Matthew 7:17-20
So, every healthy tree bears good fruit, but the diseased tree bears bad fruit. A healthy tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a diseased tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus you will recognize them by their fruits.
Jesus is not really talking about trees, is he? But the observation is undeniable when he puts it this way. A tree with blight, canker, or blister rust is fire wood. What Jesus is really talking about is the distinction between divine righteousness and the unrighteousness in man. The former yields love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23). The latter yields nothing good.
Health or disease in a tree is like fitness or disorder in a man. It is pervasive. A tree is either completely good or entirely bad. By definition there is no neutrality. Being poorly is in point of fact bad. Being defective isn't mostly bad. It’s unequivocally bad. Being flawed is bad. Anything not good is bad.
Thus humanity is not merely tinged with sin or shows only traces of unrighteousness. There is not one righteous man on earth. Fallen humanity is so corrupt from the core that sinners can do nothing but sin. Now, to say this is taken as an outrage by those who hold a complimentary view of themselves and believe good fruit can come from a bad tree.
Can't happen.
I have some trees in my front yard. A disease called rhizosphaera has taken hold of them and the trees are doomed. The lower branches already show the death, and the upper reaches are powerless against it. Those higher limbs have nowhere to run, no defense against the infection, and no hope. No amount of trimming, spraying, or fertilizing will change the inevitable. Those trees are incapable of ever being truly beautiful or fruitful again. I don’t want to cut them down, but I will have no choice because every bad tree, like it or not, is cut down at last.
It is a great tragedy to lose a tall majestic tree, but not nearly as terrible as losing a handsome, princely man who contracts a fatal pneumonia or develops terminal cancer. But how do you know of such an infection or malignancy?
By the symptoms.
Symptoms never precede disease. Symptoms never cause illness. Symptoms only manifest the real condition. And just as one can see the signs of health — the strong limbs, the wholesome foliage, and sweet fruit of a tree, so will righteous men be known by the virtuous yields coming from their hands, muscles, and mouth.
Conversely, signs of moral depravity, more grievous than any mere bodily symptoms, attest to the unholy mess of our fallen human nature.
Men are notorious for being dismissive of symptoms in themselves. A grower may swiftly attack a single case of leaf mold he detects in his orchard but lie to himself about the pain in his own chest running down his arm. Perhaps this is why Jesus uses the circuitous language of horticulture to make us take seriously the unspiritual condition of our own works. If it is true about trees, it is true about men.
During Advent it is exceedingly wise to take to account the warning, “By their fruits you shall know them.”
Of course, Jesus is not really talking about trees, is he? And he certainly is not talking just about other guys. He’s talking about me—about my works, my words, and my motives. The reality is that even one failure condemns the entire cause.
Just one case of mad cow seals the fate of the entire herd.
Just one mention of contamination results in the recall of every bottle on the shelf.
Just one word of untruth from a witness allows a jury to discount the entire testimony.
Just one act of pedophilia fouls a man’s entire legacy no matter how famous or successful he may have been.
St. Paul wrote, “The result of one trespass was condemnation for all men.” (Romans 5:18a) And does not Scripture also says, “Whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for it all.” (James 2:10). But in our case, failure is not singular. The whole forest is lost.
Yet, in the midst of such devastation stands one tree with good fruit. How so? The wood is dry. The timber hewn. The root is gone. No green is seen, and spikes cannot cause the sap to run. Yet, like the miraculous staff in Moses’ hand, the tree buds forth flower and fruit. The fruit of that tree—the tree of the cross—is good. The consequence and effect of that tree is utterly good. By the fruit of that tree we see the quality of the whole. It may have the appearance of death—and was dead, but look more closely.
There is fruit!
And the fruit — the fruit of that tree is life for the world. The consequence of Calvary’s tree is water that flows with refreshment, grain that bursts with health-giving nourishment, and vineyards that drip with blessedness.
But we’re not really talking about a tree are we?
We are talking about the man nailed to that tree and the fruits of His living, suffering, service, and sacrifice. This is how we know Him.
By His fruits.
By the baptismal water flowing with rebirth, by the bread of the altar replete with God's forgiveness and the vintage of the chalice reviving the soul. Each bear witness to the core and character of the One whose coming has given life to us all, Jesus Christ.
Remember this glorious Advent promise, “There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch from his roots shall bear fruit.” That fruitful branch is Jesus Christ. And you, dear believers, are the good fruit from Him.