Ripe Fruit

“What misery is mine! I am like one who gathers summer fruit at the gleaning of the vineyard; there is no cluster of grapes to eat: my soul desired the first ripe fruit." Micah 7:1

The nation of Israel had fallen into so sad and backsliding a condition, that it was not like a vine covered with fruit, but like a vineyard after the whole vintage has been gathered, so that there was not to be found a single cluster. Not one righteous man could be found, not one to be trusted or found faithful to God. The whole state had become like a field that has been closely reaped, in which nothing remains but the stubble; like a vineyard that has been completely stripped, in which there remains no vestige of fruit. The prophet, speaking in the name of Israel, desired the first ripe fruits, but there were none to be had. The lesson of the text, as it stands, would be that good men are the best fruit of a nation, they make it worth while that the nation should exist, they are the salt which preserves it, they are the fruit which adorns it and blesses it.

Pray then for our country, that God will continually raise up a righteous seed, a faithful band, who, for his name’s sake, shall be a sweet savor unto God, for whose sake he may bless the whole land. But I mean to apply our text in another connection, and use it as the heading of a discourse upon ripeness in grace. I think we can all use the words of Micah in another sense, and say, “My soul desired the first ripe fruit.” We would not be merely the green blade; we desire to be the full corn in the ear. We would not merely show forth the blossoms of repentance and the young buds of struggling faith; but we would go on to maturity, and bring forth fruit unto perfection, to the honor and praise of Jesus Christ. This morning, then, I speak about ripeness in grace, maturity in the divine life, fruit ready to be gathered. Our first point shall be the marks of this ripeness; the second, the causes that work together to create this ripeness; the third, the desirability of the ripeness; the fourth, the solemnity of the whole subject.

I. First, then, let us speak upon THE MARKS OF RIPENESS IN GRACE.

1. Let us begin with the mark of beauty. There is a great beauty in a fruit tree when it is in bloom. Perhaps there is no more lovely object in all nature than the apple blossom; but this beauty soon fades — one shower of rain, one descent of hail, one puff of the north wind, and very soon the blossoms fall like snow; and if they remain their full time, speedily indeed in any case, they must withdraw from view. Much loveliness adorns youthful piety. The love of his espousals, his first love, his first zeal, all make the newborn believer lovely. Can anything be more delightful than our first graces? Even God himself delights in the beauty of the blossoming believer. “I remember you,” says he, “the love of your espousals, when you went after me in the wilderness.”

Autumn has a more sober aspect, but still it rivals the glory of spring. Ripe fruit has its own peculiar beauty. As the fruit ripens, the sun tints it with surpassing loveliness, and the colors deepen until the beauty of the fruit is equal to the beauty of the blossom, and in some respects is superior. What a delicacy of bloom there is upon the grape, the peach, the plum, when they have attained perfection! Nature far excels are, and all the attempts of the modeler in wax cannot reach the marvellous blending’s of color, the matchless tints of the ripe fruit, worthy of Eden before the fall. It is another sort of beauty altogether from that of the blossom, yielding to the eye of the husbandman, who has the care of the garden, a more ravishing sight by far. The perfumed bloom yields in value to the golden apple, even as promise is surpassed by fulfillment. The blossom is painted by the pencil of hope; but the fruit is dyed in the hue of enjoyment.

There is in ripe Christians the beauty of realized sanctification, which the word of God knows by the name of “the beauty of holiness.” This consecration to God, this setting apart for his service, this watchful avoidance of evil, this careful walking in integrity, this dwelling near to God, this being made like unto Christ — in a word, this beauty of holiness is one of the surest emblems of maturity in grace.

You have no ripe fruit if you are not holy– if still your passions are unsubdued, if still you are carried about by every wind of temptation. If still, “Lo here, and lo there,” will attract you to the right hand and to the left, you have not reached to anything like maturity; perhaps you are not even fruit unto God at all. But where holiness is perfected in the fear of God, and the Christian is at least striving after perfect holiness, and aiming to be conformed to the image of Christ, one of the marks of the ripe fruit is plainly present.

2. Another mark is never absent in a mature believer namely, the weight which is evidenced in humility. Look at the corn in the field, it holds its head erect while it is green, but when the ear is filled and matured, it hangs its head in graceful humbleness. Look at your fruit trees, how their blossoming branches shoot up towards the sky, but when they begin to be loaded with fruit, since the riper the fruit the greater its weight, the branch begins to bow, until it needs oftentimes to be propped up and to be supported, lest it break away from the stem.

