The Fruits of Battle

“ But that on the good ground are they, which in an honest and good heart, having heard the word, keep it, and bring forth fruit with patience. ”

“If I must needs glory, I will glory of the things which concern mine infirmities.”

A sower bends over to sprinkle a handful of seeds over the soft, prepared earth. What could be a more peaceful scene? The seeds float down, are lofted on the breeze, twist and turn in the air, and fall helplessly until each one has found a landing place. Some land on the cart path, some on rocky shallow dirt, some among the weeds, and still some seeds land in the deep tilled fertile earth. What happens to the seeds depends on where they landed. Thus, some seeds are fruitful and bear a great harvest, while the others are lost. Nature has selected some for life, others for death. It's just the way it goes.

Or is it? Did you see a war there? Did you notice armies, battalions of opposing parties, a great conflict, that epic contest that pits heroes against their foes and the greatest may fall in hand to hand combat? Seeds ? A war? Oh yes. Jesus' simple bucolic words portray in quiet simplicity the war we are all part of, either as combatants, or as prisoners of war.

Look again, more closely at what happens to these seeds. The lightest ones seem to pick up on the wind and float awhile. They depart the large square of plowed earth to the wayside, hard pan, the cart path that the farmer uses to get out to his field. This earth isn't for planting, but for heavy footfalls. No seeds can find a way into it. It rejects the attempts of the seeds to get in. Like tiny paratroopers fallen behind enemy lines, exposed in the daylight and unable to establish a new battle line, these seeds are systematically taken out. Birds swoop down and eat them. They will never grow at all. The next seeds also miscarry, but not so far off the drop zone. They penetrate the plowed earth, but the rocks underneath limit their roots, causing them to dry out and die in the heat one day. Their roots have failed to achieve the cool depths of dampness that would sustain them. They too become casualties. No better is the fate of the seeds among the weeds, that have found depth and water, but competition for air and sun, as well as nutrient, and are finally choked out.

See the battle now? These seeds were fighting to survive, to be planted and live, bring fruits, fulfill their mission. But they were thwarted. And remember, it was not the fault of the seeds, which were the Word of God, but the fault of the ground they fell on. The battle is for the souls of men.

Now, hear St. Paul tell of the same battle in other rich images . “I have done more work, I have been in prison more, I have been flogged more severely, many times exposed to death. Five times I have been given the thirty-nine lashes by the Jews; three times I have been beaten with sticks; once I was stoned; three times I have been shipwrecked, and once I have been in the open sea for a night and a day; continually traveling, I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from brigands, in danger from my own people and in danger from the gentiles, in danger in the towns and in danger in the open country, in danger at sea and in danger from people masquerading as brothers; I have worked with unsparing energy, for many nights without sleep; I have been hungry and thirsty, and often altogether without food or drink; I have been cold and lacked clothing. And, besides all the external things, there is, day in day out, the pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches. If anyone weakens, I am weakened as well; and when anyone is made to fall, I burn in agony myself. If I have to boast, I will boast of all the ways in which I am weak.” 2 Cor. 11:23-30

When St. Paul is asked if he has done anything worthy of the kingdom of God, if he knows what he is talking about, if there is any fruit in his life, if he amounts to anything. He just rolls up his sleeves, turns down his collar and starts showing off his scars. Do you want to argue with Paul? Do you doubt that he means what he says? Do you think he hasn't been there, done that, considered giving up and concluding that there is no other way? Paul shows you his scars, the fruits of his battles, and you stop questioning him. He's paid his dues. Others might show you mighty buildings they've erected, play you songs they wrote, give you a copy of their newest book, show you a video where they appeared on Oprah, or a photo of them standing with Mother Theresa, name their famous friends, or speak in tongues for you. Quote a little scripture. But Paul just shows you that, in the heat of battle, he was there. He speaks as a fool. And we know, he's earned the right to tell us who the Lord is.

I just got back from Washington, D.C., a place where America rolls up its sleeves, turns down its collar and shows you the scars. The words of Lincoln's 2 nd Inaugural Address to a nation at war, the deep cleft of the Vietnam War Memorial, the Holocaust Museum, and this time I saw for the first time the newest offering: the World War II Memorial. It took 60 years to have them talk about it. They came back from Europe and the South Seas ready to raise families and work, but not talk about what they did out there. It was too fresh, too painful. They didn't brag. They couldn't describe it. No further honors were needed at the time. But in time, as memorials for Korea, Vietnam and other world changing events rose, it was high time to erect a fitting memorial of the war of our fathers, before the last of our fathers were no longer here to honor by it.

