning. But I am here to speak—in love—to the Christian reasoning that some have used to justify opposition. Because friends, we must be very, very careful when we invoke Jesus’ name to build walls that He Himself tore down. 

 

Let me say this clearly: If your objection to this school is economic, or infrastructural, or traffic-based—that is civic conversation—and it is good and right to engage in weighing the pros and cons. But if your objection is that Hoover is a “Christian town” and Muslims are a “foreign religion,” that is not Christianity speaking. That is fear wearing a cross as camouflage. And I say that with compassion, because fear is a very human response. 

 

I understand that any change can stir up anxiety. That’s human. But Jesus never let fear steer the ship. And so, Jesus calls us to something deeper. Because here is the truth: Jesus never called His followers to build an exclusive community that shuts others out; He sends us into the world, not away from it. 

 

And Jesus envisioned His followers living among all kinds of people, not separating themselves from them. Think about His entire earthly ministry: He lived in a religiously mixed society—Jews, Samaritans, Roman polytheists, Greek philosophers, zealots, sinners, the faithful, the faithless, the seekers, the tired, the forgotten, and… 

He did not fear them. 

He ate with them. 

He healed them. 

He blessed them. 

He spoke truth to them. 

He received hospitality from them. 

He called some of them to follow Him. 

 

Let’s remember a few of His encounters: 

• The Samaritan woman at the well—member of a rival religion. Jesus reveals to her more than to any disciple. 

• The Roman centurion—a soldier of the occupying force. Jesus marvels: “I have not found such faith in all Israel.” 

• The Syrophoenician woman—a mother from a foreign religion. Jesus learns from her boldness and expands His ministry. 

• The parable of the Good Samaritan—the outsider is the neighbor; the religious insiders walk by. 

 

Friends, our Lord Jesus lived his entire life as a faithful Jew, not a Christian. And He saw the faith of outsiders, the dignity of strangers, and yes—the presence of God beyond the boundaries of His own religious tradition. 

 

And today’s Gospel—which is all about being known not by what we say but by what we do—leads us to this truth: Real faith is recognized not by correctness but by fruit. By healing. By mercy. By justice. By welcome. By courage. By love. 

 

This is why I think about Jesus’ words in John’s Gospel, where He calls Himself the Good Shepherd. And then He says something astonishing: “I have sheep that are not of this fold.” 

 

Jesus, the one we claim as Lord, believes that God is bigger than our boundaries. Bigger than our maps. Bigger than our categories. Bigger than our religions—even as He works within His own tradition faithfully. Even as He works in this Faith—this Tradition in which we are called Christians because we are all called to be “little Christs.” Which leads me to believe: If Jesus can imagine God’s care for people beyond His fold, surely we as His followers can make room for our Muslim neighbors to flourish. Not in spite of our Christian faith. But because of it. 

 

Opening our hearts to our neighbors of other faiths doesn’t weaken our Christian identity—it strengthens it, because it roots us more deeply in Jesus’ own way. If a Muslim school produces children who are compassionate, curious, committed to justice… 

If it teaches respect, diligence, love of neighbor… 

If its graduates bless our city—then Jesus’ own standard applies: “You will know them by their fruits.” 

 

And likewise—If we Christians in this city produce division, exclusion, suspicion, or fear—Jesus’ standard still applies: “You will know them by their fruits.” 

 

I am not preaching at anyone here. I am preaching for us—so that the world sees the real Jesus through us. Not the Jesus of political talking points. Not the Jesus of culture wars. Not the Jesus invoked to defend territory or to justify sinful behavior that distorts our relationships with neighbor, Creation, ourselves, and God. Not any of that… 

But instead, may we reveal the Jesus who moved toward the other, not away. The Jesus who crossed lines, not reinforced them. The Jesus whose courage came from love, not from fear. The Jesus whose power was shown not in dominance but in mercy. So if you ask, “How do I talk with people who use Christianity to injure those of other faiths?” 

 

I have five steps, and if you are thinking, I’m not going to remember any of this, do not fret. I’ve made a conversation guide that you can pick up on your way out of church. 

 

You might begin here: 
1. Ask them about Jesus’ example, not their opinions. “Where in the Gospels does Jesus avoid or oppose people of other religions?” 

2. Invite them into curiosity. “Have you ever met a Muslim family? Have you heard their hopes for their children?” 

3. Use fruit language. “What fruit will this decision produce in our city? Fear or hospitality? Division or relationship?” 

4. Remind them of the Great Commandment. It’s not “Love your neighbor if they are Christian.” It’s Love your neighbor. Full stop. 

5. And remind them of the Great Commission when Jesus tells His followers to go into all nations to baptize and model everything He commanded—which always brings us back to the heart of His teaching: Love God. Love Neighbor. 

 

The Church grows through witness, not domination. Through light breaking through the cracks—not through building thicker walls. Through invitation, not intimidation. 

 

Beloved, I don’t know what our great city of Hoover will decide. I don’t know what the council and mayor will approve. I don’t know how everything will shake out. But I do know what kind of Christians we are called to be: 

People whose faith bears fruit worthy of the One we follow. 

