Fruitful Aging

One of my favorite things about growing older is God’s invitation to focus more on fruitfulness than on productivity. It is also one of the most difficult invitations for me to embrace.

The Apostle Paul said that the fruits of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22,23, NRSV).  I memorized those verses in high school (in King James English, of course) but most of my life I thought more about my work and my achievements than I did about the fruits of the Sprit. I lived by my self-made standards of doing all things perfectly (in my own mind) and enjoying the accolades of others. Now, God is inviting me to “change my way of thinking” (Ephesians 4:23, CEV).

Jesus and The Fig Tree

Matthew’s description of Jesus’ encounter with a fig tree reminds me of how important this is.

In the morning, when [Jesus] returned to the city, he was hungry.  And seeing a fig tree by the side of the road, he went to it and found nothing at all on it but leaves. Then he said to it, “May no fruit ever come from you again!” And the fig tree withered at once (Matthew 21:18-19, NRSV).

I used to think that Jesus’ words to the fig tree were odd and abrupt. But now, in my senior years, I see it differently. Jesus’ strong words tell us how important it is to bear fruit that can nourish others, not produce the “leaves” of outer appearances.

This vignette from Matthew invites me to use my imagination, picture myself at the scene, and see how Jesus might have included me in the conversation. If Jesus had been walking with a group of senior citizens when he encountered the fig tree, I wonder if he would have reminded us about the risk of focusing on the past in ways that keep us from focusing on fruitfulness. After a lifetime of working hard—at our jobs, in our families, in the church, we may be tempted to wave the leaves of these accomplishments. Jesus takes this temptation very seriously and wants to be sure we continue to bear fruit as we age.

In my younger years, when I first learned about the fruits of the Spirit, I wanted to experience all of them. But I was too busy with my work to be patient and too impatient with myself to be gentle with others. I wanted to experience more joy, but I was weighed down by the responsibilities of life. I definitely wanted self-control, but it was the kind that would help me control life myself. Looking back, I can see that because I wanted to look good to others, I confused the work God had given me to do with the fruit God wanted to bear in my life.

Looking back, I can see that because I wanted to look good to others, I confused the work God had given me to do with the fruit God wanted to bear in my life.

Pruning for Fruit

When I learned that fig trees can live to be 100, I decided to apply Jesus’ warning to the fig tree to my own life. I learned that fig trees need regular pruning in order to open up a “canopy” to allow more sunlight to reach the inner branches and develop more fruit. As my life is changing with the diminishments of age, I wonder If God is getting out his pruning shears.

I notice God’s pruning the branches of my activities and expectations when I no longer have the energy or the opportunity to do what I used to do—and when the invitations to teach classes and lead workshops come less often. I notice God pruning my way of thinking when some things I thought I would do forever no longer bear as much fruit. And  the light of God’s pruning helps me see my inner reluctance about doing things I used to love to do. God’s light also helps me pay attention when my body fights back if I try to do too much. Perhaps like the fig tree Jesus encountered, I am promising fruit that isn’t there.

Jesus said something similar about our lives. He said:

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine grower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit” (John 15:1,2 NRSV).

We are invited to grow into this reality even as we live in the reality of getting older.

The Pain of Pruning

But being pruned is not always pleasant or easy. It often means missing out on what I expect of myself or what I think others expect of me. It means being quiet when I used to be the speaker at workshops and conferences. It means not being judgmental when things aren’t done the way we used to do them. And it means not doing things that are too late at night. I still have a hard time accepting these losses. I expect more of myself than I have to give. I think I should be able to overcome fatigue as I was able to do years ago. When I see a job that needs to be done, I assume I am the one to do it. I resist and complain about my inability to support the heavy branches on my aging vine.

But being pruned is not always pleasant or easy. It often means missing out on what I expect of myself or what I think others expect of me.

I had a conversation with my spiritual director about all that I can no longer do. She heard my resistance to losing familiar ways of living. She didn’t say I should make more careful to-do lists or schedule my days better. Instead, she responded with love and asked me, “What is it, Alice, that you don’t understand about this?” The problem was that God was pruning me, and I didn’t want to embrace it.

It is often easier for me to notice the pruning and the fruits in someone else’s life than my own. When my husband retired several years ago, he left behind a lifelong career in ministry and then in the leadership of a respected publishing house. In ministry and in business other people were taking on responsibilities that used to be in Bob’s resume. That loss, as well as the physical changes of getting older, required a good bit of pruning. In his professional life Bob was a leader, a visionary, and a decision maker. Now we live in a small town in Colorado and no one is asking for that kind of help. It has been astounding to realize that as Bob’s life has changed with age, God has given him new, meaningful relationships that are bearing fruit in ways he never imagined in his younger years.

The Fruit of Pruning

Through the canopy of sunlight created by the loss of branches Bob no longer needs, the light of God is shining into his life. Now he spends hours listening with love to others who have also lost much. He listens with patience to retired business and military men, to grieving widowers, and to younger men who are moving towards the liminal space of growing older. Listening with love, patience and kindness brings Bob great joy. We never expected that. And it has not escaped our notice that what Bob is experiencing is the fruit of the Holy Spirit in his life.

In this season of life, both Bob and I are beginning to trust that imbedded in our limitations is unexpected fruitfulness. The thing about fruit is that we can’t be proud of bearing it. God is the one who prunes and produces the fruit. The fruits of the Spirit are God’s gifts to us to give to others. Unlike the achievements of our lifetime, these inner fruits are largely invisible. When we have peace in our anxious society, it is a quality that can be felt more than seen. If we are generous with our attention and time in the morning, we may have forgotten about it by the time we go to bed. Or if we resist yelling at a driver who cuts us off, no one will know we have experienced the fruit of self-control.

The fruits of the Spirit are God’s gifts to us to give to others. Unlike the achievements of our lifetime, these inner fruits are largely invisible.

It is good to remember that since spiritual fruit is often invisible, there will be some days when we can’t see it and we may wonder if we are being fruitful at all. We cannot recognize the fruit of the Spirit in us because the losses of age are shouting at us. On those days, we can remember what Jesus said to the disciples at the fig tree:

“Truly I tell you, if you have faith and do not doubt, not only will you do what has been done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, ‘Be lifted up and thrown into the sea,’ it will be done. Whatever you ask for in prayer with faith, you will receive” (Matt. 21:21, NRSV).

It is a comfort to me that I can pray about the mountains of my doubt. And I can remember that the Apostle Paul said that even as we are praying, the Holy Spirit is interceding for us “with sigh too deep for words”(Romans 8:26,27 NRSV). This is the same Spirit who keeps us fruitful in a world that will always need the particular fruits given to us as we age.