Weight comes with maturity, lowliness of mind is the inevitable consequence. Growing Christians think themselves nothing, full-grown Christians know that they are less than nothing. The nearer we are to heaven in point of sanctification, the more we mourn our infirmities, and the humbler is our estimate of ourselves. Lightly laden vessels float high in the water, heavy cargo sinks the barque deeper. The more grace, the more the need of grace is felt. He may boast of his grace who has none, he may talk much of his grace who has little, but he who is rich in grace cries out for more, and forgets that which is behind.

When a man’s inward life flows like a river, he thinks only of the source, and cries before his God, “All my fresh springs are in you.” He who abounds in holiness feels more than ever that in him, that is in his flesh, there dwells no good thing. You are not ripened, my brother, while you have a high esteem of yourself. He who boasts in himself is but a babe in Christ, if indeed he be in Christ at all. When you shall see death written on the creature, and see all your life in Christ; when you shall perceive even your holy things to have iniquity in them, and see all your perfectness in him who is altogether lovely; when you shall lie prostrate at the foot of the throne, and only rise to sit and reign in him who is your all, then are you ripening, but not until then.

3. Another mark of ripeness which every one perceives in fruit, and by which indeed the maturity of many fruits is tested, is tenderness. The young green fruit is hard and stone-like; but the ripe fruit is soft, yields to pressure, can almost be molded, and retains the mark of the finger. So is it with the mature Christian, he is noted for tenderness of spirit. Beloved, I think if I must miss any good thing, I would give up many of the graces if I might possess much tenderness of spirit.

I am persuaded that many Christians violate the tenderness of their consciences, and therein lose much of true excellence. Do you not remember, my brother, when you used to be afraid to put one foot before another for do not fear should tread in the wrong place? — I wish we always felt in that same manner. You recollect when you were afraid to open your mouth lest perhaps you should say something that would grieve the Spirit! — I wish we were always so self-effacing. “Open my lips” — I am afraid to open them myself — “Open my lips, and my mouth shall show forth your praise.”

An extreme tenderness concerning sin should be cultivated by us all. When the believer can listen to a song with a lascivious tone, and does not feel himself indignant, let him be indignant with himself. When he can come across sin and feel that it does not shock him as once it did, let him be shocked to think that his conscience is being so seared. I would give you for a prayer that verse from Wesley’s hymn—

“Quick as the lid of an eye,

O God, my conscience make,

Awake my heart, when sin is nigh.

And keep it still awake.”

The sensitive plant, as soon as it is touched, begins to fold up its leaves; touch it again, and the little branchlets droop, until at last it stands like the bare poles of a vessel, all its sail of leaf is furled, and it seems as if it would, if it could, shrink into nothing to avoid your hand. So should you be, so should I be, tender to the touch of sin, so as to say with the psalmist, “Horror has taken hold upon me because of the wicked that forsake your law.” Such tenderness is a prominent mark of ripeness, and it should be exhibited, not only in relation to sin, but in other ways.

We should manifest tenderness towards the gospel — glad to bear it, thankful even for a little of it; glad to eat the crumbs from the Master’s table. Tenderness towards Christ, so that the heart does leap at the sound of his name, tenderness towards the motions of the Spirit, so as to be guided by his eye. The Spirit often, I doubt not, comes to us and we do not perceive him, because we are heavy of hearing, we are dull of understanding. The photographer may place his plate in the camera, and the object to be taken may be long before it, and well focused, too, and yet no impression may be produced; but when the plate is made sensitive, thoroughly sensitive, then it receives the image at once. O that your heart and mine might be sensitive to receive the impression of the Holy Spirit, so that on us there shall be printed at once the mind and will of God.

Dear friend, bear this in your memory, and do not forget that it shall be a token of your ripeness when the hardness is departing, when the heart of stone is being supplanted by the heart of flesh, and when the soul yields promptly to the presence of Christ, and the touch of his spirit.

4. Another mark of ripeness is sweetness, as well as tenderness. The unripe fruit is sour, and perhaps it ought to be, or else we would eat all the fruits while they were yet green. If pears and apples had the same flavor when they are but small, as afterwards when they are ripe, I am sure where there are children, very few of them would come to their full development.

It may therefore be, in the order of grace, a fit thing that in the youthful Christian some sharpness should be found which will ultimately be removed. There are certain graces which are more martial and warlike than others, and have their necessary uses — these we may expect to see more in the young men than in the fathers; and they will be toned down by experience. As we grow in grace, we are sure to grow in charity, sympathy, and love. We shall have greater and more intense affection for the person of “Him whom having not seen we love.” We shall have greater delight in the precious things of his gospel– the doctrine which perhaps we did not understand at first, will become marrow and fatness to us as we advance in grace. We shall feel that there is honey dropping from the honey-comb in the deeper truths of our religion.