People who walk in love, not fear. 

People who embody the wideness of God’s mercy. 

People who trust that Jesus meant it when He said, “Blessed are the peacemakers for they will be called Children of God.” 

 

And if we do that—if we become known in Hoover as a church that is curious, compassionate, humble, and brave—then we will be a signal flare in this city: a community willing to have the hard conversations, a people unafraid to stand in truth, a church striving to look, live, and be like Jesus. 

 

And friends—that is the fruit that will last. And Christ knows, we make his Name known not only by what we say or think, but mostly by how we live, and move, and have our being. 

 

So, beloved, what kind of fruit will we bear? 

Beware the Home Run Sermon

When we abide as branches on the vine we bear good fruit.

Every once in a while when I open up www.lectionarypage.net to look at the coming Sunday’s lessons, I find myself instinctively doing a quiet fist pump at my computer. On those days when I am so excited by the upcoming texts it is usually disaster waiting to happen. My colleague Evan D. Garner and I sometimes discuss this hubris of the preacher. If the one in the pulpit is so sure of herself or himself, then she or he presumably has relied too much on her or his strength and not on the Lord’s. So, as I get excited about the bounty that is this Sunday’s lessons, I pray that I may allow the Spirit to work through me for God’s glory—instead of misguidedly believing I will march into the pulpit with a home run sermon.

There is of course some good reason to be excited about the readings for the 5th Sunday of Easter. We begin with Philip’s encounter with Candace’s eunuch from Ethiopia. A chariot ride bible study ended with Philip baptizing the eunuch through the power of the Spirit. Then, Philip vanished by the abilities of that same Spirit. God’s Holy Word, Holy Baptism, and the Holy Spirit—what’s not to love about that story?

Sometimes preachers like me completely overlook the wisdom and beauty of the Psalm appointed for Sunday morning. The portion of the Psalter (Psalm 22:24-30) we will read points to the transformative power of God’s resurrecting love that Jesus made known. However, that power always exists. And, it always existed. Those who sleep in the earth bow to the earth, even those in the dust know of God’s power—even before they are resurrected at the eschaton—the end of days. This part of the Psalter touches on what the reading from John’s First Letter gives to us also.

In Sunday’s reading from 1 John we discover one of the most beautiful portions of the New Testament—God is love. Having just celebrated at a friend’s wedding, I have that context for this reading stuck in my mind. Still, this truth that we are God’s beloved does not simply apply to those making life-long vows. No, in truth God’s seeing us as beloved applies to all of God’s children. Like the Psalmist, John trusted that we belong and abide in God. John amplified that belief through the perfecting of love that Jesus exemplified for us. In other words, Jesus showed us what perfect—as in fulfilling—love looks like.

Finally, the reading from the Good News of Christ Jesus according to John provides a capstone for this theme of abiding in God through God’s fruitful love. The analogy of a vine extending to branches gives to us an image of what that love will do in our lives. Jesus is our vine and we are his branches. When we abide in God’s life-giving love our lives will overrun with a tangible, tasty, sweet, healthy, and fragrant fruit.

As this week continues, instead of relying upon ourselves to bear fruit, I pray that we—especially preachers—may allow the vine to manifest in our hearts, our lives, our actions, our thoughts, and our words. May we abide in God’s love. May we know that God’s fulfilling love sustains all things. May we be God’s beloved branches bearing God’s fruit in this world.

Bearing Fruit Means Tending to Soil

Mrs. Albritton was my second grade teacher. In her classroom stood, what seemed to me, a giant “apple tree.” Of course, on that tree no real apples hung, but instead red, laminated, cardboard paper apples dangled from brown yarn. Whenever Mrs. Albritton saw one of her students do something kind, studious, or otherwise noteworthy she would give out an apple. If a student received three apples she or he could pick out a small prize, if a student received four apples a slightly larger prize, and if a student was so bold as to receive five apples the really big prizes came out.

One particular afternoon I was on the verge of history in Mrs. Albritton’s class. I cannot recall the exact circumstances, but suffice it to say I had been “on fire,” achieving five apples already before heading to recess. Now on the way back to the classroom from some time on the playground I managed to do some deed of kindness that merited Mrs. Albritton giving me an unprecedented sixth apple. Some people in my class gave me a snide glare, but for the most part my classmates gave me high fives. Mrs. Albritton almost did not know what she had done handing out that illusive sixth apple.

While I cannot recall exactly what I did to achieve all those apples and I could not tell you what sort of prize a student gets when managing to pick all those cardboard trophies from the tree, I do know that even way back then I was obsessed with achieving fruit. Not actual fruit, although I love blueberries, strawberries, and the occasional apple, but rather, I have always been one to seek with verve and vigor results that all can see. But what happens when I do not produce the fruit? What if a bird swoops in to steal away the seeds, what if the sun scorches my attempts, or what if I get caught up in the weeds? I mean can I really help the soil in which I am planted?