At the ends of the football field sized oval are two heroic towers signifying the Atlantic and the Pacific fields of war. On the semi-circle of each theatre are inscribed the major arenas and turning point fields of conflict. In the Atlantic: North Africa, Sicily, Normandy, the Ruhr Valley, onward to Berlin; in the Pacific: Pearl Harbor, Batan, Peliliu, Philippeans, Okinawa, Iwo Jima and Japan. Along its back wall, facing the reflecting pool and the Lincoln Memorial is a broad field of gold stars, 4,000 of them, like a too-large upper left field of our flag. Each star represents 100 fallen American servicemen: 400,000 in all. The nation rolls up its sleeves and shows the world why it should believe us. We didn't fight that war here, on our shores, for ourselves. We fought to save the world, for every other nation, and laid our dead in distant shores for their freedom.

The fruits of battle may not be pretty at close inspection. That may be why we waited so long for this memorial. Now the memory is only beautiful, and fitting, and the sting of suffering made distant by time. Only glory remains, and the glory of this land is that freedom isn't free and someone had to die to get it for the rest of us. We rightly honor the dead, and the living, for making that sacrifice. They show us the scars and remain silent, but they remember.

Is life a battle then? It is. Bloody battles may be few and can be the least painful and difficult to enter into, to endure. A mother rises once again earlier than her body wants to relieve a child's cry of loneliness, to begin her loved one's day. A young man reaches over to turn off the alarm clock as he rises in the dark to dress and go off to work, bringing his family home a check. Kids assemble for the first class of the day, striving to seem calm as their nerves clamor out of confinement and apprehension of being unprepared for school. An old woman's wrinkled hand fishes out her knitting as she sits, to produce that shawl for a loved one that needs the encouragement. An old soldier stands erect at the passing of the colors at a 4 th of July gathering. Middle-aged grandparents watch the world change as they sit between the generations, binding them together with their support going out in both directions, with prayers for them all as they most quietly bear the greatest burdens.

Every day is a battle, the fruits perhaps hard to see. It just looks like seeds. It just seemed to be about farming. But even a farm, our agricultural brethren would tell us, is a war zone. Bugs, birds, heat, cold, wind, rain, sun, weeds, rising costs, dropping markets, labor issues: who said it was easy? And if it isn't easy, you have got to watch for the fruits of the battle, for they are there, though you may have never thought of them as such. Your greatest enemy is invisible. You may have counted his voice and his accusations against you to be your own inner world, your account of your life. Not so. You are the child of the great king. Your world has been given to you as a trophy of His, won at great cost to Him, your freedom won by His life, and today you have the battle, you face the foe, the seeds fall into your field and it's your war. Don't listen to those voices that call you defeated, weak, disarmed, misled. Don't dwell on your failures of the past. The fact you are here says it all: you are worthy and the potential of your battle threatens somebody. That's good: be threatening. I've been called intimidating. I hope only to intimidate the enemies of God. If so—then I'm so happy to be intimidating!

Moses stripped his sleeves and showed a new generation his scars. He was not to cross Jordan with them, but to go up one last mountain and die. But he commissioned Joshua to lead them, and he said: “ I commanded Joshua, saying, 'Your eyes have seen all that the Lord your God has done to these two kings; so the Lord shall do to all the kingdoms into which you are about to cross. Do not fear them, for the Lord your God is the one fighting for you.'” Deut. 3:21-22 The son of Zechariah the prophet said by the Spirit of God: “Listen, all Judah and the inhabitants of Jerusalem and King Jehoshaphat: thus says the Lord to you, 'Do not fear or be dismayed because of this great multitude, for the battle is not yours but God's.” 2 Chron. 20:15

Walter Lord wrote this of the Battle of Midway, June 4-7, 1942, words now inscribed on the walls of our WWII Memorial: “They had to right to win. Yet they did, and in doing so they changed the course of a war…even against the greatest of odds, there is something in the human spirit—a magic blend of skill, faith and valor—that can lift men from certain defeat to incredible victory.” And General Douglas MacArthur wrote at the war's end: “Today the guns are silent. A great tragedy has ended. A great victory has been won. The skies no longer rain death—the seas bear only commerce—men everywhere walk upright in the sunlight. The entire world is quietly at peace.”

Would that peace could endure, but as we are ever at war in the spirit, we are all soldiers of God. May He bring you His victory each and every day, and the sweetest fruits of the battle be yours.

O LORD God, who seest that we put not our trust in any thing that we do; Mercifully grant that by thy power we may be defended against all adversity; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

PFH+