We shall, as we ripen in grace, have greater sweetness towards our fellow Christians. Bitter-spirited Christians may know a great deal, but they are immature. Those who are quick to censure may be very acute in judgment, but they are as yet very immature in heart. He who grows in grace remembers that he is but dust, and he therefore does not expect his fellow Christians to be anything more; he overlooks ten thousand of their faults, because he knows his God overlooks twenty thousand in his own case. He does not expect perfection in the creature, and, therefore, he is not disappointed when he does not find it. As he has sometimes to say of himself, “This is my infirmity,” so he often says of his brethren, “This is their infirmity;” and he does not judge them as he once did.

I know we who are young beginners in grace think ourselves qualified to reform the whole Christian church. We drag her before us, and condemn her straightway. But when our virtues become more mature, we shall not be more tolerant of evil, but we shall be more tolerant of infirmity, more hopeful for the people of God, and certainly less arrogant in our criticisms.

Sweetness towards sinners is another sign of ripeness; when the Christian loves the souls of men; when he feels that there is nothing in the world which he cares for so much as endeavoring to bring others to a knowledge of the saving truth; when he can lay himself out for sinners, bear with their ill-manners, bear with anything, so that he might but lead them to the Savior — then is the man mature in grace. God grant this sweetness to us all.

A holy calm; cheerfulness, patience; a walk with God; fellowship with Jesus; an anointing from the Holy One — I put all these together, and I call them sweetness, heavenly lusciousness, full-flavouredness of Christ. May this be in you and abound. I hope I shall not weary you with these marks and signs, I shall not, if you can find them in yourselves.

5. Fulness is the mark of ripeness, seen when the fruit is plumped out and arrived at its fair and full proportions. The man in Christ Jesus has a fullness of grace. As he advances in the divine life, all the graces which were in him at his new birth are strengthened and revealed. I suppose that in the newly formed ear of wheat all the kernels are present, but they are not yet manifested. As the ear advances to maturity these grains begin to solidify and become more full. So also with the believer– there is repentance in him, but not such repentance as he will have as he sees more the love of Christ in pardoning his sin. There is faith in him certainly, but not such faith as he shall have when afterwards he shall boldly declare, “I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed to him.” There is joy in him at the very first, but not the joy which he will possess when he will rejoice in the Lord always, and yet again rejoice.

Experience deepens that which was there before. Young Christians have the first draughts, the outline of the image of Christ, but as they grow in grace there comes the filling up, the coloring, the laying on of the deeper tints, the bringing out of the whole picture. This it is to grow mature when we know whom we have believed by acquaintance with him, when we know sin by having struggled with it, when we know the faithfulness of God by having proved it, when we know the preciousness of the promise by having received it, and having it fulfilled in our own souls — this it is to be a ripe Christian, to be full of grace and truth like our Master.

6. Only one other mark of ripeness, and a very sure one, is a loose hold of earth. Ripe fruit soon parts from the bough. You shake the tree and the ripest apples fall. If you wish to eat fresh fruit you put out your hand to pluck it, and if it comes off with great difficulty you feel you had better leave it alone a little longer. But when it drops into your hand, quite ready to be withdrawn from the branch, you know it to be in good condition. When like Paul we can say, “I am ready to depart,” when we set loose by all earthly things, oh, then it is that we are ripe for heaven. You should measure your state of heart by your adhesiveness, or your resignation, in reference to the things of this world. You have some comforts here, some of you have money, and you look upon them, and you feel “it were hard to part with these” — this is green fruit. When your grace is mature, you will feel that though God should give you even greater abundance of this world, you are still an exile longing for the better land. “Whom have I in heaven but you? There is none upon earth that I desire beside you.” This is the mature believer’s question. His song often is —

“My heart is with him on his throne,
And ill can brook delay;
Each moment listening for the voice,
Rise up and come away.”

It is a sure token of ripeness when you are standing on tiptoe, with your wings outspread, ready for flight; when no chain any longer binds you further to earth; when your love to things below is subordinate to your longing for the joys above. Oh! it is sweet to sing with Dr. Watts–

“Father, I long, I faint to see
The place of your abode;
I’d leave these earthly courts,
and flee up to your seat, my God.”

When we get to this in our very hearts, we are getting ripe, and we shall soon be gathered. The Master will not let his ripe fruit hang for a long time on the tree. Thus I have given you the marks of ripeness.

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