It seems like almost every hour of the day, something happens in our world that reminds us how far we are from the heart of God. Another act of violence. Another racist rant. Another policy rooted in fear. Another “Christian” voice defending cruelty in the name of righteousness.

We live in a moment thick with fear, hatred, xenophobia, racism and all the isms and phobias that portray a spirit not of Christ. In the middle of it all, the Apostle Paul’s words echo with piercing clarity: “By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things.” (Galatians 5:22–23, NRSV)

Paul doesn’t describe the fruit of the Spirit as doctrinal precision. He doesn’t name national dominance. He doesn’t list power, influence, or political victory. He names love.

Not just love, but a whole ecosystem of Spirit-shaped virtues that make domination impossible and idolatry obvious.

What we are witnessing in American Christianity is not simply political engagement. It is theological confusion.

Christian nationalism has hijacked large swaths of evangelical Christianity, confusing patriotism for faith, political allegiance for orthodoxy, and the agenda of political leaders for the Way of Jesus.

The recent dedication of a gold statue of the President outside Mar-a-Lago, prayed over and blessed by evangelical leaders, should haunt us. Golden statues and religious blessings have a long biblical history. None of it ends well. When power, privilege, ego, and greed rule the day, the Spirit quietly departs.

Even more troubling is how figures like Doug Wilson, the so-called “pastor” of Pete Hegseth, have been platformed by prominent evangelical institutions such as Desiring God, The Gospel Coalition, Acts 29, and Ligonier Ministries. Many even within conservative evangelical circles have distanced themselves from Wilson’s theology and rhetoric, yet the damage has been done. 

At some point, the evangelical movement needs to own their role in the elevation of the Christian nationalist movement.  When churches amplify voices that traffic in division, hierarchy, and culture-war triumphalism, we should not be surprised when congregations begin to confuse aggression with boldness and cruelty with conviction.

Jesus was clear: a tree is known by its fruit. If those hailed as “God’s chosen” consistently display arrogance instead of gentleness, rage instead of patience, cruelty instead of kindness, self-indulgence instead of self-control, then something is wrong at the root.

The fruit of the Spirit is not a suggestion; it is evidence of a life rooted and grounded in Jesus.

It is more than unsettling to watch political leaders attempt to lecture the Pope about theology and Christian faith. The pride. The ego. The audacity. When politicians, platformed by ill-guided religious leaders, assume authority over centuries of theological reflection and pastoral care, we are not witnessing strength. We are witnessing spiritual shallowness.

Much of the outrage directed at the Pope and other Christian leaders who critique the current U.S. administration reveals a deeper issue: many simply do not know Scripture. The Pope hasn’t said anything that contradicts Scripture or the theological heritage of the Church. Those critiquing the Pope demonstrate that they have accepted partisan narratives as the Gospel. They have substituted cable news theology for the Sermon on the Mount. They defend “Christian values” while neglecting Christ.

It is painful to say, but it must be said: I fear many Christians do not know the Gospel. I fear some do not know Jesus.

It is also worth naming, plainly and honestly, that many who have been platformed and even idolized by the religious right seem to reflect less the fruit of the Spirit and more what Paul warns against just a few verses earlier. In Galatians 5:19–21, Paul speaks of “enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy,” a sobering list that feels far too familiar in today’s religious and political rhetoric. When leaders consistently stir division, trade in outrage, and cling to power at all costs, we should not rush to defend them…we should discern them. The contrast Paul offers is not abstract; it is diagnostic. If the fruit is missing, or if entirely different fruit is being produced, then we must have the courage to question the root.

In a world addicted to outrage, the fruit of the Spirit is revolutionary. Love in a culture of contempt. Joy in a politics of grievance. Peace in an economy of fear. Patience in an age of instant reaction. Kindness where cruelty trends. Generosity in systems built on both scarcity and greed. Faithfulness when loyalty is transactional. Gentleness in the face of bluster. Self-control when rage is rewarded.

This is not weakness. This is resistance. The early Christians changed the world not by seizing Caesar’s throne but by embodying a different kingdom.

Fruit grows from proximity. If we want the fruit of the Spirit, we must stay close to the Spirit. Here are some ways to do that:

1. Study Scripture deeply and humbly. Not through partisan lenses. Not looking for proof texts to defend our agenda. But prayerfully, contextually, and in community. So many have embraced non-biblical narratives because they have not wrestled with the actual text. Read the Gospels slowly. Sit with the Sermon on the Mount. Let Jesus shape us.

2. Practice self-examination. Before critiquing the religious or political leaders, ask: Is love evident in me? Is gentleness? Is self-control? The fruit begins at home.

3. Commit to diverse Christian community. The Spirit often speaks through voices outside our echo chambers. Listen to believers from different cultures, traditions, and experiences.

4. Fast from outrage. Limit the media that feeds anger and fear. Replace it with prayer, silence, and acts of mercy. 

5. Embody love. Welcome the stranger. Defend the vulnerable. Refuse racist jokes. Speak truth to power. Love is not intended to be abstract. It is to be practiced.

There is something disturbing happening in our world almost every moment of the day. But that disturbance is also a summons. A summons to return to Jesus. A summons to reject idolatry. A summons to disentangle faith from nationalism. A summons to bear fruit.

The world does not need louder Christians. It needs Christians who look like Christ.

The Spirit is still producing fruit. The question is whether we will allow our lives to become the orchard.