So often I misinterpret this parable from Jesus. I mistakenly believe that we are the seeds being planted. I have even got into fights with friends defending those “planted in the rougher soil.” Yet the more I hear this enigmatic tale of God’s gardening, the more I realize that I am not the seed. I am the one receiving the seed.

During my time at seminary we began a community garden initiative, much like what has happened here at St. John’s. All students were given a composting box within which they could put certain biodegradable material and later take it to our communal composting pile. This process always fascinated me. I did not like to do it because it reeked something awful, but going and seeing the various piles at different stages of being turned into topsoil amazed me. One pile not very far along still possessed visible chunks of pasta, banana peels, and avocado skins. The next heap, broken down by natural degradation carried a brownish hue. Finally the almost “ready” compost sat with a rich blackness about it. In the colder months the piles would steam from the chemical breakdown that occurred.

Perhaps we might see Jesus’ parable of the sower and the soil through the lens of community gardeners who anxiously await the day when the soil will be ready. At times in our lives the Sower (Our God) might be sharing the seed with us only to have us too busy or too consumed with our day to day tasks to understand His Word. Other times something evil crops up in our lives and even if the soil appears ready we are distracted by a sin that takes us from God.

The soil of our hearts needs time to break down, to become ready so that we can faithfully receive the seed of God’s word. Even if we are obsessed with bearing fruit, like a second grader seeking affirmation through cardboard apples, the environment of our souls might not be in the right season for planting seeds. The good news is that our faithful sower will continue to spread shower His Word upon our lives. God will perpetually scatter his seeds. Let us tend to our soil, so that we might receive God and allow God’s word to grow in us bearing fruit thirty, sixty, and a hundred fold.

Are You Bearing Good Fruit?

When I go to the grocery store I like to check where the fruit on the produce shelves is grown. Often it says Mexico, or if it is organic the label reads “Product of California.” At this time of year most of that fruit, shipped thousands of miles to get to our grocery stores is so dang expensive and not all that fresh, so I opt for something else. Sometimes though I will get a yearning for some fruit and so I will take a chance on some strawberries, blueberries, or raspberries, even when they are not in season locally. I have found that there is little in life that is less satisfying than biting into a strawberry that I paid too much for just to have it taste bitter, stale, or mushy. We all want good fruit, especially our vinegrower, but what makes good fruit?

At the age of 20 I took an outreach trip to Quito, Ecuador during Spring Break. Sewanee’s outreach department called it Alternative Spring Break. For nine days we stayed in a hostel, helped to build a school, played with children, taught a hygiene program, and processed our experience. One of the leaders, a woman named Cameron Graham Vivanco, explained to us a phenomenon in short term missions.

Cameron stated that most short term outreach, anything from a couple hours to twelve months of mission, is meant to inspire the persons who go on the trip to do something more. It was not to be seen merely as a trip, like a vacation, but rather a starting point that would change one’s life. She explained further that when one returns home he or she will go through stages of readjusting to home culture and one’s home life. There are commonly five such stages and they all begin with the letter F.

First, it is FUN to be back in one’s home culture. The language makes sense. One can order off the menu at a restaurant without hesitation. Home culture is comfortable.

Yet, home culture can seem strange and overbearing after being somewhere else. Therefore many people will FLEE that culture. This is when one starts to think, “The people in Ecuador have it right. They did it this way or that way. They live more simply or more positively.”

Often, this leads to the third F, which is FIGHTING. One might find home culture problematic and will do battle with that culture. Cameron told the story of going to Jamaica where there was not hot water, so to fight her home culture she stopped taking hot showers for a couple months.

Most people eventually give up the fight after some time and end up in the fourth F, as they FIT back into their culture. This is when the missional experience just turns into a photo album on one’s shelf or one’s computer. This is why most experts who work long term in mission say to short term mission groups, just send us your money. You will waste our time and your time if you just end up falling back into the same routines as before.

However, the last stage is the goal, not just of short term missions, but of our relationship with Christ, our relationship with God, and our life here on earth. The fifth F is FRUIT. If a short term mission experience was provocative, life-changing, and spirit-filled, then quite often it will lead to bearing good fruit.
Later I would return to Ecuador three times as an Alternative Spring Break leader. Each time we talked about the most important part of the experience was coming home. Each time the group worked on going through the first four F’s, so that we could begin to bear good fruit. Yet, still I find myself wondering, what is good fruit?

Jesus is our vine. He is the source through which we are fed. God is the tender of us branches. The vine tender will watch over our growth, will clean us off when we get to dirty, and water us with living water. Sometimes I worry about whether or not I am good enough. I focus on the times when I have grown in the wrong direction or taken more than my share of food or blocked others from the light. Yet, God does not worry about this, he finds those parts of us that are effecting good growth and with a kind heart clips away that which is not fruitful.

We can worry about whether or not we are good enough as we are. The message though is not about our being. We are already connected to the vine. We are already branches. We are part of God’s work in the world. God is calling us through Christ to bear good fruit, not just to fit into our culture, but to bring the love of God to those who need something sweet to eat.