“The very first tear he made was do deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off. You know – if you’ve ever picked the scab of a sore place. It hurts like billy, oh, but it is such fun to see it coming away.” – C.S. Lewis, Voyage of the Dawn Treader

In Lewis’ tale, set in the fantastical world of Narnia, the boy Eustice has been transformed into a dragon by his greed. The change was unexpected and about as much welcome as when you burn your tongue on a hot cup of coffee or step into the shower before the water has warmed up.

After a series of events, Eustice finds himself in the presence of Aslan, the high king and true god of Narnia. In a way that only a lion can, Aslan begins to deliver the boy-dragon through a series of precise cuts with his razor-sharp claws.

The transformation is excruciating, but its effect is final. Eustice is once again a boy, delivered from the horrid reptilian body that once enveloped him.

This past weekend, I was invited to my own dragon-skin-shedding event.

My “Dragon Skin”

What was my “skin” you ask?  For me, it was a lie that I believed and became all too comfortable with feeding.

The lie?

It was the lie that I was a good Christian. If my spiritual life was a university, I was getting good grades, passing my classes, and staying in the good graces of my Professor.

The truth?

That’s the hard one to admit and, I must confess, it stings a little bit each time I think about verbalizing it.

In spite of all my religious education and theological prowess, I wasn’t doing the very thing that Jesus told me to do.

Let’s see if you can guess where I’m going. Read this, the closing words of Matthew’s gospel:

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations…”  - Matthew 28:19

Did you catch that? Are you smelling what I’m stepping in?

What Is He Looking For?

I’ve spent the majority of my life reading books, considering theological arguments, and leading/participating in detailed Bible studies. I’ve even had my share of preaching experiences!

While those things are good and there’s a place for them, there’s a problem I ran into.  Jesus never told me to hold those things as a primary focus on my life.

My Father, the faithful Gardener, is not looking for good intentions. He’s not looking for good ideas or well-worded arguments about post-mortem punishment or the open-nature of His dynamic dealings with mankind.

My Father, like any reasonable and experienced gardener, is looking for fruit.

What Is My Fruit?

Taking Jesus’ explanation of the Christian life a bit further, if He’s the Vine and I am a branch, then what’s my fruit?  That’s the real question here.

Let me ask you this… What is the fruit of an apple tree?

Apples? Really?

What’s inside of an apple?

Ah… Seeds are inside of an apple!

The fruit of an apple tree is more apple trees. The apple is just the means to deliver the seeds and provide an atmosphere were the decaying flesh of the apple can fertilize and facilitate the growth of another tree.

Driving It Home

I am a branch on the Vine. I bought into the lie that the fruit from my branch would result in a greener color or a more robust (and theologically informed) stalk.

What a selfish and inwardly focused religious experience!

What kind of gardener would put up with a branch that never bore any fruit?

In reality, the fruit from my branch isn’t for my own benefit; it’s for the expansion of the Vine. It’s for the proliferation of more plants. It’s all about reproduction!

Do you see where I’m going?

The fruit that Jesus is looking for in my life is more disciples. He wants me to be salt and light, reproducing myself again and again, season after season.

This year, I want to bear fruit. True fruit, true disciples.

I want to bear fruit that will remain: Disciples that will be sent out and, in time, produce more disciples, more apple trees, and together we’ll cover the earth in an orchard.

- Dedicated to Hakan