The Fruit of Remaining

I

n our chosen gospel (John 15:1-8) to celebrate the feast of All Saints and Blessed of the Society of Jesus, there are two words that are often repeated. First, the eight repetitions of "remain" make it the most prominent word in the Gospel passage. Jesus invites us, "Remain in me, as I remain in you." The Christian life begins not with doing something for God, but with being in communion with him, who already remains in us. St Thomas Aquinas calls this a habitus—often translated as "habit," "disposition" or "virtue." Just as the branches of the vine have the disposition to bear fruit, so do we when we remain in Christ.

Jesus gives us reassuring words: "Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit." I find this especially comforting for retreatants struggling in their prayers. Just remain, and you will bear fruit.

There is only one important condition: Remain attached to the vine. Jesus cannot emphasize this enough. What happens when the branches become detached? He gives us the answer: "Anyone who does not remain in me will be thrown out like a branch and wither."

Second, the six repetitions of the word "fruit" reveal that fruitfulness is not something we manufacture through our own efforts. Otherwise, we are speaking merely of productivity. But fruitfulness is much deeper than producing results. Results are good and rewarding, but the danger begins when rewards become our main motivation.

There will be many times when our expectations are not met. Yet, it is precisely during these moments that the vine may begin to bear fruit in us. Think of the apostles who spent the whole night fishing but caught nothing. Imagine their frustration. They were tired, sleepy, and disappointed. They had worked so hard, but their nets remained empty. Yet, through that frustrating night, they learned an important lesson: Sometimes we learn more from our failures than from our successes.

What are the fruits of such experiences? Perhaps we become more patient, open-minded, trusting, or considerate of others. These are fruits we may not immediately notice.

I often tell my retreatants that there is a big difference between what happens in prayer and what changes in the pray-er, the person who is praying. Sometimes, a retreatant tells me, "Father, nothing happened in my prayer." But as I listen, I notice that something has changed in the person. Virtues have quietly begun to grow in the heart. Nothing much may have happened in prayer, but something important has happened to the one praying.

That is why, when you feel nothing is happening, stay, remain, do not walk out. When prayer feels like a failure, remember that this is only half the story. The other half is you, the person praying. It is you whom God loves and seeks out first. The beautiful insights he may reveal come only second.

St Ignatius of Loyola recommends the Preparatory Prayer at the start of each formal prayer period. It is not about asking God for beautiful insights. He writes: "I will beg God our Lord [O My God, I pray] for the grace that all my intentions, actions, and operations may be directed purely to the praise and service of His Divine Majesty" (SE 46).

Let us paraphrase, as though talking to a friend: "Lord, I'm here. I don't know what I'm doing half the time. I might get bored, get distracted, or doze off. But I'm showing up for you. That's what matters to me. Do whatever you want with it."

The greatest fruit comes from our relationship with Christ. We do not remain in Christ simply to produce fruit. We are already the apple of God's eye because he remains in us. He loved us first.

Finally, what do "remain" and "fruit" have in common? Where does Jesus ask us to remain, and what is the fruit that lasts? The answer is love. The saints are our exemplars of what it means to remain in love. Jesus invites us to remain in his love, and the fruit of that relationship is also love. The more we remain in his love, the more we learn to love as he loves. The greatest fruit is not simply becoming better at doing things, but becoming better at loving.Let us end with an exerpt from a sermon by Saint Bernard of Clairvaux, abbot.

Love is sufficient of itself; it gives pleasure by itself and because of itself. It is its own merit, its own reward. Love looks for no cause outside itself, no effect beyond itself. Its profit lies in its practice. I love because I love, I love that I may love. Love is a great thing so long as it continually returns to its fountainhead, flows back to its source, always drawing from there the water which constantly replenishes it.

For when God loves, all he desires is to be loved in return; the sole purpose of his love is to be loved, in the knowledge that those who love him are made happy by their love of him.

All Saints and Blessed of the Society of Jesus, pray for us. Amen. Fr JM Manzano SJ